#forgot how to draw m!demon's hair again

[rubynymphyy]

returns to my roots for 5 seconds. demon...

moving past everything you've lost? absolutely not babe you're stuck in here [trauma land] forever

[10millionyearsdungeon]

Acts of Contrition

A/N: Heeeey, it’s been a while. Like...a long time while. Shaking the rust off, this is for @chiwhorei​ and their Heavenly Bodies collab (*see here*). No beta, we die like everyone else. Per the theme, and as a send off to my fellow fallen saint and recovering Catholic, it’s a kind of riff on a prayer? Not my best Shindou, but it’s Shindou all the same. Really need to revisit this guy. ANYWAYS--

TW: Sacrilegious themes, Oral (giving/receiving), Dacryphilia, Spit, Corruption, implied monster fucking (because why not?), mild exhibitionism, squirting, mild cockwarming ================================================

Your whole life, you always tried so hard to be everything your parish priest and father wanted you to be; pious, virtuous, radiant-- the epitome of the girl-next-door with a rosary tucked between your breasts and a prayer on your lips. It was your wholesome, squeaky-clean image that initially drew his attention and had you malingering on your knees with your mouth gaping and drooling into the carpet bristles of your parish confession booth.

"Got something to confess, sweetheart?" Shindou grinned in the darkness as you gazed up at him from your knees, nose pressed into the curling pubic hair tickling your mouth as he twitched down your throat. He held you there until your eyes began to roll back and tears threatened to break free from your waterline in trails of smudged ink down your flushing cheeks. You could taste his disappointment when they didn't fall, and he curled his thick fingers into your hair to rip you from his length. Incense and shame burned down your throat and into your lungs as you gasped for reprieve. His smirk was a gleaming scythe, all but signaling the beginning of your end.

"Please, more," you begged, scrambling to clutch his parted knees and nudge his cock closer to your waiting mouth. "More." His hum vibrated the dust lingering in the cramped space, as if he needed time to carefully consider what was originally his idea. "Shindou, yo--"

Gagged by his fingers, your tongue laved over his thick digits and your voice rose into unintelligible moaning. Your saliva ran down his wrist and your chin in thin rivers to the carpet digging into your knees. "Ah, ah. I asked for your confession, not for your begging. Perhaps I need to keep this pretty mouth busy while you take your penance." Eager to please, you nodded furiously into his hand, gagging and spluttering over his fingers as he twisted your body in half. The humble pleated skirt draped over your ass like a dainty envelope, the flash of white cotton panties plastered with slick against your pussy an invitation he couldn't deny-- he tore away the flimsy fabric with his teeth and whistled low at the silvery strings of slick still binding you to your underwear. You always forgot how strong Shindou was when he had a goal set before him.

"Mm, let's begin," he purred into your cunt, the sudden lash of his tongue against your neglected clit nearly tipping you into exaltation.

"H-hewl mwwwree fughlo gwssss," you babbled over his fingers as they dug almost painfully into your tongue. Cheek pressed hard into his knee, you heaved into his skin as your eyes rolled back into your skull with another skillful swipe of his tongue teasing your spasming whole. "Haaorrtsswiffee."

"C'mon, sweetness, you can do better than that. Really enunciate. It doesn't count if He can't understand you." Your toes curled in your knee socks as another wave of ecstacy washed over you with a flick of his sinner's tongue against your swelling clit. With a bend of his wrist, he tickled down your throat and dug his teeth into the swell of your ass when you gagged around them. "So tight. Do better. You know you want to. You asked for this, sweetheart." He retracted his fingers from your panting mouth, tracing the slick, bruised skin of your lips before he gave your hair a gentle pet.

"H-hail Mary, full of grace. The Lord is with thee…" you began again trembling over every word earning another vicious bite to your inner thigh. Shindou moaned into your scent tracing his tongue over the darkening bruise.

"Y'know, I'm feeling like a Hail Mary isn’t good enough. Let's try again," Shindou hoisted you into his lap, chest pressed firmly into your back as he lined the head of his cock, glistening with dewy precum, with the touch-starved maw of your cunt aching to stretch around him. Ever the tease, he tapped at your entrance, grinning at the sticky slapping of flesh on flesh as you squirmed to better accommodate him in the booth.

"Oh, my God!" You nearly screamed, sheathing him within you in one turbulent bounce. He barked out a laugh, dark eyes glittering in the shadows as he lifted your hips again with his teeth on your neck. "I-i-i'm heart-heartily so-sorry for haaah-ving offend..fuck, offended thee…" His pace was an idle one, but the vicious gnashing of his teeth burying into your neck made the aching around his cock pale in comparison. He needed you shamed, broken and sobbing out for release before he'd taste satisfaction.

"And I de-detest all my sins moh-ost s-sincerely because they d-disp-please thee." Pried open for him to abuse, Shindou let his hands wander beneath the carefully starched collared shirt and loosened tie to tease your pert, overly sensitive nipples through the fabric of your simple bra. He searched your face as he thrust up into you, knowing it wouldn't be long before those tears would begin to fall. "My God!" you gasped.

"Keep going," he groaned, tugging your blouse open and shoving your bra out of the way. He devoured the full-body shudder of your exposure, dragging his tongue up along your ear with a sigh. "You're so gorgeous when you break," he whispered, earning a hiccuping whine and the bubble of sobs he had waited so patiently for. Gyrating onto his cock, you couldn't stop the tears staining your cheeks with mascara as he rutted into you. Glancing down at where your bodies fused into one, you whimpered out the next verse as your cream dribbled down his balls.

"M-my God, who art so-oh deserving of all my love…"

"All your love, princess?"

"Ah-ah-ah!" He busied his free hand between your spread legs, rubbing tight circles on your clit. With a jump, you keened back into him and sobbed out wordlessly. Shindou ran his tongue to capture a stray tear from your hairline and moaned into the taste as he redoubled his efforts. "All my love f-for thy infinite good-fuck-goodness and--"

"And what? C'mon, finish like a good girl." Every thrust into your clenching heat had your body tensing like piano wire tuned by a master. His pulse vibrated through your core, loosening your tongue as he continued to tease and tug at your darkening nipples. “Most ah-amiable perfections…” He smirked into your hair, breath condensing on your neck like incense cloaking you in his scent. “I firmly pu-purpose by Thy Holy Grace never more--” Eyes rolling back, you stuttered and bucked fitfully back into the hardened planes of his lap. Your voice rose, cutting through the confessional booth and earning a satisfied grunt from the two-faced demon splaying your cunt wide for the congregation to observe if anyone dare open the door. “Never more,” you cried. Shindou paused, content to flex his length into your warmth while you sobbed out another broken, “Never more.” He dug his nails into your breasts, roughing your tender flesh to coax another wave of shuddering sobs and glistening tears from your weeping eyes. He sighed into your skin, dragging his lips along the moistened trails of shame and relief running down your jaw and cheek. “Please,” you whispered, rocking your hips fruitlessly to your own end. He hushed you as if silencing a toddler and stilled your hips with a single stroke. “Ah ah ah. Good girls finish their prayers.” With the head of his cock just kissing the gummy ring of your cervix, you grinded against him and cried out again, much to his annoyance. “Figures. Couldn’t be a good, pious little shit. Had to be a filthy, needy, broken little whore like the others.” “I’m broken. More, please give me more!” He scoffed at your pleading, content to have you writhe and wring yourself out on his heavy cock. Breasts bouncing and the unmistakable sounds of flesh penetrating flesh to defile that most sacred space, the sights and sounds of you coming undone for him proved all too tempting to ignore. He could taste it on you-- the rhythmic spasming of your cunt around his cock, the wobble in your legs, the uneven cadence of your breathing when he finally fucked back into your eager hole, all of it signaled your end. “Finish your prayers, sweetheart.” With two thrusts you let out a long, piercing moan, drawing the attention from those outside of the booth. Carelessly, you thrashed against him, milking his tumescence as if it would be enough to grant you divine forgiveness. “Finish like a good girl.” Shindou’s hand wandered between your trembling thighs as he rutted into you, his fingers dancing over your swollen clit despite your body bucking and fighting against him. The pressure in your belly was indescribable under his constant attention. “Finish for me.” Your body was his to play, to abuse to his delight. Shindou reveled in your shame as your squirt painted the door and carpet, shadows playing sinister tricks on your eyes as you searched the space for his face over your shoulder. “I firmly purpose by Thy Holy grace never more to offend Thee,” you whispered, coming down from your high with dripping thighs and shame staining your features. The door creaked open on its ancient hinges. Candles flickered in the chapel like whispering witnesses to a most capital crime. Tangled in the remnants of your uniform, your eyes glazed over and stared past the nuns exclaiming over your ruined state. You could feel his fingers ghosting over your exposed buds, taste his sweat and preek over your tongue. Your cunt throbbed around the memory of him, empty and hungry for his approval. His devil’s mark ached on your throat, a bruise you hazily hoped wouldn’t fade before his return. Captivated by the spectre of his presence, you melted into the tweed cushioned seat as far removed from the shouting and outrage of your audience as one could be. He’d be back for the rest of you and leave a more permanent mark. There were more pretty, pious words to pry past your lips, more tears to taste on your road to damnation, and he would be remiss  to miss out.

[littledrummeraussie]

Reader standing in front of their mirror having unhealthy/hurtful thoughts about her body and Ash comforts her?

📢  Public Service Announcement:  📢 just because the last year was shitty that doesn’t give you the right to constantly put yourselves down! You hear me? I revoke all of your ‘putting myself down’ cards, going into effect immediately! Please return them to my desk.

Throw the negative thoughts out the window and start being kind to yourselves! Because you deserve it. Because you’re good enough. ❤️

- - - - -

warnings: body image issues and self-hate

- - - - -

“Hey sweetie, you’re coming?”

“I think I’m gonna skip this one,” you mumbled, quickly pulling one of Ashton’s baggy hoodies over your head before going back to the bedroom. “I’m not feeling too well. Might be just the weather or something. But you should go and have fun.”

“Are you sure about it?” Ashton caressed your cheek, concern crossing his features. “I can stay in and take care of you.”

“No, you go and meet the guys, ‘m fine. Just gonna go to sleep and I’ll be good as new tomorrow morning.”

You knew Ashton wasn’t convinced, but he let it slide as he pressed a kiss on your lips and left with the promise of coming home latest at midnight. When he was gone you slipped back into the closet, ready to pick up the mess you’ve made. Clothes were thrown all over the floor, fabrics wrinkling and creasing, shoes kicked into the corner, shelves and drawers mostly empty after everything was pulled out of them. Your knees gave out as you dropped in the middle of it all, fingers nervously picking at the hem of Ashton’s sweatshirt.

A tube of red lipstick lay next to your knee, used up and ruined. Your teary eyes followed the words you’ve written on the mirrors, inner demons snarling at you, mocking you and your body. A body that was useless, not fitting into any of the clothes in your closet, the only pieces being able to hide it all were Ashton’s clothes, all of them a few sizes too big on you. More than anything you wanted to spend the night out with your boyfriend and your friends, but in the end you’ve lost all your courage, knowing all the other girlfriends would be so much prettier than you, skinnier, more beautiful.

“Hey Y/N, I’m back!” you suddenly heard Ashton’s voice just outside of the bedroom. “I ditched the party, told the others you might need a nurse… Y/N? Babe, wha–”

You’ve tried to scramble up and out of the closet, wanting to pretend everything was fine, but it was too late. Ashton has already found you in the middle of the mess. A sob escaped your lips, fresh tears streaming down your face and Ashton quickly dropped down next to you, pulling you into his lap.

“Hey, I’m here, I’m here,” he kissed the top of your head, cradling you against his chest. “Take a deep breath, okay? Just breathe deeply, that’s it.”

His eyes followed the words on the mirror, ‘ugly’, ‘fat’, ‘disgusting’, ‘not good enough’ scrawled all over the surface, your fingers stained red where you’ve smeared some of them.

“I don’t think you’re ugly,” he whispered against your ear as he started to comb his fingers through your hair. “You’re none of those things.”

“I’m a monster,” you hiccupped and he shook his head, kissing your temple.

“No, the monster is only trying to take over your head. Don’t let it win. I know it says otherwise, but trust me when I tell you: you are more than enough. You’re beautiful. You don’t deserve to be treated like this – not by others, and especially not by yourself.”

Ashton turned you in his lap, making you look at the mirror again. He slowly reached out, pressing his palm against the lipstick and rubbed away one of the words, then the next one and the next one.

“They are just words. They can’t hurt you,” he spoke softly as he worked, not stopping until the only things left on the mirror were ‘good enough’. “Don’t let your mind play tricks on you.”

“How can you still look at me?” you mumbled, not daring to meet his eyes.

“It’s because you’re only focusing on your outer beauty, forgetting that I fell for your inner beauty, something that is invisible to most. But not to me,” he tucked you under his chin, and you rested against his chest, trying to make sense of his words.

Ashton shuffled a bit, reaching for something that was thrown over the floor, then you saw him uncap an eyeliner and he slowly started to write words on your bare thigh where the hoodie didn’t cover you. Words of love and kindness, words of an inner beauty you forgot about: ‘friendly’, ‘caring’, ‘pure’. ‘Heart of gold’, ‘best listener’, ‘good enough’.

“All these things… they are still you, even if you can’t see them,” Ashton whispered as he added word after word, drawing a heart on your palm when he ran out of space. “Don’t let monsters fool you. You’ll always be enough for me. You are enough for me.”

[aspenflower17]

Finding You (Part 18 of ??)

Hey everyone! I 'm probably going to get the rest of this chapter out... Friday? My brain just won’t focus today and I wanted to get something out today :)

If you are new here and want to read from the beginning, here is the link for Part One. I also have links to all the parts on my Masterlist, which is pinned to the top of my page :)

Taggles: @simpingforsatan @naimena @hachimochi @wrathandgreed @magi-minminxiii @rensphilia @a-dream-at-night @chloelikesobeyme @getbehindme-satan @theuglypugling @oofthelazyweeb @mammonismyfirstman​ (If you want to be added to the tags list, please just ask to be added below or you can always DM me :) )

Satan/F!Mc

Word Count: 3,172

TW: angst

“I have just done the impossible,” Mc announced, feeling very satisfied.

“Huh?” Satan asked, blinking as he put his book down.

Mc sighed, and flopped on him dramatically, “I just went to petition for our son to stay from the evil overlord, and you couldn’t even greet me for my victorious return?”

“I’m sorry, but you’ll never guess what just happened in… Wait… He agreed to it?!”

Mc beamed up at him, holding a paper, “He just asks that you sign this to lay some ground rules down.”

“I knew he’d do something like this,” Satan huffed, folding his arms, “It’s like he doesn’t trust me.”

“Well, not to play devil’s advocate,” Mc laughed a bit at the expression, “But you did fill the house with cats last time you were allowed to have one. I can understand his… reservations on the subject.”

Satan frowned, looking away from her, “So, even you agree with him?”

“Well, obviously not about everything. Otherwise I wouldn’t be trying to make him let us keep Leo. I can sympathize with not wanting your house overrun with animals. Especially when you’ve already got so many trouble makers already in the house… Am I wrong?” she asked at his frown.

Satan sighed, “I guess not.”

“Just think of it this way. If you can prove to Lucifer you can be responsible and take care of Leo, you might be allowed to keep another cat down the road.”

“You need to stop making such good points Mc,” Satan huffed a laugh, his irritation gone.

“Hmmm… I think I need to continue to make great points actually. Okay, while you look over the contract to make sure Lucifer doesn’t have something up his sleeve, I’m going to go tell Leo the good news.”

“He was upstairs last time I checked,” Satan called over his shoulder as Mc went off in search of the cat. She took the stairs two at a time, having gotten used to climbing them since Leo came into their life. Coming to the top, her eyes scanned the area for him, “Leo! Leo, where are you?”

A small meow announced the presence of said cat, coming out of nowhere, as usual. He started twining between Mc’s legs, looking up every once in a while to meow at her. Once she stopped, Mc laughed, picking him up. He adjusted his paws until he was hugging her as usual, purring the whole time, “Oh baby boy, did you miss me? I know I missed you. But, you’ll never guess! Lucifer said you could stay. Daddy’s looking over the rules right now to make sure they’re acceptable, but after that you’ll be able to stay here! No more roaming the streets in search of your next meal, though you’ll be allowed out obviously. You just have to promise you’ll come back,” Mc started scratching between his shoulder blades, eliciting an even louder purr, “Oh, it’s been awhile since I had a cat. I forgot how soothing purring is,” then whispering conspiratorially, “You’ll be so good for Satan. Speaking of which, let's go downstairs and see him.”

Satan was frowning slightly at the document, his reading glasses having materialized out of nowhere. Mc was sure he didn’t actually need them, seeing as how he was a near immortal being, and suspected he only used them as a tool for intense studying, but she was never going to complain. He looked so good with them on. She shifted Leo to one arm, and took out her phone to snap a photo of Satan. She loved that they had a relationship where they could just snap photos of each other without the other thinking it was weird.

Satan looked up at the camera sound, and reached for his polaroid, “Say cheese.”

Mc laughed, posing with Leo. The photo soon emerged, and Satan smiled as he watched the photo start emerging, “Another one for the drawer.”

“So, what’s the verdict?” Mc asked, coming closer to stand next to Satan. Leo wiggled a bit, so she put him in Satan’s lap, where he circled a couple times before curling into a ball.

“It seems… reasonable enough at first glance. I’ll have to go over it in more detail later, but I think you did it.”

Mc grinned and threw her arms over the back of Satan’s chair, giving him a hug from behind, “I’m so glad. Not only does Leo get a home, now you have someone to keep you company while I’m back at home.”

Satan’s hands grabbed her arms, pulling them even tighter to himself, “Do you really have to go?”

“I’ll be back before you know it,” she smiled, kissing the top of his head, “I could never stay away from you for too long. Plus, I need to make sure to keep Diavolo happy. Otherwise I won’t be able to return at all.”

“I should petition him to let me go with you.”

“You have a job to do down here, Darling. Plus, I don’t want to see what would happen if you got stuck in rush hour traffic. I think you might be able to come visit me though.”

Satan sighed, kissing Mc’s hand, “Only if Lucifer allowed it.”

“Who knows? Maybe I’ll be able to convince him,” Mc smiled, moving down to kiss Satan’s cheek, his soft hair tickling her nose. 

He turned his head, eyes soft, a little smile gracing his lips, “Just don’t stay away for too long.”

“I promise,” Mc smiled, looking straight into the eyes.

~~

Mc awoke a bit abruptly, though it wasn’t unpleasant. That was until a wave of loneliness suddenly crashed down, causing her eyes to open, though they were reluctant. The soft light in the room allowed her eyes to adjust rather quickly, revealing the demon she’d been dreaming about, “Mnh, Satan?” He was standing closer to her than she would’ve expected. She extended her arm, to grab at his hand, “Is that you?”

“It is,” he answered softly, accepting her hand in his. The loneliness instantly disappeared, “Did you have a bad dream?”

Mc relaxed instantly, “Mmmm… No. It was a really nice dream actually.”

“I’m sorry you had to wake up then.”

“Mmmm, is okay. It’s nice to wake up and have you here,” she answered truthfully, sleep turning her filter off.

Satan’s eyes went wide, and his grip on her hand tightened and then went rigid, “Really?”

“Mmmhmm,” she answered, closing her eyes.

“Hey. You probably shouldn’t fall asleep again. It’s getting kind of late and you still need to get back to the castle.”

“I can’t just stay here?” Mc asked, yawning loudly, “I don’t want to go back. I like it here.”

”I’m afraid not. I don’t think Luke or Michael would like that very much.”

“... I guess you’re right,” Mc sighed, forcing herself to sit up. The blanket on her body fell down, and she frowned at it, her sleep addled brain trying to think, “Did I grab a blanket?”

“Oh, that was me. I know my room can get pretty chilly so I wanted to make sure you weren’t too cold.”

Mc blinked at the kindness, her brain clearing, “Oh my… I fell asleep. I’m so sorry! I haven’t been sleeping well lately. I promise it’s not because it was boring or anything. It was really lovely actually. I hope-”

“Hey, hey. Please don’t worry yourself Mc. I feel honored you trust me enough to fall asleep in my presence,” he smiled kindly.

Mc felt her cheeks grow warm, and looked down, “Still. It’s rude to fall asleep when spending time with someone.”

Satan chuckled and squoze her hand, “You can fall asleep around me if you’d like. You really don’t have to worry about it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course. If I’d had a problem with it I would have woken you up earlier.”

“Ah, I suppose you’re right. Thank you for understanding.”

“Of course Mc,” Satan smiled again, and Mc felt her heart jolt a bit, “We should probably get you back to the castle soon.”

“R-Right.”

~~

Mc sat at her desk, writing in the notebook usually reserved for her art ideas. She’d need to get a new one soon, but this would have to do for now. Now that she’d had time to think everything through, she was starting to piece something together. She wasn’t sure what it was, but she had the feeling it would lead to what she’d been searching for this whole time. 

Let’s see, there’s all these dreams… Though, should they even be called that? Are they prophecies? It’s not deja vu, as the situations don’t feel like they’re repeating. Just a sense of familiarity. I might even be able to write it all off as a dream if it weren’t for the fact that Satan’s room was the same as that other dream I’d had, and I’d never been there before. There’s obviously something going on and I need to figure out what it is. Mc looked down at the sheet in front of her realizing she’d been drawing the whole time she’d been thinking. She was a bit flustered when she saw it was Satan when he’d been holding her hand. She shut her notebook, that strange feeling when Satan had smiled at her earlier flitting around in her chest. She had written off the feeling as residual embarrassment combined with relief that he wasn’t upset. Now, she wasn’t so sure.

A knock at the door brought her out of her thoughts, “Mc. Are you in there?”

“Just a moment Diavolo,” Mc called out, putting her notebook under her pillow. She felt the strong need to hide what she was doing, though she couldn’t quite figure out why.

She opened the door to his wide smiling face, “I was wondering if you would like to join me in a game of chess?”

“Oh. Sure, if you want. I’m not very good at it though.”

“That’s alright. After all, how is someone supposed to get better at something if they don’t practice?”

“Very true. I just didn’t think you’d be interested in playing against someone who’s not at your level.”

“Who’s to say I’m above your level?”

“Well, generally when people own a chess set they’re above my level,” Mc smirked.

“Fair enough,” Diavolo laughed, gesturing for Mc to follow him.

~~

“So, what’s on your mind?”

“That, not only are you a gracious winner, but that you’re even more skilled at this game than I first thought. It takes skill to bring your playing down to novice level without making “mistakes”.”

Diavolo chuckled, moving another piece, “I wouldn’t say you’re a novice. You’re doing quite well.”

“I’d have to disagree with you there, but thank you anyway.”

“If I’m as skilled as you say, wouldn’t I be better qualified to assess your skill level than yourself?”

“I suppose,” Mc hummed, wondering what Diavolo was getting at.

“Satan is pretty talented when it comes to chess as well.”

Mc paused in moving her piece, “Is that so?”

“Yes. He’s probably the most tenacious player I’ve ever met. Though he’s never beat me, he’s gotten very close before.”

“Ah.”

“That attitude is what made him who he is. His desire to grow and learn is one of his defining characteristics. Though it’s probably not a fair comparison, he has grown and continues to grow the most out of all his brothers.”

“Why would you say it’s not fair?”

“Because they already had defined personalities when they Fell. Certain characteristics were obviously enhanced or repressed turning from angels to demons, but they’re essentially the same beings.

“Satan is a different story. Though he came from Lucifer and has memories of the Celestial Realm, all he really was in the beginning was wrath, the most literal embodiment of his sin I could imagine. I’ve been around a long time, and I’ve never met another being like him. He is truly unique. I watched all the brothers adjust to their sin, figuring out how they would represent their sin. They’ve all struggled in their own way, but Satan’s struggle is of a different kind. He’s had to learn how to go against everything he was to become something more.

Which brings me back to my point: It’s probably not fair to compare his growth to his brothers, but he continues to grow and learn from his mistakes, while the others seem to have… stagnated a bit.”

Mc nodded as she surveyed the gameboard, though her thoughts were more on their conversation. She had so many questions about Satan, many ones she didn’t feel she could ask him...

“So, anything else on your mind?”

“Only if you’re offering answers.”

Diavolo looked Mc straight in the eyes, “Ask away.”

Mc blinked a couple times, “Umm… Of course I can’t think of anything really pressing now.”

“What’s the first question that comes to mind?”

“Well, I guess since we were talking about it, what was his last period of intense growth?”

Diavolo cocked his head, “Interesting question. Besides right now?... Though it’s not a happy memory, probably the grieving period after she died.”

“Do you mean the girl he wrote the song for? Mammon told me a little bit about it.”

“How much did he tell you?” Diavolo asked slowly, eyes searching hers.

“I would guess the basics? He said he’d loved a human, and after she passed away, he played the song one last time and then said he’d never play it again, but then he did at the dinner party. He also mentioned he hadn’t dated anyone before or since her.”

“I suppose those are the basics,” Diavolo sighed, moving another piece on the board.

“Can… Will… You tell me about her?” Mc asked, the question feeling more important than it had when Mammon had first mentioned it.

“Hmmm… I think my hands might be tied wen it comes to that question,” Mc felt an unexpected wave of disappointment wash through her at his answer, “But, I sense there’s more to that question than what you asked.”

“I… Maybe?” Mc answered, her reaction shocking her. Even so, she couldn’t dispel the feeling.

“What made you ask the question?”

“I… It seems important,” was the only thing Mc could think to answer with.

Interesting. Well, checkmate, and with that, it’s time for me to head to bed. Goodnight Mc.”

“Oh, you’re right. Goodnight,” Mc answered, though her thoughts were far from the game that sat in front of her.”

~~

Mc sighed for what felt like the eightieth time that night. What could Diavolo have meant by all that? He was obviously hunting at something. The problem is, I’m not sure what it is. Though, why do I care about her? It seems more than me just being concerned for Satan’s well being. He’s obviously feeling better about the whole situation with her, seeing as how he played that song.

Mc replayed her memory of him playing the song in question, and found herself questioning that assessment. If he truly was feeling better, wouldn’t the longing in his voice have lessened? He had laid all his feelings bare, and the truth was, he wasn’t over her.

A stab of jealousy attacked her heart, making her blink a couple times. She went back to the memory in question, only to find the whole thing tinged in the sin. She retreated further into her head, far from the feeling. She sat up, grabbing the glass of water from her bedside table, hands shaking. As she tried to put it back down, her fingers loosened too much and she almost ended up spilling the rest of the water. Sighing the eighty-first time that night, she grabbed the book off the table, opening it and trying to drown out her feelings.

~~

“Is there something wrong with the food?” Barbatos asked, stepping forward to refill Luke’s glass with whatever tea he’d decided on serving them.

“Everything tastes great. I’m just not hungry this morning,” Mc smiled weakly, before returning to pushing the food around her plate. Attempting to make the butler feel better, she took a bite of the pride cake he’d prepared. It had actually become a favorite of hers, much to the delight of Diavolo who couldn’t seem to get enough of it. Today however, it reminded her more of glue than anything else.

“Are you feeling alright Mc??” Michael asked, “You’ve seemed… off these past couple days.”

“I just haven’t been able to sleep lately,” Mc answered, “I’ve just hit a snag in my art.”

“Maybe you should take some time off today then.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“I have the day free, and I’ve wanted to talk to you about something,” Michael tried again.

“Actually, I’m just going to head out to clear my head.”

Michael narrowed his eyes, “Well, I do need to talk to you sometime soon.”

“Sure,” Mc answered, relieved he wasn’t going to push the situation further.

~~

Mc wandered aimlessly, willing the sounds of the Devildom to drown out her thoughts, but she seemed to have opened some sort of floodgate in her thoughts. Angels were known for their extreme restraint when it comes to their own feelings. During the process of becoming an angel, there was a sort of damper that was put on their feelings. Supposedly it could be turned on or off at will like a switch. Many angels went their whole existence without turning the switch off. Mc had seen Simeon when his had been off, usually when he was writing, so she knew it existed. She also had some control over her switch, but she had a feeling hers didn’t work quite as well as other angels. She’d theorized that’s why she could create art as readily as she did, and why it seemed humans related more to her art than her fellow angels. When she was younger, she figured it would develop more once she got older. It hadn’t however. She might have had an easier time covering up how she actually felt, but the control wasn’t there.

Now however, it seemed like she had no control over it, relying on outside influences to help her from feeling like she was losing her mind. Among her newfound jealousy at center stage, she could feel her anger at Michael hiding in the eves of her mind. There was also a confusion that seemed to be seeping into everything else she did and was, lighting the whole scene. She had no idea what had changed, but she wished it would stop. She was getting a headache. No wonder humans sometimes went crazy.

“Mc? Is that you?” A familiar voice called out to her.

“Hey Mammon. What are you doing here?”

“Jus’ got outta RAD for the day. What’re you doin’ here?”

“Oh, I’m… trying to clear my head.”

“So wha’s botherin’ ya?”

“What?”

“You’re havin’ a hard time right? I can see it all written all over your face,” Mammon smiled kindly, “Come get some ice cream with me.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hehe ^_^

Part Eighteen and a Half

[sinsbymanka]

This is a submission for the @cozy-autumn-prompts​ event, brainchild of the lovely @scharoux​. Thank you for the amazing prompts! @tightassets​ and I submit the following art (belonging to her talented hands) and fic (my doing) for prompt #4: By The Fire.

Title: It’ll be a Hell of a Story Rating: M Pairing: Female Cadash/Varric Tethras, Maria Cadash/Varric Tethras Tags: Flirting, UST, Fantasizing, Pre-Relationship, Non-Inquisitor Cadash

Read on AO3

It should have been a simple problem.

Simpler than the breach swirling threateningly above them, at any rate.

They’d managed to survive the whole world going to shit, but that massive hole in the sky was still gonna be a problem they needed to solve. Sooner rather than later. And to do that, they needed people. Soldiers. Mages. Weapons.

Lyrium.

And whenever someone said ‘lyrium’, they always looked at the dwarf. Like the humans and their skirts and their wars hadn’t upset the whole damn lyrium trade. Varric debated throwing his hands up and washing them of the whole thing.

Demons. Holes in the sky. Templars. Mages. None of it was really his cup of ale.

But there had been red lyrium in the temple. And that… well, that was his problem. He’d put it out in the world. He was responsible for the spark that ignited the fire, and now he had to deal with the inferno. Besides. He could find a lyrium dealer with one hand tied behind his back, right?

He could kick himself for his optimism.

Ruffles couldn’t get the Merchant’s Guild or Orzammar to play ball, not a surprise. Too much risk to sell to this ragtag bunch on top of a mountain, not enough reward. Even Varric wouldn’t be able to pull enough strings to make it work, which meant he needed the Carta.

Of course, the one time in his life he wanted them to appear, they were nowhere to be found. Frankly, that was suspicious. There’d been Carta crawling all over Haven when he arrived, it didn’t take much to see their signs. Dwarven marks carved into cabins to mark drop points. Snow clearly brushed back to cover paths. Several short, shady dwarves in the tavern that kept to themselves while they played cards.

If he’d have known he’d need them later, he would have said hello. He’d been too worried about spinning tales to make the chantry dance to his tune and trying to ingratiate himself to both sides of this damn mess so he could get back to Kirkwall with his fine dwarven chest hair intact.

Maybe they’d all died in the aftermath of the temple exploding. He’d seen a couple Dwarven corpses, but not enough to make up a whole crew, and there’d been multiple operating in Haven. Did that mean the rest fled?

Varric scratched his stubble while he picked his way down the icy, gravel path. His eyes still roamed, trying to find any signs of seedy deals lingering in the shadows, but all he saw were scared refugees and soldiers not even old enough to grow a beard. The wind cut through them all and they scurried past without even looking down at the dwarf.

Well. Back to his fire to regroup and think of another plan before he froze into a nice chunk of rather handsome ice.

Honestly, it was hard to believe that somebody didn’t look at the chaos and see profit to be made. They didn’t make Carta as tough as they used to, apparently. Where were all the tough, savvy business people? The clever rogues able to stay one step ahead of all the competition? What about someone who could look at this mess and decide to chip in, if only because that hole in the world threatened everything?

Varric scoffed to himself and shoved his hands in his coat. Carta dwarf with a heart of gold? He’d grow a beard first.

He sighed and turned the corner, letting his eyes drift covetously to the fire not twenty paces away.

And almost stumbled to a complete stop. There was a woman sitting on his bench, next to his abandoned supplies, munching on a flaky pastry while flipping through his book.

A dwarven woman. One that looked like the right kind of shady he’d been trying to locate all damn day.

But the cunning tip of her head as she read, the blade on her thigh, the sheer audacity of her, was nothing notable. Not compared to the curves accentuated by her snug breeches and the tempting swell of her breasts tantalizingly framed by a shirt not quite as scandalous as his, but close. Her red hair was braided away from her face, but wisps of it danced in the wind, tickled her freckled nose.

She lifted her eyes from the page and locked eyes with him. Hers crackled with intelligence, energy, and absolutely wicked satisfaction.

At a glance he knew three things. First. She was Carta. Second. She’d been watching him look for her.

Lastly, and most importantly, she was the best kind of trouble. And that made her more dangerous than she even knew.

She didn’t break eye contact, didn’t even bother to drop his pilfered book. Instead, she raised her snack to her lips and took a slow bite, watching him watch her like she was a queen upon her throne and him some lowly petitioner.

And honestly, that was the right of it. Which shouldn’t make him think of getting on his knees and throwing those shapely thighs over his shoulders, but dammit he hadn’t expected to find the most gorgeous woman in the world in the middle of the Ferelden muck.

She lifted his book, tipped her head to the side, and smirked. “It’s not bad, but you’re sodding verbose, Tethras. You should probably get a better editor.”

Every thought in his mind screeched to a halt, replaced by one word.

Minx.

“Sorry my personal belongings aren’t up to snuff, Princess. I’ll leave better material out for you to peruse next time.” Thank Andraste his mouth was still working, because he’d lost control of his feet completely, dragged towards her like a victim of an unseen mage.

She snapped the book shut and tossed it easily onto the ground, ignoring his nickname to pat the bench beside her. It was a clear invitation, and he almost forgot how absurd it was to be invited to sit on his bench. Almost.

“I’ve been looking for the Carta all damn day.” He narrowed his eyes, making a show of grumbling displeasure to hide his ridiculous glee.

Her only answer was a sly smirk and to recline back on one palm. “I know. I was watching.”

“See something you like?” He gestured at himself, watching her stormy eyes drop from his face down his stocky body, lingering pointedly on his displayed chest. Then she swept a burning path back to his face.

“It’s not a terrible view.” She admitted.

He smiled at her. The most charming, brilliant smile he could summon. The same one that had many a fine dwarven barmaid tumbling over themselves to get him another glass of ale. His redheaded temptress only gave him a predatorial smirk in return.

“Should I assume you’re here for business?” He asked.

Or pleasure.

He didn’t dare say it. Not to her. There was something… something about her that made him pause, consider her carefully. Something that screamed if he gave her that power over him, he’d regret it the rest of his life.

It was the eyes. Must have been. He’d never seen a more endless set of eyes in his damn life.

“I’m curious.” She declared, tapping her free hand on the bench while she studied him. “I was on my way out, you know. Too much crazy religion for my taste.”

“The Chantry freaks you out more than the demons?”

“I can shoot the demons. It’s frowned upon to start murdering old women squawking at me, but they are annoying.”

She wrinkled her nose in evident distaste and something flipped in his stomach. The wind picked up again and took more of the hair from her braid, whipped it across her cheeks.

He had the sudden, maddening urge to trace his gloved fingers over her jaw and tuck it back behind the shell of her ear before cupping her cheek and drawing her sweetly towards him in a passionate kiss that-

She was either far too clever for her own good or used to inspiring a chaotic inferno of lust wherever she went, because she clearly saw the direction his thoughts veered off into. And all the woman did was bit her lower lip between her teeth to stifle a laugh he was sure would be throaty and sinful.

Yeah. He definitely didn’t need to sit down next to her on the bench. He needed three feet of space between her and him at all times to stop himself from doing something stupid.

His legs didn’t get the memo.

He plopped his ass right next to her, their thighs touching teasingly, but she didn’t bother moving. Instead, she simply eyed him with a distinct blend of wariness and interest. He sensed it would take more than his roguish charm to break down that caution, but he didn’t need to do all of it now.

He was used to playing the long game, after all.

“What’s your name, Princess?”

“Cadash.” Varric’s heart leapt in triumph. That was a good name for lyrium. A very good name. It was about time he had some good luck.

Then she added the kicker. “Maria Cadash.”

Oh. Oh they had hit the fucking vein with this one. They didn’t just have Cadash clan operating in Haven, they had one of the fucking heirs to the whole pot. A winning hand, if he played it right.

“Nanna sent me a letter telling me to get the hell out of dodge before the humans blew up the sky. Again.” She smirked, shaking her head. “But I’d just gotten comfortable.”

“We can keep you quite comfortable, Princess.” Varric insisted. Maker, he had hit the nail on that head with her nickname. He had bonafide Carta royalty on his hands and he’d do well not to lose her.

She leaned forward, her shirt dipping open with the motion, drawing his eyes for just a second and making him think of other things he could have in his hands. Because he was weak. A weak, weak man.

Maria held his gaze, brought the sweet back up to her mouth, and bit into the flaky dough. His eyes flew to the sugar dusting her pretty lips. He had half a mind to lean in and kiss it off.

“You know, those are bad for you. Not a single apple actually in them, Princess.” Varric rasped.

Maria slowly licked the sugar off her bottom lip. “I only like things that are bad for me, honestly.”

Varric leapt on her admission of weakness. “Well in that case, why not supply the Inquisition? You couldn’t make a more dangerous decision if your life depended on it. Think of the rush of danger. The cloak and dagger thrill. The late night missions and secret assignations…”

He sweetened his voice to the same low, cajoling tone he’d used on templar, guards, coterie, and all the worst of Kirkwall. She watched his mouth move with rapt attention, her snack forgotten.

Varric didn’t know how his arm slipped behind her back, but suddenly his palm was on the curve of her spine in a gesture that seemed carelessly intimate. Maria didn’t pull away. Their knees touched, her chin tipped up, and for a wild moment Varric waited for her to lean in and capture his mouth.

Instead, her smile curled up like the fire they sat beside. She tore her eyes from his to look at it with a shake of her head.

“It’ll cost you.” She warned. “This is risky. Risky isn’t cheap.”

Some things were worth paying any price for, weren’t they?

“We’ll find the coin.” He promised. “And you get to stay at the center of the action, just like you want.”

Her eyebrow climbed up her forehead. “You think I want to be underneath a spiraling hole in the bleedin’ world freezing my tits off?”

“Of course you do.” He stated, picking up an abandoned mug and holding it out to her in a silent toast. “It’s gonna be a hell of a story, Princess. Wouldn’t want to miss it.”

Just the slightest bit of her wariness fell away, revealing a wicked glint of humor and a spark of madness he’d seen too often in a dozen other brilliant women when they had made up their mind to have an adventure with or without him.

“No.” She declared with relish. “I suppose I wouldn’t want to miss it for the world.”

[prolestariwrites]

Open For Me [5]

Fandom: Devil May Cry Characters: Vergil/Reader Tags: Explicit sexual content, First time, First love, Violence, Death, Implied dubcon, Implied drug-induced sex Rating: M Part: 5 of 5

Summary: Vergil's life has been difficult as far back as he can remember, until he meets a young woman who saves his life. Can she save it again when he learns the truth of who he is, and bring him back from a dark and dangerous fate? A five-part story of pre- and post-canon Vergil.

A/N: Thank you to everyone for reading and to my friends @wordborne and @solynacea for their feedback. Please enjoy the final part.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Be gentle with me, for my heart hides so many wounds that never bleed. —Alexandra Vasiliu

There is a man who sits on the bench in the park across the street from your house. That in itself is not terribly strange: the homeless often find refuge in the public space. And he certainly seems homeless, draped in dark clothes that are little more than rags, his posture drawn in as if to hide.

You wouldn't have noticed him at all if it wasn't for the feeling he gives you when you walk by. Something familiar, maybe his shoulders, maybe his hands. It isn't unease, but the opposite: a driving curiosity to find out who is underneath the fabric. You don't see anyone anymore, not really, not since Vergil had left. He had been the only person you ever trusted, and that had been a mistake.

So you don't dare to ask or to offer. You watch him from your window, as he sits day after day. No one even seems to see him there, not even a cop as he strolls by. You start to wonder if he's just a figment of your imagination, until you hear his voice.

You are at your door, keys in hand, checking the mailbox when you hear one word: "No."

Coldness douses your spine and you drop the envelopes on the ground. You are afraid to turn around, not of him, never of him, but afraid he's not really there. It has been so long since you heard that voice, more than two decades, but at once you are a girl of nineteen desperately in love with someone who does nothing but lie. Tears blur your vision as your mind pleads with your body to turn around and look. Just look.

Slowly your head turns. Someone had offered him a bottle of water, and rebuffed they are now moving on. The figure settles back into itself, and your hands are trembling as you stare, waiting for more. But he does not speak again.

A minute slips by, then another. Does he see you? Why is he here, on that bench, that fucking bench outside of your house? You had left the apartment as soon as you were able, moving into this house in the city, the top half of a duplex you bought when the owner died. How did he know, how did he find you? Did he find you, or is this the biggest cosmic joke of the universe? Because you never forgot him, never moved on, prayed for days and nights he would come back until the pain of losing him turned you into stone.

Your feet are moving and you are halfway across the street before you notice. A car blares its horn at you, jolting you back to reality, and you dart to the sidewalk. The figure hasn't moved, not even when you were nearly hit. It can't be him, he would have moved, he would have saved you.

You approach slowly until you are standing in front of him. You realize your purse is gone, dropped somewhere, but your keys are still in your hand, like a weapon. Your eyes dart to the side and you note there is no sword. You can still remember the diamond pattern of the hilt, could draw it in your sleep.

Drawing in a shaking breath, you feel your lip shaking. "Vergil?" you whisper.

There is no answer, not even a movement indicating he had heard you. You swallow painfully, still waiting. "Vergil, is that you?" you ask again, a bit louder this time.

Slowly he stands. You step back, shaking now, his height so familiar that you let out a soft sob. "Vergil?"

"Do you know where it is?"

Blinking rapidly, you shake your head. "What?"

"Do you know where it is?"

His voice is different. Maybe this isn't Vergil? It's harder, rougher, like broken glass.

What has happened to him? "Vergil, come with me. Let me… I live right over there." You reach out and tug on his sleeve. "Vergil, please? Let me help you."

You pull harder and grab his hand. With a gasp you feel it is cold: cold as ice, his skin like stone, and when you look down you must swallow against the sight of gray skin that is cracked and broken. You remember so vividly that night in the kitchen when his face and arms had healed from an attack; in the years following, you had turned this over again and again, realizing he had never once been sick or hurt, no cuts or colds, no flu, no headaches. Demon prince, he had said to you, and some part of you had started to believe it, impossible as it is.

He snatches the hand away and turns. He moves quickly down the street, so quickly that it doesn't register for a moment. "Vergil! Wait!" You take off after him, tears blurring your vision as you try to keep track of the dark fabric. At the next intersection, the light turns green, and he disappears.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

You almost ignore the knock on your front door, frowning at the clock. Nothing good ever came after 9:00, that's what your mother always used to say. But when it comes again, firm and insistent, you put your book aside and pull the blanket around your shoulders, cautiously opening the door with the chain still on.

At first you don't recognize him. You frown and take in the tall build, the angles on the handsome face, the dark coat. But when he shifts and you see the glint of his blue eyes and the silver color of his slicked-back hair—silver, not white or blond, he had scolded once—you let go a gasp. "Vergil?"

He doesn't answer, but he doesn't need to. Your fingers fly over the locks until you can swing the door open wide, your mouth open as you stare. It's him for sure, just older now, a bit more… tired? You remember the cold, gray stranger from years ago, but this person is more like the boy you loved in your youth. Something wells in your throat, still filled with disbelief. How long has it been? How many years?

"It's been a while," he murmurs, and the sound of his voice makes you shiver.

"A while," you echo.

"You remembered."

Shaking your head, you say, "Of course I remember you."

"Can I come in?"

You blink, nodding, and step aside. Vergil's eyes sweep through the room as you replace the locks, and you realize how little has changed since he last stepped foot inside your home. A new ottoman, a couple of throw pillows, but other than that it is the same. The only thing that has changed, in fact, is you.

Wiping your hands nervously on your jeans, you ask, "When did you…?"

You don't even know what you are asking, but Vergil still answers. "Two days ago. I had some business to take care of, with my brother."

Your hands clench at your sides, the ease in his voice making the hair on your neck stand on end. "Business with your brother?" you hiss. "You've been gone for years! You left me! And that was you on the bench, wasn't it? That was you, after all that time, you came and sat outside of my house just to go again! Why? Why are you doing this?"

It actually looks like that got through. Vergil blanches, just slightly, and without asking he sits on the couch. His back is straight and he unbuttons his coat, the air of formality only stoking your anger. You've seen him hurt, and sick, and nearly half dead, you've heard him moan and cry and laugh with tears in his eyes. And he wants to sit on your couch as if he's a visitor from the local church making a social call?

"Vergil," you snap, moving in front of him with arms folded. "Tell me the truth."

"The truth." It's his turn to echo you, and to your surprise he reaches up and takes your hand. The little bit of affection catches you off guard, and all you can do is watch his thumb stroke the back of your hand, and remember. Vergil, sitting up late at night, reading books yellow with age as you dozed next to him. Listening to him talk about the places you would visit together, trying to picture him as you could never see yourself. Running his hands through your hair as he talked of his plans, the spark in his eye so lovely that it helped you ignore the lies on the surface that left you so unsettled at times.

You try to tug your hand away gently, but he holds firm. "I owe you an explanation," he says.

The laugh that huffs out of your throat is quick and humorless. "You owe me more than that."

Vergil glances up, and you see there is something different. A part of him you haven't seen since you were barely adults, something that is warm, something you stopped associating with him. "You're right," he answers.

The confession, as small as it is, catches you by surprise. "Since when are you so self-aware?" you say before you can stop yourself.

But he only shakes his head. "This feels strange," Vergil murmurs. You frown as he continues to stroke the skin of your hand, but his expression is thoughtful. "I'm feeling things that… well, I'm feeling, anyway. And I needed to come and see you, that much was certain."

It is sweet to say, even though you don't trust him, not yet. "Where did you go?" you ask.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," he replies, glancing away.

"Try me."

Clearing his throat, he asks, "Did you see on the news the story about Red Grave City?"

"Yes," you frown. "What about it?"

Vergil nods, easing back on the couch, and you sit next to him. He talks for a while, the most you've heard from him since you were young, and he goes on about legacies and power and all kinds of fantasy, leaving you enthralled without understanding why. He tells you about the sword he had lost, that belonged to his father—Yamato, you remember the name clearly, another detail he had shared you never really understood. There is hesitation on the next part, something he hides as he glosses over years spent "away", but the pain in his voice keeps you from asking more. He tells you about leaving his human self behind, of becoming a monster, only to be patched back together by his brother. Demon prince, that's what he had called himself, but could any of this be possible? He tells you of heading off to fight off Hell in order to save his son.

"Your son?" you interrupt.

Vergil nods. "It was unexpected."

That… stings. More than you're willing to admit, even to yourself. If he has a son, then that means… You shake your head, not ready to think about that. "You were right. I don't believe any of this."

He seems hurt by that, which catches you off guard. "I don't blame you," replies Vergil, although the cool timbre of his voice contradicts the very uncomfortable look on his face. "But I'm done with all that now. I tried to become something I'm not, and it didn't work. So now I'm going to try to just be…"

"Yourself?"

Vergil chuckles and meets your gaze. "I was going to say human. But I suppose myself is apt."

The corner of his mouth turns up in a smile, and against your better judgment, your heart softens. "I don't understand," you murmur. You reach up and stroke your fingertip against the side of his brow: something he always liked, and as always Vergil sinks just a bit, pressing against your touch.

"I know you don't." He hesitates, and you wonder: is he searching for the right words, or is he convincing himself they are true?

"What do you want?" you murmur.

He swallows, his eyes down. "Another chance? I keep asking for one from everyone." Finally his gaze lifts, and there is a warm sensation inside of you that swells because there is sincerity there.

"I'm older now," you say.

Vergil laughs. "So am I."

"I'm different," you clarify. "You broke my heart. You hurt me."

"I know."

Why is this so easy? It shouldn't be, not after so long, but he looks like the same boy who needed a place to stay on a cold night and felt so warm in your bed. "That was you on the bench, wasn't it?" you murmur.

He looks into your eyes and nods. "I don't know why. I came back and was dying. I needed to find someone, and I followed my instincts. I thought I was finding Yamato, but I found you."

You close your eyes and shake your head. "That night when you healed," you whisper, afraid of hurting him.

"I never wanted you to know," he says.

"Why?"

"It was too dangerous. Things wanted me dead."

The tone in his voice sends a shiver through you. But there is no lie in his eyes, not this time. "And now?"

"It's over, I suppose? I don't know. But… that part is over." Vergil swallows uncomfortably. "There is too much to say, I don't know how to explain it all."

"It's okay," you sigh. "We have time."

On instinct you reach up and press your palm to his face. The last time you did this, you were still barely children, and he had flinched away from your touch. But now he presses against your palm, sinking towards you, and Vergil wraps his arms around you to hold you closely. You press your cheek to his, feeling him tremble. He feels so strong and yet so vulnerable at the same time, and as you card your hand through his hair you wonder just what really happened to him.

You whisper his name and he turns to press his mouth on yours. It is unexpected, but when has Vergil ever not surprised you? Your lashes are wet as you kiss him back, the sensation so familiar it almost hurts. Your heart aches remembering the last kiss, the last touch, the last time you were together. It feels like a lifetime ago; it probably was.

He pulls you closer so you are practically draped over his lap. His hands slide up the back of your shirt, warm and firm and smooth. The last image you have of him as that figure on the street is fading like a dream as you press against his body. The kiss turns more passionate as one hand slips into your hair, and Vergil sighs as you open your lips to slide your tongue along his. The taste of him awakens the part of you that had gone cold and quiet when he left, and you cover his body with yours, needing to be close.

His heart is beating wildly when you push your hands under his shirt and your palm finds his chest. Vergil helps you remove his shirt, and then he pulls off yours. The look on his face is nothing but reverence, but you blush a bit, suddenly self-conscious. "I haven't…"

He looks up at you and nods. "About Nero… it's hard to explain, but I will. Just know I've never been unfaithful to you."

Your brows draw down slightly, wondering what that means. But he pulls you into another kiss, his hands roaming you now, and you decide to leave that until he can explain.

It takes no time for him to remove your bra, and then he turns to lay you back gently. Vergil was never a rough lover, but he could be hard, so the soft care makes this moment feel strange. His mouth presses to your neck, and he whispers how beautiful you are as they travel downward. Your own heart is fluttering by the time he kisses your breast, your eyes sliding closed when his lips tug on your nipple.

Again, he is not demanding, instead soft as he sucks on your flesh. He teases you with his teeth as your body melts with pleasure, his fingers caressing you tenderly. "Do you want to stop?" he asks, his voice strained as he presses his forehead to your chest.

"No, no, of course not," you laugh.

He kneels up and takes hold of the waistband of your leggings. "I love you," he says as he pulls the fabric down. "I never stopped."

You lift your hips and his hands travel back up your bare legs. "I didn't either," you reply.

It goes on like this, slow and quiet, his demanding touch now so tender, his searing kisses a sweet gentleness. He lights your core on fire with his touch, until you are moaning and reaching for him, gasping for more. "Please Vergil… I need you…"

"Open for me." Your eyes close and a tear rolls down your cheek as your thighs spread and he presses inside your body. It's been a long time since the last time you were together, and it's uncomfortable at first; but he uses just as much care now, his shallow thrusts making your back arch from the cushion.

You slide your hands on his chest, fingers searching his skin for any signs of the cracked and gray skin. But he is perfect and whole and solid, and once his hips are flush with yours you look up at him, eyes wide and searching.

He stares down at you almost in awe as he starts to move. You press your hand to his cheek again and he winces, and you see the pleasure and pain in his face. Your palm grows wet as he kisses your skin, and before long he is thrusting with a deep, steady pace that has you both moaning. You twist underneath him as the pleasure mounts, the anticipation building until it snaps inside and your body begins to pulse. Vergil groans, long and loud, and as your muscles tighten around him he spills inside of you. His seed is hot and thick as it fills you up, making you cry out as wave after wave of bliss has you holding to him tightly.

Vergil sinks against you, laying with his head on your chest, another thing from years ago that you remember well. How is it two decades pass and yet it feels like no time at all? You stroke his hair as he grows soft inside you, his hands clenching and releasing against your back as your breathing slows.

"I won't let you go again," he says.

"Okay," you reply. Vergil raises his head and you kiss his lips. "We can start over."

"I have so much to explain," he sighs.

You stroke his cheek. "No more secrets. I am ready to hear it all."

He nods and leans in for another kiss. As he moves over you, you remember the red pendant and how it had pressed against your chest your first night together. That Vergil had been just as strong, and just in need of help. But this time, you are stronger too.

[ellewritesathing]

Serpent Heart

Summary: Being Sabrina’s fraternal twin had its upsides but lately the downsides were starting to get to you. You’d made a plan to deal with it, and the only question now was if you were going to let Caliban get in the way.

Masterlist

Word-count: 1.6k+

A/N: hey guys so this is a little different from my usual fluffy clay boi but @hecatemacbeth7 requested this eight years ago and they’ve been so patient with me so i thought i’d post this today and then the next part of Faking It next week 💕 (also let me know if you want this to be a series?i don’t think i’m as good at angst as i am fluff but ya girl can try)

One of your earliest memories from after your parents died was listening in on a conversation between your aunts and one of their guests. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence - you and Sabrina would slip into one of your hiding spots and stay quiet until everyone left - but this time was different. This time their guest was a seer.

She saw right through the two of you.

Luckily, she was much more benevolent than the other guests your aunts brought around. She laughed at your efforts to squirm away and asked if she could give you each a reading. Hilda wasn’t so sure if that was a good idea but Zelda encouraged any and all dabbling in witchcraft.

All she had to do was touch Sabrina’s cheek to tell her that her strong (though sometimes unfounded) sense of right and wrong would get her into trouble and that she would go through many trials before achieving greatness. She was a cat, blessed with nine lives and cursed with curiosity.

One little touch was all it took for her to tell you that you were a snake. You’d grow cold in the shadow of someone close to you before striking out on your own. Ambitious and cunning, you would always find your way into the sunlight.

The others forgot about that afternoon in a few weeks, too busy with other responsibilities or new obsessions, but you never forgot.

Almost ten years later and her words echoed through every step you took and every word you spoke. Would things have been different if you’d never met the seer? Maybe not, but maybe you’d feel differently about the plan that started forming when you went to Hell.

It all started when Lilith’s right to rule was challenged and Sabina - always quick to act, not so quick to think - made her claim to the throne. The same throne that would have been yours if you were born seven minutes earlier. The same throne that Caliban would later challenge her for.

Caliban was a tricky thing to understand. If you were a seer, maybe you'd know whether or not to trust him.

He wanted the throne, that much was clear, but he seemed to have taken an interest in Sabrina - then again, everyone took an interest in Sabrina. Harvey took an interest in her, Nick took an interest in her, and now Caliban had. It wasn’t that you were short of admirers, but that the only ones you took an interest in always preferred Sabrina.

And it’s not like you blamed them. Despite the way it may seem, you loved Sabrina. She understood you in a way that no one else did, even if she didn’t understand everything, and she loved you just the same. She was your other half, your better half.

That’s why you never put up a fight when it came to her; because at the end of the day, you cared about her happiness more than your own. You’d help her rule if she beat Caliban, and you’d figure out some harebrained scheme if she lost. It’s just the way that things were when it came to the two of you.

In the end, Sabrina got all the glory and you did all the work. Sabrina was the beautiful assistant that everyone looked at while you conned them out of their hard-earned cash. They all thought Sabrina was the magician anyway, so maybe it was time for you to debut your solo act.

So you let Caliban and Sabrina battle it out in Hell knowing all the while that you’d take the throne from whichever one of them won. Obviously, it would be easier if Sabrina won but you could handle Caliban, even if he had the hordes of hell behind him. After all, what was a demon to a Morningstar? A boy made of clay to an angel?

That kind of reasoning was why you didn’t mind when Caliban started following you around. He never spoke to you anyway; all he did was watch and keep his distance. You let him look at you all he liked because he didn’t realize that you were looking right back. He was curious. You learned all his little tricks in the week or so that he spent following you, and then you set a trap.

You went about your day just like it was any other, but went to the woods after rehearsals for the musical. Caliban didn’t come out of the shadows as soon as you expected, so you started drawing out other things to keep busy. You’d done it dozens of times before, and the whisps were always the first to come out.

They froze everything they touched in the already-cold forest, but you didn’t mind the cold. They danced across your skin and soon you were dancing and singing along with them. The sun went down while you had your fun, and Caliban came out with the moon. Pretending not to notice, you spiraled into him during one of your turns.

“Mind if I cut in?” Caliban asked, holding out a hand to steady you.

“That depends,” you said with a smile. You used your hand to open up his palm. “Do you know how to dance?”

“I’m not opposed to learning from a pretty little thing like yourself,” Caliban said.

Either he was a quick study or someone had already taught him. You didn’t mind either way. It was better than having him stepping on your toes, plus it felt nice to have his hand in yours and on your waist. The way he looked at you also sent some very annoying butterflies in your stomach into a flurry.

When the rest of the stars started coming out and the whisps were fading, you asked, “So are we going to keep dancing until the sun comes up or are you going to tell me why you’ve been spying on me?”

Caliban smiled and stared into the trees as he thought. All he said was, “You’re more difficult to understand than your sister and your friends.”

“How so?”

“Your friends are all very human with very human concerns. Sabrina included.” Caliban looked down at you and stopped moving. “But not you. You understand Hell, you don’t fear it.” He lifted a hand to your face and moved some hair from the side, watching where his skin made contact with yours before settling back on your eyes. “Tell me, Morningstar, is there anything you fear?”

Caliban started leaning in and your breath hitched. He smiled before pressing his lips to yours, and for a second you smiled too. For a second, you let him kiss you and hold you close. Once that second was over, you remembered that he was a manipulative demon who was using you to get the Throne.

You bit down on his lip hard enough to draw blood and pushed him away. Caliban fell to the ground at the same time that the metallic taste flooded your mouth. You spat it out and knelt next to Caliban to keep him in the dirt with an icy hand. The cold radiated out from your fingertips and across his chest, but he didn’t fight it.

“You want to know why I’m not afraid of anything in Hell?” you asked, pushing down a little bit harder. “I'm not afraid because I’m the one they should be afraid of.”

The ice was snaking up Caliban’s neck but all he did was stare at your hand. “So you know a few tricks," he said. "I don’t think Hell is going to be very afraid of an ice princess.”

“They will be.”

You used your other hand to push some curls from his forehead.

“You’re willing to cross your sister in order to do it?”

“If I have to,” you said. He was silent for a few seconds so you continued, “Sabrina gets everything, have you noticed that? I never used to mind when, but now I want more.”

“And what is that you want?” Caliban asked.

“Earth.” You pushed down just a touch harder on his chest and watched the ice spread across the rest of his body. “You and Sabrina can fight it out in Hell - I’ll pick up the pieces of whoever’s left - but Earth is mine.”

Caliban was unusually quiet as he thought it over, realization spreading over his face as he did. Giving up your claim to the throne, helping Sabrina with the challenges, all the so-called secret trips to Hell … it all dawned on him at the moment it took you to freeze him to that spot on the forest floor.

“I could help you,” Caliban said in a quick voice. “We could make an alliance; I become King of Hell and you can do whatever you please here on Earth.” He looked back down at your hand on his chest for a moment before looking into your eyes again. “Or I could tell your friends about this clever plan of yours.”

“And who would believe you?” you asked. “It would be just like you, Caliban, to turn sisters against one another. You’d do anything for the throne, right?”

Caliban clenched his jaw and moved to break out of the ice that encased his body. His only problem was that he underestimated you, but that was everyone’s first problem. The ice was too strong for him to break it.

You leaned down with a smile on his face. “I’ll come back for you once this all over,” you said, ignoring him when he asked what you were doing. You pressed your lips to his and kissed him while the frost spread over his face. Pulling away, you gave a sad smile to his frozen form. “One day.”

Tagged:  @t-a-i-l-o-r-m-a-d-e  @miss--moose  @marrypuffsstuff  @harryscarolinaa  @igorsbby  @foji2000  @mschfavngz  @artaxerxesthegreat  @thxmagic  @strawberriesandknives  @xealia  @hotmessindisguise  @sweetrogers  @reheated-coffee  @shelby-x  @perseny-blog  @millie-753  @luneerius  @shizzybarnaclee  @lettherebelovex  @throughparisallthroughrome  @ietss​  @thebookwormlife​  @mechanicalanimalz  @mariamermaid​  @nqbmf​

[anestheticrage]

Be me: Japanese honor student🎓, 15, with half a brain and even less of a plan. Hunting bitches by day and witches by night. Livin that dank only child✌️ life while mom n dad yeet all over the globe, leavin me plenty of time to forget not to make 2 lunches for myself #quirky 😜

no time for socialization or basic electronics skills ???📱??? when your best friends are an alien demon rabbit🐰👽 and the inexplicable Hole ™ in your brain. lmao, btw did i mention im ✨M✨A✨G✨I✨C✨A✨L✨

dreamin bout my 2D waifus again when familiar pink haired cancer patient dances through my brain passin out fliers: Kamihama Meguca Dating Service: Sponsored by Cult of the Magius. 250 stones per session 🤔

seems legit, Mr. Moneybags. wasn't spending my unwieldy sack of gemstones on anything else anyway. lets pull 💎💎💎

first up we have Redhead Radagast and her plethora of plants. 🌿☺️🦎

anndd, nearly dies immediately. 

well not off to a great start but i guess shes pretty cute at lea- oh FUCK its her girlfriend, Tsundere Poseidon😒🔱💦, and their exasperated, straight and single Sword Mom 😔🗡️🔥. fml gonna have to save up for the next pull. might as well play a few rounds with what i got tho. 

get in some good girl talk about things like school, color coded hair styles, body count, permanent soul damage, and our personal demon pacts. ya know, the usual 😚 . realize my dark backstory seems to be missing, so the girls take me to Ketchup Queen Sappho 🍅🥧 (wtf?) to molest my glowy egg stone. whatevs, more action than ive had since Kuroe 🖤 got added to the story anyway

the gang agrees it's time to hunt down the cutest rabbit pimp 🕶️🐇💵 in the city. >> say 🎵mukyuuu🎵 one more time and ill hug you so hard my backstory will pop right out, you adorable fluffy bastard. plz be my new best friend 💕

Form brand new friendship pact with Kyubae, and remember that my lil Sis 🐥 was always the best wingman for pickin up magic chicks, and kept her side of the room so spotless i forgot she existed. whoops 乁༼☯‿☯✿༽ㄏ Maybe if I find her i can stop paying these exorbitant pull fees.📵💎

speaking of which: hot damn this week's featured bachelorette is a 19 year old model and magical detective🔎 with massive levels of PTSD and self loathing 🥵💙💦 more likely to stab you or dramatically jump off a rooftoop than utter a single positive comment. wow, maybe i really COULD find true love…

... if i had MORE THAN A 1% FUCKING DRAW CHANCE. 😡 smh

hard to make much progress finding sis or winning the broken heart of a hard boiled detective amidst the never ending lover's quarrel of the Trident Vine Lesbians. 💔 Sword Mom tells them if they don't behave a monster will take them away. LOL classic mom 🤣

>>>HOLY FUCK IT DID

declare all-out war on urban legends, starting with staircases ⚔️ to reunite the dysfunctional trio, and hope that I net a way better lineup with the next 10x pull. at least sad sleuth lady came to help out. they say combat is the best way to bond wi-   and there she goes off the rooftop again 🙄 fml

alright that got way off track, we need a fresh start, away from all the loli drama. how bout a little B&E🔓🔨🤷🏻‍♀️ at the local house of worship to clear my head. ahh nothing like the unanswered prayers of the masses to get you in the mood for another wasted pull, and the 🔥 MIGHTIEST 🔥 headache you could ask for with a side of Double Cooked Pork 🐖🍜 (meh 5/10🧾)

venture forth into the spiritual unknown with your new human flamethrower🔥🌻🧡 and ask your favorite private eye to please, for the love of Eve, trade Meguca accounts with me~~~ Head through the eastern spirit portal to meet up with hologram propaganda sis and detective crush's evil ex, who joined a dating-app cult (#fuck) and also turned into the moon?🌕?(that's rough buddy)

get ambushed by Acid Horse on Wheels 🌈🐴 and vomit up my soul so hard that its time for a crossover episode. T U R F F F   W A R R R *que operatic harmonies* 💛 Blondie with the hair drills and enough attitude and guns to fill up a noble phantasm tries to ban my account permanently, but PI heartthrob denies her admin privileges. aww babe i didn't know you cared. 😭♥️

get kidnapped by my new true love and go back to her place 😏  defs enough empty rooms to house five emotionally traumatized girls and at least two ghosts hehehe👻 XD 💚🃏💜🎸 decide to form the anti-gossip brigade and recruit my blazing sunflower after getting ambushed by the witch living in my fruit loops🥣

❌outvoted 2:1 that cults are bad. mf. fiinneee one last pull to round out the team and then I'll delete the app. cmonnn Karin 🎃~

OH HELL YEAH TWO FOR ONE.

Always wanted a daughter 💜🔨🐄 with a penchant for pissing off the local Martial Arts & Books Club and drinking suspicious liquids offered by total strangers. Well if it's good enough for her AND the sexy mayadere with enough game to seduce a mermaid, might as well get in on that myself. 

#curseddrank 🤢 0/24 would not recommend to a friend, 'cept maybe Ria

win alot of cash 🤑, blow up a fountain, meet the pied piper²🎶🖕, moon cult, monochrome feathers, something about liberation✊🏻; adopt temper tantrum cow girl. aces 💜🥩

Next up!!! skydiving with DJ Hammer! Jump to apparently-not-certain death after suicidal A.I. 💚💾🗼 tells you to rescue her hostage before they run out of Radiohead albums and have to move on to Thom Yorke's solo discography. save the invisible shield kitten 💚👑😿 from happiness and get chased through the internet by the sexiest homicidal Paint Pallette 💚🎨😈 since Caravaggio. (apparently green is the color of the digital apocalypse. i’m deleting Kako from my friend's list)

that’s it, fuck this app. 250 stones 💎 per-life-threatening-experience is more than i’m willing to deal with 😓 don’t wanna mess with the perfect nuclear family anyway. we've already got: 

✔️the two emotionally traumatized moms with memory and commitment issues

✔️the adhd daughter with anger management problems and a giant hammer

✔️the psychologically abused scizophrenic cat

✔️and the eccentric aunt with crippling anxiety

#squadgoals

now that were done hoarding bitches, its time to hunt the witches. and the bitches makin the witches. btw did i mention the witches ARE the bitches! AND WERE ALL GOING TO DIE!? 📽️⁉️💀 wait fuck lets back up a second

This is Nemo📕 and Token🧪 and they have all the answers but prefer if you only ask vague questions in exchange for vague responses so they can fill in the rest by discussing their superior intellect 🧠 at length. not to mention they built that dating app, so of course everyone in my harem decides to be a FUCKING. TRAITOR.🤬

cept waifu prime ofc 🥰💙. [PTSD > brainwashing] 'yOu CaN bE tHe LeAdEr NoW'. i have been from the very beginning you traumatized Hinedere nightmare. maybe if you weren't so caught up collecting surrogate daughters you would've noticed IM👏THE👏ONLY👏 ONE👏PROGRESSING👏THE FUCKING👏PLOT✨

rescue the rest of dysfunctional found-family™ from selves before my adorable firebender burns down Disnihama🎡🔥😱 during her weekly anxiety attack. (love the makeover T B H) 

CHAPTER 8: Magical Girl Massacre🩸🗡️

   - everyone has like, the shittiest day ever

   - the new Pope really needs to be extradited from the church

   - make friends with a really pretty tree 🌺🌲✨

i swear, if i don't finish this god damn story in time to get that free pull im gonna beat the shit out of every mirror i find in that giant mansion that i haven't even had any time to even mention yet. 🖕🏚️ let alone EVERYTHING happening with the prequel [fuck you, I'm the star] girls 💗💜💙💛❤️️ and their multidimensional melodrama. We don't need that many repetitive af episodes to emphasize that Homo-ra is a shitty person. we've all seen Rebellion. 🙄

NO, I DONT CARE IF YOU WANT SAPPHO'S BACKSTORY, I ONLY HAVE 79 STONES LEFT AND IF YACHAN FINDS OUT I HAVEN'T DELETED THE APP YET IM GONNA HAVE TO GO SLEEP IN WITH SANA 😭💎💸😠

uhhhggggg where were we… Topple a cult and burn down Hotel Denoument only to realize that Sis was fused with the dating app servers this entire madokafuckin time (told ya she was the best wingman 😊). 

Dilemma: Sis =🥚, Triumvirate of Trouble want 🐣. What do? vote now:

Help Hatch - IIIIIII

Not Do That - IIIII

What The Actual Fuck Is Going On - IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Lets just fight everyone until something good happens.

🔥🔫🔥🗡️🔥😱🔥🌆🔥😱🔥🛡️🔥💣🔥

Kill (???) the artist-in-chief of the italian reindeer murder police after teaching her the true meaning of Christmas 🎄 hatch 🐣lil Sis and realize she WAS your wingman all along🐰 MUKYUUUU! we're just gonna ignore how much trouble it would have saved if you'd just mentioned that. "yOu DiDnT aSk..." 

FUCK YOU SPACE BITCH. ONCE AN INCUBATOR ALWAYS AN INCUBATOR 🖕🐇🔪

anywho, somewhere along the lines we of course summoned the Antichrist ⚙️ because why not raise the stakes to max and still not kill off a single character. Madofuckinkami, can we PLEASE wrap this up. 😩💤

feathers (not the culty kind, tfm) rain from the sky, and the power of friendship and not having the Urobutcher 🔪🩸as a lead writer saves our peacefully sectioned off alternate reality 😇

TL:DR fuck cults, real life waifus DO exist, don't sell your soul to space rabbits, or your stones to megacorporations. Enjoy arc 2 on the JP server with your shitty translation patch you filthy fuckin weebs 

Yours Truly, 

- Thirsty Weeb Eroha 💗💎😘 

[katzkinder]

Month early birthday present for @mahi-does-some-art because if i don’t publish it now, I WILL forget. Kuromahi, fic under the cut. Please be aware that it has been literal actual YEARS since I’ve written, like.

A real one-shot. 

Happy birthday Puff!!

‘Are you afraid?’

It’s a question that reverberates inside his mind before, during, and after every battle, no matter how brief they may be.

‘Are you afraid?’ he wonders again in the split second before his fangs pierce his Eve’s flesh, before he drinks the blood given to him all too freely.

‘Are you afraid?’ he nearly asks aloud, once, after some roughhousing (emphasis on rough) between Lawless and Licht nearly catches Mahiru in the crossfire and Kuro’s first instinct is to make himself a living shield, coattails and claws alike brandished and a snarl almost, almost, curling his lip, before his mind catches up enough to realize that he just made a threat display at what were quite possibly two of the people least likely to hurt any of them (excluding each other).

Lawless is staring at him in obvious surprise, Licht similarly frozen for but a moment.

And then he’s kicking Lawless behind the knee hard enough that he nearly goes down, and, despite the glare Greed sends the pianist’s way, it’s clear that whatever message Licht intended to convey got through just fine because the next second Lawless is sheepishly apologizing for them not being more careful about just who might be in the way.

Kuro freezes up, curling in on himself and muttering his trademark “can’t deal…” even as Mahiru brushes it off, stepping out from behind him with a placating hand on his arm. He ignores the sidelong look his Eve gives him, afraid of what he’ll find in his expression, and instead prepares to tune out the inevitable lecture the Greed Pair are about to receive about not trashing people’s homes, and how if they have to fight, at least take it outside, the usual sort of thing that happens whenever the two choose to visit.

He spends the rest of the evening as a cat, enduring Licht’s endless doting over “Neko-san” and Lawless’s even more endless complaints over Licht’s endless doting. By the time they leave, it’s nearly pitch black out, with the moon and stars above obscured by thick, heavy clouds.

“Ah– I forgot that it’s supposed to storm tonight. Oi, Angel-chan, you’ve got an umbrella in your backpack, don’t you?”

“Of course I do.”

“Great! Hand it over!”

“Hah?”

“If I let you hold it, you’re just gonna let the water spill onto my shoulder!”

“As if an angel like me would share their umbrella with a demon in the first place. Catch pneumonia and die–”

“Oi?! Lichtan!! ... Ah, whatever, it’s probably some lame, ultra cutesy--Don’t try and kick me!”

The rest of their argument becomes too muffled to hear clearly as Mahiru shuts the door on them, pinching the bridge of his nose and muttering something about disturbing the neighbors. Kuro sinks down further into his seat, watching with some small amount of confusion the newly stiff way Mahiru seems to be moving. The curtains are drawn tight over the balcony, and when his Eve turns back to face him, he quickly flicks his eyes back down to the screen in his hands.

It’s bothering him.

It’s almost like...

“Mahiru. Are you--”

His words are lost in the clap of thunder that interrupts, and don’t come back in light of the yelp Mahiru lets out. It’s loud, and sharp, and while he tries to play it off... Kuro knows him well enough, he thinks, to note the very real fear behind it. More than just being startled.

It’s enough to give his suspicions more weight. Outside, the sky opens up for a torrential downpour. Personally, he’d always found the sound of storms to be soothing. Mahiru’s subtly shaking hands tell him his Eve doesn’t share his sentiments.

He doesn’t know what to do.

Much like every other time he was unsure of himself and his actions, life takes the decision out of his hands, this time via knocking the power out. An annoyed click of the tongue.

“Stay there,” he says, not that he has to. Mahiru has completely frozen up in the center of their living room. The look on his face... It makes his heart squeeze. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid of the dark.” 

It sounds callous, he knows it does, but that’s the point. A flicker of annoyance crosses the other’s face and he feels a flicker of smug relief.

“Of course not! Jeez, help me find some candles and a flashlight.”

“Wait, don’t--”

A soft, but heartfelt, swear meets his ears.

“That’s why I told you not to move...”

“Ugh... I wish I could see in the dark like you, Kuro... The only thing I can make out is your eyes.”

“My eyes?”

Without thinking, he lifts his hand to one. Somehow he had forgotten about the glow vampiric eyes give off. Isn’t that scary? Isn’t that frightening? Don’t you think I’m a monster?

He pushes those thoughts away in favor of grabbing Mahiru by the elbow and leading him over to the couch he had previously been parked on, pushing the boy down by the shoulders to sit.

“Stay. There. I mean it. The last thing I need is you covered in bumps and bruises from your oh-so-aggressive furniture.”

It’s kind of nice, being able to so openly observe the faces Mahiru makes in response to his teasing without the other knowing he’s so enamored with every shift and change.

“Just go get the--”

This time, the flash of lightning lights up the whole place for one brief, heart stopping moment before a boom loud enough to shake the building follows, and suddenly, lithe, strong arms he could snap with ease are wrapped around his middle. They don’t let go. He can feel the whole of Mahiru trembling against him.

A sigh. Mahiru stills under the hand he places on the back of his head.

“Scoot over.”

The command is followed easily, a more distant rumble making the boy flinch. Kuro plops down gracelessly beside him, draws Mahiru close to his side, and tucks that mop of brown against his shoulder. For a moment, there’s nothing but the sound of the storm waging war outside. Briefly, he thinks of Lawless and Licht, battling the elements.

“... How come you never told me you were afraid of thunderstorms?”

Mahiru shifts, but doesn’t pull away. Kuro strokes the back of his neck with a thumb, slow and soothing.

“It’s stupid...”

“So is being afraid of the vacuum cleaner.”

He feels the faintest of twitches pull at his lips when Mahiru snorts soft amusement against his throat.

“Kuro... I...” 

Mahiru’s hesitant, and he feels a stab of annoyance, one that disappears quickly when those calloused hands grip more tightly at the front of his jacket.

“‘m sorry... It’s just... It’s hard to talk about... Not even Uncle Tooru...”

Oh. Oh.

Quietly and without comment, he wraps Mahiru up in a secure hug, feels the other relax against him in a way that fills him with warmth.

“... Are you afraid of what he’ll say?” He really can’t imagine the man being anything but understanding and supportive, but he’s also intimately aware of the lies the mind will tell, the worst case scenarios that are so utterly ridiculous but feel so real in the moment before you push those words out.

“I don’t... Think so...?” Mahiru jerks again as the windows rattle, and Kuro moves so he’s lying back, dragging the other to lay atop his chest, ear over his heart so that the irregular, slow thump of a creature that’s only half alive can maybe, hopefully, drown out some of the cacophony. Initially, his human partner goes stiff, then curls up in the space between the back of the couch and Kuro’s side, tangles their legs together and goes still. Like this, Mahiru feels just as fragile as he hardly ever looks. It’s a bit hard to reconcile it with the bold, shounen-protagonist try-hard he so often comes off as. It easily lines up with the way he had felt after the collapse of C3, when Kuro had been the only thing propping his unconscious body up, and the agony that was waiting for him to open his eyes again, battered, bruised, but alive. “I don’t know... I think I’m just... Ashamed. It’s so silly. I should be over this... I’m sixteen.”

“And I’m practically ancient. Still freaked out over that army of Roombas at Gear’s place... Seriously, why does he have so many...?”

Another giggle eases his heart further, and he lets his hand card through puppy-brown hair, feels Mahiru sigh contently against him.

“Kuro... Can we...?”

“Yeah. We can stay like this.”

Unbeknownst to him, if he were to put that question into words--Are you afraid?--the human that eventually falls into dozing slumber despite the terrible weather would answer, warmth and affection in every syllable.

Not when I’m with you.

[jinned]

mea culpa | seokjin | m

snippet: you’ve traveled long and far to seek out a warlock to be your teacher. but he ends up teaching you much more than just magic...

pairing: seokjin x female reader, ft koh shinwon

genre: smut, fluff, humor, angst

au: fantasy, warlock jin, half warlock reader

word count: 16.9k

rating: explicit

warnings: swearing, demon summoning, mentions of the demon realm, mentions of death, mentions of blood, mentions of smoke, seokjin has a traumatic past, y/n’s parents died, seokjin feels responsible for someone else’s death, seokjin tricks a demon, someone is briefly on fire, mentions of infidelity, hidden identity, seokjin passes out in one scene, their love is gross

sexual warnings: explicit sex, impreg kink, oral (male receiving), oral after vaginal sex, dirty talk, licking, marking, choking, slight praise kink, begging, teasing, unprotected sex, seokjin is a dom and this shit aint vanilla so ur WELCOME, sir kink

a/n: you might recognize this fic from my old blog. if you do, please do not mention the name of my old url or pseud to protect my identity. thank you

Smoke erupts and billows instantly from the pentagram, making Seokjin fly backwards to avoid inhaling too much of it. In his youth he’d found out the hard way that sulfur infested smoke tends to burn the nostril hairs. Seokjin would spend the next couple of weeks after summoning a demon scrunching his nose in every which way to try to find some sort of relief from the constant burning and itching. Sulfuric smoke is also, surprisingly, not great for home decor! Numerous amounts of perfectly good curtains just...destroyed. They never even stood a chance. Endless nights were spent mopping the walls and so much money was wasted on scented candles...

Seokjin has learned immensely since then. Now, summoning a demon is as easy as loading a dishwasher. Annoying, nobody wants to do it, but relatively easy nonetheless.

The dark bluish grey smoke continues to build throughout the dimly lit basement. With walls made of concrete and hardwood floors, Seokjin had almost forgot to add windows when designing the place. Talk about ventilation problems.

Seokjin huffs annoyedly and grabs a book of spells off the shelf, sits down in the corner chair and waits. He knew that demons relating to love especially enjoy taking their sweet ass time being summoned.

Finally, after getting halfway through the spellbook, a dark body starts to bubble to life inside the pentagram. Its back is hunched over, shaking in movement as a cat would do before throwing up a fur ball. A large groan shakes the walls and Seokjin remains expressionless as he reaches out and catches a book that’s falling in midair, still reading his book in his other hand. He throws the fallen book back up into the air and with magic pushes it back into its rightful spot on the bookshelf. Seokjin resists the urge to yawn.

The head of the demon starts to form now. Its slimy somber scales shimmer in the dark room. Seokjin reaches behind his chair in the corner and grabs his umbrella. He opens it towards the demon and waits as he continues to read. The demon stretches its head upward towards the high ceiling and shakes vigorously. Globs of black slime and demon sweat splatter the room and bounce off the umbrella. After counting to ten, Seokjin closes the umbrella and sets it up against the bookshelf.

“What do you require from me, warlock?” The demon snarls, wet goopy blobs of drool seeping webs from its sharp jaws. Seokjin glances up and unfortunately notices the steady drool pool building at the demon’s feet, sneaking into every crack in the hardwood floors. Unknown to most amateurs, demon drool does not come out easily and the smell will last for a couple of decades if not longer. Seokjin groans realizing all but too late that he forgot to put his tarp down before drawing the pentagram. But that’s alright. He felt like moving soon anyways.

“Hello there, Asmodeus.” Seokjin smirks and slams his book shut, tossing it up into the air as it finds its spot on the shelf with other books. “What does one normally require when summoning the demon of lust?” Seokjin stands and picks at some dirt under his fingernails before crossing his arms to glare at the grotesque beast in front of him.

“You need a love potion.” The demon pants heavily, still trying to regain his breath.

“Precisely,” Seokjin says unamused. “So, if you may-”

“Not so fast, warlock. You know the deal. You know what I want,” it howls lowly.

Seokjin wishes he would have kept the book so that he could throw it at the demon. “Really there’s no need to act like an animal. You know the deal,” Seokjin mockingly throws back. “We negotiate price and then you give me the product. How about...five?” Seokjin wagers.

A wet gurgling sound erupts from Asmodeus’s throat. “Ten!” He demands.

Seokjin paces back and forth in front of the pentagram, holding his shoulders high with poise.

“Absolutely not. That’s far too long. Seven years of freedom. That’s my final offer.”

Asmodeus grunts his response before waving his hand side to side in the air. The smoke around him twirls and spools around his clawed hand. A few more drags of his claw and an object begins to form in the air. A faint flurry of pink light starts to shine amongst the dark bluish grays of the room. Seokjin stares completely mesmerized. The object takes full form and Asmodeus breathes out of his mouth to push it towards Seokjin. It’s a vial no bigger than Seokjin’s pinky finger. Inside, it holds a vibrant pink liquid. The vial has a pointed tip sharp enough to cut through skin. The knob on the top swirls in different directions, giving off a flare for the dramatics.

Seokjin gasps as he takes it into his hands. “It’s so cute!”

“I knew you were annoying. Paimon said so himself.”

“Aw man really? I thought Paimon liked me,” Seokjin pouts and sits back down in the corner chair. “I thought we had quite the lovely chat last time.”

“No demon wants to sit here and compare poetry with you for eight hours. Especially not the demon king Paimon.”

“Oh!” Seokjin slaps his palm to his forehead. “Paimon is the demon who grants slaves! Not the demon who is a slave! Damn. I guess I do tend to forget I get to hold you guys here until I say so,” Seokjin sighs heavily, “And all this time I thought he was actually interested in discussing Frost vs Dickens.”

The demon growls, its patience running thin, “No one...will ever...be interested.”

“Alright! Alright!” Seokjin tucks the vial safely into his robes and then raises his hands in defeat. “Then I guess we shall proceed with your payment.”

The demon licks its lips in excitement.

“I am so grateful you have decided to this favor for me for free!” Seokjin snaps his fingers together. Asmodeus tries to take a step out of the pentagram only to be burned and forced back by the invisible shield containing him.

“What?” The demon screeches at the top of its lungs, the force of the scream pulling Seokjin’s hair up in an oddly styled updo that remains in its horrid placement once the demon stops.

Seokjin takes a second and coughs, trying to get the smell of Asmodeus’s breath out of his face. He smooths down his coat front, then looks back at the demon. “I would be...careful with how you react next. I think you are forgetting who my dear old auntie is,” Seokjin walks around the room, cooing the words. “And you and I both know how desperately my beloved auntie wanted a child of her own, so guess who’s her favorite thing in all the realms?” Seokjin lays on the taunting as thick as he can. The demon huffs so intensely that sulfuric smoke comes out of his nostrils. His silence only boosts Seokjin’s ego.

“That’s right.” Seokjin turns his back to the demon only to look over his shoulder and bat his eyelashes as prettily as he can. “Me. I’m her favorite! So, I’d save my breath if I were you. No use in trying to threaten me. Cause I know that you know how unforgiving dear old Lilith is.”

“You just promised me seven years of freedom on earth.” Asmodeus tries to keep his anger under control by keeping his voice level.

“Yeah, I promised you seven years of freedom...from me!” Seokjin beams at Asmodeus, putting a little gleam of sparkle on his teeth for better impact. “I never said what type of freedom you’d receive. Although, I will say, I will miss you terribly.”

“You abuse your magic so…so much wasted potential.” Asmodeus sways within the tight confines of the pentagram.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’ve heard it all before from my father,” Seokjin mutters and looks back towards the bookshelf. Resting at eye level is a dark orb. Although it may look ordinary to anyone else, it inflicts pain deep within Seokjin’s body. The deep hurt that comes forth with the memories causes such physical pain that it leaves him gasping on the floor if he’s not in the right mental state. Today is just a pinprick. Seokjin looks away before it can cause any more harm.

“You will regret this, warlock. You’re already on thin ice with many other demons you’ve mocked.”

“Oh, please.” Seokjin turns his back to the demon and takes out the love potion from his robes. He stares deeply into it and listens as if it were talking to him. As the pink liquid moves back and forth with momentum, Seokjin feels a pull in the back of his mind.

You will never be loved.

Seokjin quickly shakes away the thoughts and puts the vial away yet again. Asmodeus is saying something behind him, ranting more likely, but he can’t hear the words. The weight of loneliness comes crashing down around him and all he wants is for this demon to be out of his house so that he can get to work on the potion.

“Yeah, yeah.” Seokjin waves at the smoke, not even bothering to look at Asmodeus. “I’m done with you. See you in seven years when you can come back to play! Flectere si nequeo superos, Acheronta movebo.”

Asmodeus roars and tries to rush out of the pentagram. He bounces back as if a force field binds him inside. “You can not move Hell you-”

Seokjin will never know what horrid name Asmodeus was about to call him, for he had already sent the demon back to Hell were it belongs.

Smoke rushes out through every crack in the room as it flees the scene. In a matter of moments the only proof that a demon had been summoned is the pentagram in the center of the room and all the snot and drool alongside it.

Seokjin takes out the vial once more and watches as the liquid sloshes around inside. Normally, when his head is a little more leveled, Seokjin would have asked about the side effects, how to properly use such a powerful concoction, and anything to fact check to make sure he was given the right potion. Under these circumstances though, Seokjin has grown impatient. Asmodeus, as hellish as he can be, is ironically an honest demon. Only novice warlocks have been tricked by him and that’s only due to the tricky wordplay Asmodeus gets off on. Asmodeus could be a much better demon if he would just listen to Seokjin’s poetry debates.

Seokjin leaves the room and shuts the door gently behind him. He walks up the stairs into the main floor of his home before heading up even more stairs towards his study in the attic. Across the room is an old wooden desk that’s been with him through many travels over the years. The walls are lined with yet more books covering almost every genre and subject. Every genre, that is, except horror. Seokjin can’t stomach the stuff.

He sits down in his desk chair and runs his hand over the top of the desk, wiping away the dust from its surface. Seokjin takes out the vial for the last time and uncorks it. The smell alone is overwhelming of peaches and roses, but masked beneath the innocent and alluring fragrance is an underlying darkness. Suddenly the peaches are rotten and the roses wilted. This is dark magic indeed.

Seokjin takes a deep breath and begins the spell.

Seokjin opens up the windows in his living room to let the dusty air waft out. Recently acquiring an old forgotten spell book, he’s been trying to revive some old tricks and... well...one of them was definitely not supposed to be resurrected. He wipes the soot from his face with the back of his hand, cringing at the smokey smell.

"All I wanted was to transport in time," he grumbles. Seokjin stares out one of the windows and revels in the newfound sunlight. He's locked himself inside for days now and completely forgot that spring is just around the corner. Well, by the looks of it, it's here now and has been for a few days. Bright rays of sunshine cascade down through his window, warming his skin. He closes his eyes and takes in the moment, finally allowing himself a seconds peace of mind.

Opening up his eyes again, he watches as the townsfolk of Daemur bustle about. Ah, to be human and have human agendas. He thinks to himself.

Daemur has always been a quiet town and that's what initially drew Seokjin to it about fifty years ago. The people are kind and over welcoming, but at the same time they keep to themselves unless they want something from him. They never bother to stop and think, "hmmm I wonder why blooms of smoke constantly come out of that weird warlock’s home at the edge of the town?" And for that, Seokjin loves them.

Plus it does make it easier that if they try to find him, they can’t no matter how hard they look. Seokjin is very prideful over his glamour work. What makes the glamour even better is that the town is in the middle of the desert. Most of the time, the people get confused and think it was just a mirage and head back to where they came from.

As the years go on, Seokjin begins to grow rather bored and, if he dare say, lonely. Being the only warlock in town has its nice moments. His favorite part being the constant praise and idol worshipping from the humans whenever he decides to step into town. Who wouldn’t love that? The cons outlist the pros, unfortunately. People are constantly calling out for him asking for help with simple tasks or wanting him to teach them magic and spells and how to summon demons. He can no longer walk about the town freely without someone tugging on his shirt sleeves asking for some sort of favor. Seokjin shudders with the memory of a young man who had approached him several years ago wanting to become Seokjin’s apprentice. Although he could have handled the situation a little bit better and more maturely, Seokjin still blames himself for that man’s death. He had no idea how serious the human boy was about summoning a demon and in Seokjin’s impatient youth, he had given that boy a summoning book. The young boy was charming, had a lot of potential. But so naive. His mundane fascination with magic was what ultimately lead to his undoing. So, Seokjin definitely had to rethink how he handled human affairs after that situation.

He isn't the only magical creature in Daemur, no not even close. Being surrounded by others from his world definitely soothe his mind from time to time. It just isn’t the same as being with those who understand him, those he can relate to. While other magical creatures remain close, he is the only warlock in the vicinity.

Seokjin plops down by the windowsill in his home and continues to stare out at the world before him. Maybe he should move again...he never did like staying in one place too long. The restlessness has definitely been creeping back into his bones like a deep tickle. Despite this, he just can't seem to shake this feeling that something is not only missing, but something very important is here in Daemur. He just hasn't found it yet.

Seokjin is about to get up and practice more spells when there's a knock on his door.

He sighs, tilting his head back for a moment before lowering it and standing to see who could possibly be bothering him yet again. And how the hell did they get past the glamour?

Growing up, your parents tried to hide you from anything that involved magic. Any storybook that had even the hint of magical creatures or magical worlds? Immediately tossed away. You always thought they were just being overprotective, simply trying to shelter their only daughter from delving too far into the world of make believe. You firmly believed this until you were around the age of twelve. That was when you cast your first spell. On accident, of course. But that’s also when you found out that your parents kept your identity from you your whole life. You tried getting them to talk to you about it, but every conversation was immediately diverted. It drove a wedge deep between you and your parents and none of your questions were ever answered.

Until the day they died.

And that's how you got here, walking this long dirt road trying to keep your hopes up and the soles of your shoes in tact. The sun has been beating down on you for the past few days, your skin now sizzling with burns. Your body feels like it'll never stop sweating and every pulse of the vein in your head makes you more and more dizzy. You've already torn the sleeves off of your shirt to use them to wipe off the dirt and sweat, but it just keeps coming back. With just a small backpack resting on your shoulders it's starting to feel as if the entire world is resting there too. Everything you knew growing up was not real.

The dust from the road puffs up in clouds of smoke with every step you take. Your throat feels like sandpaper as you trudge on, knowing very well that the town coming up in a few more miles is your final destination. If only there were some trees or hills or even a single cloud, just something to block this ghastly sun.

You shake your head and trudge on, trying to ditch the negative thoughts. The more you dwell on it the worse it will get.

So, instead, you focus on him.

Waking up feels like trying to shove boulders off of your body. You groan and sit up, trying to rub out the kinks in your neck. Today is the day, the day you make it to Daemur. You shake off your aches and pains and walk with a newfound spring in your step, determination the only thing keeping you going. For the most part, you zone out which helps you maintain your rhythm.

And then you see her, Daemur. In all her glory. Small townhouses erect in the midst of the desert like terrain. But something makes you squint your eyes. It looks to be as if there's grass and shrubbery, trees and flourishment. You look behind you and all you see is the dry with the tiny dirt path you've been walking on. Circling above the town are white puffy clouds, bringing a sense of peace and calm. There's no other explanation for such an anomaly.

The rumors must be true.

Something magical lives here.

You walk into the town and you're surprised with how friendly the public is. On the map it shows that Daemur is a relatively small town with a low population, and yet, many people bustle about with friends and family members, getting fruits and vegetables from street carts and gardening in their front lawns. You smile as you nod and wave back to those who have greeted you as you pass them.

"Oh, miss. You must have traveled so far. Please come sit down and have a glass of water." An elderly woman grasps you by your elbow with a gentle touch. With your body already feeling so weak and at its breaking point, you allow her to herd you into her small cottage house and straight into her dining room. She sits you down and brings you a tall glass of water and sits across from you.

Trying to remain mannerful, you sip on the water and try to look as if you’re not extremely uncomfortable in this stranger’s house. Your throat cries out as the water slowly slides into your mouth, begging you to relinquish your control. In truth, all you want is to take the glass and dump the water right over your head.

"Don't worry, dear. You're more than welcome to use the shower after you get some food and water into your system. I've got some soup warming up on the stove that will be ready soon."

Her kind words make you want to cry tears of relief. She reminds you of your own late grandmother with her long silver hair tucked away in a loose braid, strands twinging out and about. The soft wrinkles around her mouth and eyes show how much she's laughed in her lifetime and that brings a smile to your face. Your original suspicions and uneasiness slowly disappear.

"Thank you. For being so kind. I really wasn't expecting it when I walked into town." You cough slightly as your vocal chords try to adjust from not speaking for so long.

"Nonsense! It's what we pride ourselves on! No stranger should ever feel like an outsider here. We've all grown up in this town together so we all get excited when someone new comes to visit. Oh! By the way, my name is Miana. I always forget to introduce myself," she laughs and hits the edge of the table with her hand as she rocks her body back and forth.

You smile, feeling completely at home with this woman. "I'm Y/N."

"Well, Y/N. You best get cleaned up. I'm sure you're probably here to see the warlock. All the newcomers usually are."

"So he is here! The rumors are true?" You say a little too excitedly. Miana gets up and walks over to the stove and stirs the soup, completely unfazed by your intense enthusiasm.

"Yes. He's here. He's been a true blessing to this town. Saved us from the droughts. Without him, this town wouldn't have survived," she sighs sadly, but smiles immediately afterwards.

That surely explains all the greenery and clouds up above.

"Where is he?" You blurt out a little faster than intended. Miana giggles at you, finding your excitement endearing.

"None of us knows where he resides though. He's very private. Only the deserving can find him."

An eerie wave washes over you. "What do you mean by deserving?" You can't see Miana who's still in the kitchen.

Then, slowly with a voice that could freeze water, she says, "Are you what he deserves?"

You leave Miana's home after taking a shower and eating, her last words dangling around in your head like spiders descending from their webs.

The old woman had disappeared when you emerged from the bathroom, a simple note on the door saying she had gone back into town and that you can stop by the house again if you ever need anything.

Something deep in your gut tells you that you won’t need to go back there.

Are you what he deserves?

"What could that possibly mean?" You ponder out loud. Worry overcomes you. You don't have any money, any unique skills, and your looks are pretty average. How do you know if you're what he deserves?

Passing more cottage homes, you walk deeper into town. That sense of ataraxy you felt when you first arrived is back and you take a moment to relish in it. The cool breeze blankets your skin and soothes the burns on your body. Hot and cold dancing together across the tops of your bare arms and shoulders gives you a sense of floating, like you're ascending away from this world.

You force yourself out of the feeling. There’s no time to waste and you need to focus.

Up ahead is a Brobdingnagian tree standing higher than any building you have ever seen in your entire life. With an abundance of green and yellow leaves, the branches cascade down towards the ground, almost like arms wrapping around something they’re trying to protect. Birds flit around and talk to one another, completely ignoring the people below. You keep walking until you see the top of a chimney with reddish smoke billowing from it. Picking up your pace, you nearly trip over some of the tree roots.

What you thought would be just another cottage turned out to be a grand home, a mansion compared to the other houses in the town. What appears to be a white base coat paint on the house starts to shimmer the closer you get. Almost as if diamonds are laced in the paint. With large windows and a long walkway, this house is a dream come true.

Without really thinking twice, you walk up the steps and grasp the brass knocker and let it fall. Deep, thundering echoes clang throughout the confines of the home, ringing a lot louder than you were expecting.

When you're just about to give up and walk back towards the heart of the town and beg Miana for a place to stay, the door opens. Your heart pounds deep within your chest, your breath catches in your throat. A gorgeous man stands before you in black dress pants and a black button up shirt tucked all the way in. He's wearing an elegant open dress robe with splashes of purples, greens, and blues in what appears to be an upward splattered pattern. Behind the clothes, though, is what really gets your nerves going. This man has a chest reflecting perfect curves of a hilltop, his shoulders broader than the horizon line as he leans against the doorframe. He crosses his arms over his chest and his toned muscles physically bulge. When your gaze meets his you almost gasp for breath. Aloof eyes look you up and down, his jaw clenching before he meets your gaze once more. His black hair curls slightly at the end which would have given him a sweet boyish look if not for his sharp and defined facial features. There's something domineering about his stance, something...powerful.

"Are you going to just stare at me or is there something I can help you with?" He sighs and cocks an eyebrow up.

Panicked, you try to remember what brought you here in the first place.

"I'm uh...looking for someone!" You blurt out.

"Okay. And you need me because..." he draws out the last word, leaning forward slightly.

"I'm looking for a warlock."

This time, his expression changes from curiosity and unamusement to annoyance. His eyes flick up to the corner towards his home and then quickly back to you. He takes part of his bottom lip between his teeth, not necessarily chewing on it, but rather holding it in place. He looks deeply trapped in thought.

"I'm sorry if I'm disturbing you, I'll just go." You point back to the town and begin to turn when he grabs you by the crook of your arm. Heat radiates where he touches you. His hands are darkened with a black ashy substance, smearing traces of it behind on your skin.

"I'm the warlock." He proclaims proudly. He begins to lead you inside his home, your stomach churning from nerves and you hope your arm isn't shaking in his grasp.

He ushers you to the left once inside his home which appears to be his living room. A single grey couch that looks as if it hasn't even been touched faces an unlit brick fireplace. There are shelves surrounding the room with little shiny trinkets and dusty looking books.

The stranger guides you to the couch, motioning for you to sit. Expecting him to sit beside you, you move over to the far side to give him some room. But he remains standing.

"Go on then. Plead your case."

"Plead my...? Excuse me? What's your problem?" Anger flickers deep within your stomach, rising up quickly. You lean forward to look closer at him, your eyebrows knitted firmly together.

"You clearly want something from me. Go on now. Just spit it out and we can get this over with. If it's too boring I'll probably say no. If it's too intense...I'll probably say no. Just get it out there and if it's interesting maybe we can work something out. Go on. You're wasting my time." He walks closer to you and sits on the coffee table, now a little too close to your person. He leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees, lowering himself to your eye level. He smiles and juts his head to one side, making you want to push him away even more.

"I wanted to ask you about warlock stuff," you say through gritted teeth.

"Adorable! Go read a book on warlocks." He stands up and turns away from you, waving his hand lazily. You stare after him, completely flabbergasted as he walks into the other room. For a moment, you remain on the couch. Should you leave? No. You’ve traveled far too long and endured too much to just give up now. Plus, it’s not like you have a home to go back to. So, instead of sitting there like a useless fool, you stand up and follow him.

The warlock is in his kitchen, leaning over the island and munching on a red apple. He smiles at you quickly with cheeks full before going back to chewing.

After swallowing, he looks at his half eaten apple as if debating on taking another bite or not. “I take it you’re not going to go read a book then?”

“No,” you say flatly. “I came all this way to talk to you specifically.” You keep your voice steady and present yourself as someone who won’t back down easily.

He sighs and takes another bite. “Fine!” Juice dribbles down the sides of his mouth. “Fire away.” He makes a finger gun and fires at you.

Not expecting him to give in so easily, you panic and your brain turns to mush. All the questions you had planned to ask, everything you had prepared, gone. You reach back and scratch the back of your neck, hoping that’ll jog your memory.

"So, uh, how long have you been doing the whole wizarding thing?"

“Wizarding thing? I-" he scoffs, eyes widening for a moment before he shakes his head and walks around the island until he’s invading your personal bubble yet again, jutting a finger into your face. “Let’s get one thing very clear. I am not a wizard. I am not a sorcerer. I am a warlock and you’re pretty damn lucky I’m a nice one too. If you would have called anyone else a fucking wizard they would have sent you to the demon realm faster than you can blink. The only reason why I even brought you into my home was because you somehow managed to slip through my glamour and that is not an easy thing to do.” He tuts and shakes his head.

“I’m-I...I’m sorry? I’m still new to all of this and-...wait. There’s more of you?”

“If there were more of me, sweetheart, the world would most likely implode. But I’m assuming you meant are there more warlocks like me-like us.” He quickly corrects himself and picks up an object from one of his shelves, wincing as he does so. It appears to be a black rock that’s had its sides smoothed and rounded. He twirls the rock in his hand, mulling it over apathetically. “Yes,” he mutters. “There are others.” He stares into the rock more closely. His earlier apathy and sarcastic aura has gone away. He now looks at the object as one would look at an old photograph of their childhood home now demolished into something unrecognizable.

“Wait, how did you know that I’m-?”

“Part warlock?” He interjects. “And yes, you’re a warlock not a witch. I don’t know who started that whole thing- anyways.” He cuts himself off. “Well, for starters, if you were fully human you wouldn’t have been able to find me in the first place.” He gestures around the room vaguely with the rock still in one hand. “This whole place is protected by magic.”

“Why?” You ask.

“I hate door to door salesmen.”

Ignoring his lame attempt at comedic sarcasm, you continue, "So...what you're telling me...is that the whole 'does he deserve you?' thing was all a joke?" Your voice raises near the end of your sentence, your anger getting the best of you. Turning away from the warlock, you pinch the bridge of your nose and take a deep breath to regain your composure.

"Well.” He places the rock back on the shelf and saunters closer, making you back up against the doorframe. He puts his palm against the door, right by your face and leans in further, his voice low and melodic. "Are you deserving of me?"

"No, no, no. She said are you deserving of me," you huff and push him away lightly. You hate the way your heart started to pound the closer he got. And hate the way you almost expected him to kiss you.

"I’m assuming you ran into that old bags Miana. Don't listen to her. She's clinically insane and thinks she belongs in the magic world and is my own personal secretary or something. Oh, and also." He smiles as he walks over to the dinner table and tosses a bright red apple at you and takes a large bite out of his own. "Don't let the whole warlock charm get to you that easily. Make it fun for me at least."

It's like you hit a brick wall. Your eyes widen and your mouth drops open as you brainlessly catch the apple with both hands. Did he make you want to kiss him with magic? Did he make your heart rate increase?

He sighs and leans against the table, now facing you. He takes another bite of the apple and rolls his eyes. "I'm not a faerie, don't worry. I can't use my magical tricks to make you fall in love with me."

Your shoulders relax and you let yourself breathe again.

"Damn, don't look too relieved." He pouts.

"I have every right to throw this apple at you," you taunt.

"Do it." He juts his chin forward and raises his eyebrows as he says it with a nice bright smile to finish it off. You swallow what might as well have been that rock he was looking at earlier.

You let out an annoyed breath and turn away from him, taking an angry bite out of the apple out of spite.

“So, do you have a name or am I just supposed to call you Sir Warlock or something?”

“Oh ho, Sir?” It looks like he’s about to say something more but he laughs before he can get the words out. He continues laughing until tears start to escape the corners of his eyes. You stare at him, annoyed that you’re not in on whatever it is that’s making him laugh so hard.

“Okay. What’s so funny?”

“Nothing.” He exhales loudly, wiping the edges of his eyes with his fingers. “Let’s just say...sir is an old...nickname I used to have and completely forgot about.” When he sees you staring at him with a confused stare he pokes his tongue out and bites down, leaning in close to your ear and whispers, “In the bedroom.”

You feel it. All the color leaving your face. It’s like it’s slowly being drained from top to bottom. After all the color is gone, the blood slowly gets pumped back into your face, which feels as if it’s burning and your breaths come out as gasps. This should not be turning you on right now. He is a stranger and you don’t even know his name-

“But you can call me Seokjin.”

“I’m, Y/N.” You smile nervously, avoiding his gaze.

“Great! Now that we’ve been properly introduced, let’s have a meal and we can get to talking.” Seokjin claps his hands and heads to the fridge to take out some leftovers. After getting everything ready, he sets two bowls of dumplings down on the table.

“So, what’s your story then, Y/N? Why did you travel so far to find me?” Seokjin dives into his food, his tone light and curious. The atmosphere has drastically changed since you first arrived. Seokjin appears to be more relaxed and, in all honesty, you feel more relaxed too.

“Well.” You try to chew faster, swallowing your food much too early causing you to gag slightly. Thankfully, Seokjin doesn’t notice. Or, at least, pretends he didn’t. “I came home from school one day to find my parent’s house completely trashed.” You set your fork down by your bowl, gazing deeply into your dumplings. Only, you’re not exactly staring at them. Instead you see the memories of that day as clear as if they were happening right before you once again. “It was clearly a break-in,” you sigh. You can feel Seokjin’s gaze on you, but your eyes remain glued to your food. “I went upstairs to see if they were home. All I saw was their bed had been sliced apart, everything from their closet was scattered on the floor...it was bad. I ran back downstairs to the kitchen and-” your voice cracks then. Taking a few deep breaths to compose yourself, you’re thankful that Seokjin hasn’t tried to say anything to comfort you. He patiently waits for you to continue when you’re ready.

“I found them on the kitchen floor.” You raise your head up and look at your new friend. Wordlessly, he reaches his hand across the table and wraps it over your clenched fist. His hand is warm and a tingling sensations raises from your hand and all the way up your arm. You no longer feel like you’re about to cry and the burdening weight has been lifted from your chest. Your shoulders relax and you look at Seokjin questionably. He gives a short smile, looking away from you.

“It’s an anxiety spell. Thought it would help a little.”

Warmth flutters into your chest as you stare at his hand on top of your own. “It does,” you say.

“So you’re here because you need my help to avenge your parents?” The idea of helping you no longer seems to be annoying to him. He asks this with sincerity and empathy. Although it’s nice and reassuring, it’s not why you came here.

“No. The police found my parents murderer the next day. Their death is not what brought me here.”

He raises an eyebrow, clearly confused.

“I’m here because there was a note in my father’s hand. I think he wrote it before he...died. That’s when I found out they weren’t my real parents. And that’s how I knew to find you.” You pause to take a sip of water, relishing how the cold calms your dry throat.

Setting the glass back down, you look at Seokjin’s hand from your peripheral vision. It’s still wrapped around yours.

A deep insecure thought swarms your mind, one that you’d normally push away and ignore. But something tells you that Seokjin might be just the person who would understand.

“My whole life.” You start out slowly. “I always felt as though I didn’t fit in. There was always something off, something missing. And now I know that basically my whole identity was hidden from me. If you’d have me, I’d love to practice under you. If you could teach me about your world, our world…I think it’s what my dad wanted for me. I think he knew how much I was struggling with myself. I’ll do anything you need me to do. I’ll do all the cleaning and chores...just anything to learn about who I am.”

Seokjin removes his hand from yours and the panic immediately comes back. He doesn’t need anyone to do chores for him! He’s got magic for that!

Seokjin clasps his hands together and looks to his right, towards the window. The trees are dancing in the wind, birds soaring around like little kites. They move with the wind, letting it guide them wherever it pleases.

You push your chair back and stand up, the sound of the legs of the chair against the hardwood floor making you cringe.

“I’m sorry if I overstepped. I understand it’s a lot for me to ask. You barely know me. If you don’t wish to take me on as your apprentice I will search for another teacher.” It takes everything within your willpower to keep your bottom lip from quivering. Seokjin stares at you with shock. Silently, he stands and comes over to you. This is the part where he wordlessly points to the door, you think. Where you have to leave with your tail tucked between your legs. You’ll never be able to scrub off this shame and embarrassment for the rest of your life.

Sparing him, you turn to leave on your own. You manage to take two steps before he grabs your wrist, his grip tight.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

You turn back to look at him, trying to keep the tears out of your eyes.

“We have about six hundred years of material to go over. If you want to learn anything we’ll have to get started right away.” Finally, a smile breaks out onto his face. And how could you not smile in return?

Then, a thought dawns on you. “Where will I stay?”

“With me, of course,” Seokjin assures without missing a beat. With his hand still wrapped tightly around your wrist, he guides you to the stairwell. He motions for you to go ahead of him and with your hand hovering lightly over the banister, you do so.

“Are you sure about this? I don’t want to overstep.” The thought of staying in the same house with a warlock as gorgeous as him sends a bolt of electricity throughout your body. What have you gotten yourself into?

“Don’t worry about it. I have plenty of room here anyways. And it’ll be more convenient to have you close so we can get enough training done.” He stops in front of one door in the dark hallway. He places a hand on the knob but hesitates.

“Hey, um. About earlier.” Seokjin raises a hand and rubs the back of his neck, his fingertips brushing the ends of his black wavy hair. “I was rude when we first met. I’m just so used to people bugging me all the time and trying to use me like I’m some dispensable miracle worker. I’m kind of excited to be working with you. It’s been a while since I’ve been around another warlock.”

You smile, taking the compliment more to heart than you probably should.

“Half warlock.” You remind him. He laughs and opens the door to your new bedroom.

You’re panting loudly, clutching at your knees and leaning forward to try to get some oxygen back into your lungs. Sweat races from your temple down to the edge of your jawline, dripping onto the matted flooring. A couple of months ago when you had first started training with Seokjin, you would have been embarrassed for him to see you like this. It was undeniable from the beginning; you have a crush on him. So, of course, being sweaty and gross looking isn’t ideal. But all of those worries and insecurities flew out the window after you realized that you were focusing on the wrong thing. One, you’re here for yourself and to learn more about who you are as a half warlock. And two, the way to impress this warlock was through magic and you’ll be damned if you aren’t going to crush everything he throws at you.

“Good.” Seokjin paces in front of you. “You caught on to that one rather quickly.” He turns his back to you, his hands clasped firmly behind him. You stare down at your bare feet, hoping that you’ll be able to sit down soon. The muscle at the arch of your foot is twitching and tightening with pain and you’re not sure how much more you can take. You’ve been practicing for hours now and haven’t had a break since breakfast.

Suddenly, something twinges in the back of your mind and your head whips up, looking straight ahead. Hovering not even two centimeters away from your right eye is the sharp blade of a small throwing knife. Your heart rate increases, your chest rising and falling more harshly than before as you allow your focus to contract, letting the knife fall on the ground in front of you.

“Very good!” Seokjin claps his hands and rushes towards you. Grasping your shoulders tightly, he gives you a light shake. His smile is contagious and you smile in return before letting your body fall to the floor. You cross your legs and rotate your neck in circles, feeling the pleasurable cracks as you do so.

“Please, no more surprises. The next knife you throw might actually end up in my eye.” You rub your forehead in lazy circles.

Seokjin joins you on the floor and places a white towel on your lap. You pick it up and dab away the pools of sweat surrounding your body.

“I’ve never seen a warlock do that so quickly into their training.” He beams. “I must be a good teacher.”

“I got lucky.” You correct him. “I know all your tricks now.”

“Nope!” His smile is so broad it must be hurting his face at this point. “I threw that with magic. Only very advanced warlocks could catch a knife like that. And even more advanced warlocks can sense that knife was even thrown in the first place. You’re ready for the next step!”

You groan and lay back on your back, throwing your arm over your eyes to protect them from the light above. Every muscle in your body feels heavy, which is funny because your training strictly involves mental work. At this point, your brain might as well just be a bowl of mashed potatoes.

Seokjin moves and you slide your arm up to your forehead so you can watch what he does. He walks over to the other side of the room towards the cubbys that holds your shoes and water. He picks up something you can’t quite make out. You sit up and squint your eyes to try to see better.

“Whatcha doing?” You ask, finally giving up on being sneaky.

“Huh? Oh, sorry, I thought you might have fallen asleep.” Seokjin sets down what you now see is a black rock.

“Is that the same rock thing you bring into every room?”

Seokjin freezes for a moment, his hand still hovering over the object.

“It’s...not a rock.” He hesitates.

“Then...what is it? It has to be important since you carry it around with you.” You see pain flicker in Seokjin’s eyes and you force yourself to stop talking. There is definitely something special about this object and it’s clear he’s struggling to decide if he should tell you or not.

You stand up and walk over to him. You place a gentle hand on his arm to try to get his attention away from the object. There’s something sentimental about it, and yet…

“It brings you pain. Why?”

Seokjin looks at you quickly, surprised at your words for some reason. His eyes shake back and forth, unfocusing and his mouth hangs open slightly. He looks away from you and bows his head back down. Some of his bangs look like they're painfully poking his eyes but he makes no motion to move them. All you want is to reach up and move them away for him, to care for him, but instead, you remain where you are.

“This,” he says slowly and, apparently, painfully. His chest rises and falls in an adante fashion. “This is an orb. From my home realm.”

“I thought most warlocks were born on earth?”

“Yes. I was the first to be born in a demon realm. Uhm.” He pauses and the way he takes in another deep breath pulls on your heart.

“I’m sorry this is not something I have told anyone before.” He admits.

You sit down on the floor once again, pulling on his hand for him to follow you. The orb rests above in its cubby.

“You know you don’t have to tell me anything you’re not comfortable with. It’s your story and I can see there’s some deep hurt relating to this. But I’m here for you and I don’t want you to go through this pain alone.” You reluctantly let go of his hand as he sits down across from you. Both of your knees touch, but you miss the feeling of his hand in yours.

Seokjin is looking down in his lap, lost in thought. You sit there, patiently in silence, waiting for him to talk next.

After a few more moments, he looks back up at you. "It is not uncommon for women to die when giving birth to warlocks." He starts slowly. "So, it's really no surprise that my mother died while giving birth to me." Seokjin looks back down at his hands in his lap, his eyes glossing over as if he was reliving these moments. "My father loved my mother. Or so I've been told," he chuckles and shakes his head, glancing up towards the orb. "I personally don't think demons are capable of love. But he swore on the devil himself that he would have done anything to save her. That's why she was in the demon realm when she gave birth to me. My father thought that having her there would somehow change things. Amongst his colleagues, he thought that they could save her." Seokjin starts to scratch at the tips of his fingers, a nervous habit you recognize. Going against what your mind is screaming at you not to do, you reach forward and take his hand in yours. Rubbing soothing circles with your thumb, you focus your energy towards him like how he trained you to do.

"Thank you," he whispers, squeezing your hand. "It's so weird. I'm older than dirt but I still have a hard time talking about my feelings."

"It's because you're a man." You say quickly and as soon as the words are out of your mouth, you're afraid you've made a joke in the wrong atmosphere.

Seokjin stares at you before he bursts out laughing.

In this moment, time slows. Your eyes close and you feel your body rock with laughter. You lean into Seokjin and he leans into you. Your head rests on his shoulder and you clutch his arm for support. The overwhelming feeling of comfort you feel with Seokjin runs rapidly through your veins until you feel it deep within your heart: You would do anything for him.

Seokjin pushes himself off of you, but keeps his face close to yours with one of his hands resting on your thigh. There's a mystical look in his eyes and for a moment you think that maybe, just maybe, he feels the same way you do.

Your heart flutters with the feeling that he might kiss you and all you can think is, yes. I'm ready.

As you're about to close your eyes and lean in to him, Seokjin clears his throat and looks away from you. Your heart plummets to your stomach and sits there, waiting to be digested.

"My father gave me this orb,” he continues. “Right before I was cast out from my home realm. I was about ten years old at that point. He even named it for me." Seokjin laughs but there's some sarcasm resting deep in there along with pain.

"Ex Nihilo," he spits out the words. He props one knee up and rests his arm upon it, putting his weight on his other hand that's resting against the ground behind him, his body now open towards yours. Seokjin’s looking off into the distance. You rest your hands in your lap and stare at him with wonder. It's difficult to sympathize with him and trying to calculate what to say is getting hard. You want to know what happened with him, but at the same time, you don't want to pressure him.

"Seeing as you've only just begun your Latin classes I'm guessing you don't know what that means." He smiles halfheartedly. "Basically it was father's cruel joke to remind me that I am nothing. I was made of nothing and I will always be...nothing." He pauses and you have the feeling that you should say something. But he continues before you get the chance to decide.

"I feel as though its name has changed though. Right before you arrived I was actually trying to inspect it."

"Can it do that? Change its own name?" You ask.

"It's a magical object after all. I wouldn't look past it." He shrugs. The orb is perfectly within his peripheral vision. Seokjin continues to look forward.

"What's its name now?"

"Mea culpa." He laughs.

"'My fault,'" you recite in a whisper. "Seokjin. Whatever happened to your mother, it is most definitely not your fault. You were a baby. You had no control over that. This might be a no shit thing to say but your father is a demon and his only agenda was to make you feel worthless because he couldn’t get what he wanted. You’ve taught me yourself. Demons are selfish, cunning, and heartless. Why would your father be any different?"

"Thank you, Y/N." Without much warning, Seokjin takes your hand in his and examines it. Goosebumps erupt over your body and each part of your skin that connects with his feels electric.

"I don't know if I'll ever believe that. But I'm trying."

"Sometimes that's all we can do."

The morning sun rises the next day before Seokjin can even peel himself out of his sulfuric smelling clothes. Asmodeus really did have a unique smell of his own.

Seokjin sighs and changes quickly, wanting to be one of the first people at the market when it opens.

Fumbling with his shirt buttons, he gets through half of them before realizing he has put his shirt on inside out. Seokjin’s head pounds as he tries to focus, the lack of sleep clearly catching up to him. Trying to shake it off, he goes into the bathroom and splashes cold water onto his face before heading out the door.

Seokjin's leisure stroll is interrupted by the sudden chaos that greets him as he reaches the main street of Daemur. People everywhere are screaming, not in pain, but in anguish. More than a handful of people are leaning against objects or buildings, clutching their stomachs as they vomit. Others are moaning as they sway back and forth, the focus and light completely gone from their eyes. Something about this sudden heatwave is affecting the people not just physically, but mentally as well. Normally his magic helps keep the town nice and cool despite being in the middle of the desert. But something has changed. Seokjin can't deny the pull on his own sanity. It tickles in the back of his brain like a loose hair stuck inside his shirt.

As he approaches the market area, Seokjin jumps out of the way of a human male who’s shirt has caught fire. A woman, also human, runs after him, with a flaming torch raised high above her head.

“Sleeping with another woman!” She shrills. “After all we’ve been through together!”

The man continues to scream and drops down to the dusty ground and rolls around doing his best to put out the fire.

The man rises to his knees after the fire has been extinguished, panting heavily as he tries to regain his breath. Soot is smeared across his face and a good chunk of his hair has been singed off. The shirt he's wearing looks as if one touch will make it crumple off of his body. “I swear, my love! I don’t know what happened! It was as if I was possessed! One minute I was talking to the trader and the next I was suddenly in love with her! It was like magic possessed me, I swear! I don't even remember having sex with her!”

Like magic. Huh.

Seokjin continues on, leaving the couple and ignoring the unsettling feeling forming in the pit of his stomach.

He walks over to a cart and inspects some of the vegetables and expects the cart merchant to greet him as he always does. But he’s nowhere in sight.

Something strange is going on indeed.

Conjuring up that spell couldn’t have had anything to do with this…could it?

Abandoning the produce, Seokjin hurries home to make sure you're okay.

"Y/N!" Seokjin calls out as he enters the home. "They were, uh, out of cabbage!" He quickly, and poorly, lies.

"I don't remember asking for cabbage."

The sultry tone of your voice hidden upstairs throws Seokjin off guard and makes him stop in his place. That's not how you normally talk. Seokjin's afraid to admit it, but it sounds like you're trying to be...seductive?

"Are-are you okay?" He calls up from the bottom of the staircase.

Soft and even footsteps come towards him. His heart rate quickens and for the first time in a couple hundred years, Seokjin is truly nervous.

He watches as your fingertips touch the banister lightly as you descend the stairs. Seokjin closes his eyes and imagines that it's his arm your finger is trailing down. That thought alone is euphoric.

He opens his eyes and finally gets a good look at you. And what he sees is truly mouthwatering. You're wearing a black lingerie set with matching robe hanging loosely off your body. Seokjin licks his lips eagerly.

The spell worked!

You stop on the last step so that you're a good few inches taller than he is. Seokjin cranes his head slightly to look up at you and with every piece of willpower he can harness, he tries to keep the excitement out of his face. And his pants.

You reach out and trace along his jawline and, once again, it takes everything in Seokjin to contain himself. There's fire within your touch and it causes his entire body to burst into metaphorical flames.

There's a momentarily dazed look in your eyes, as if you're zoning in on something far away. As quick as it came, it's gone and you're pulling Seokjin's chin up towards you where you kiss him hungrily. It's not exactly how Seokjin had dreamt his first kiss with you would go. Where he expected slow and gentleness, this was fast and intense. Power surges through his lips as he fights for dominance but you’ve quickly taken control. Your arms wrap around his shoulders and a moan escapes his lips as you tug on the ends of his hair by the nape of his neck. Intrigued, Seokjin moves his hands beneath your robe and wraps his arms around your waist. He clings to your soft skin, letting his nails drag lazily over each individual rib. You sigh against his mouth, arching your back as you cling to him.

Panting heavily, Seokjin breaks his lips away from yours. "I've been waiting so long for this. You have no ide-"

"Shut up I don't care. I need you right now," you growl and throw yourself back onto him. The sudden impact of your body against his causes Seokjin to stumble backwards. You lose your footing and almost slip off the step.

The loss of balance jumbles some fogginess in Seokjin's brain that he didn't realize was there. Clarity comes forth as he looks back at you and realizes something isn't right.

Then it clicks. The couple in town, the sick, that far away look in your eyes...

"Y/n, hey, snap out of it. Something weird is going on. This isn't you." He holds you at your biceps and a low whine leaves your lips. Your hair spools onto your face, covering your eyes and getting into your mouth, but it looks like it's not bothering you one bit. You smile devilishly with your teeth showing, sliding your tongue slowly across the tops of your teeth.

"I know you want me," you chuckle out a purr, your hands begin to roam across his chest in a hypnotic pattern. "I know how much you want me to suck your big fat cock and-"

"Okay! Nope! We are stopping this right now!" Seokjin manages to pull himself completely out of the fog and cuts you off and, meaning no real harm, pushes you away from him. He hates how hard it is to do so. He can feel his cock twitching inside his pants and he has to take a moment to recollect himself.

You stumble back on the stairs, losing your balance and landing firmly on your butt. Seokjin closes his eyes tightly and gathers all of his strength to remember a spell, any spell, that could help him in this moment.

Seokjin opens his eyes suddenly and thrusts his closed fist in your direction. "Deditionem!" he yells as he opens his hand so that his palm faces you.

Trembling, your head turns to the ceiling, your neck stretching and constricting in a painful-looking manner. When you look back at him, the glossy look is gone from your eyes. His shoulders relax and he rushes to you.

"Seokjin? What happened?" you wonder.

As he's holding you, he hits a mental brick wall. An idea formulates quickly in his head but it can't possibly be true. That damned demon couldn't have tricked him...or could he? Was Seokjin not clear enough when he said he needed a love potion?

"Don't worry. I think you're just dehydrated from all the training. Magic has weird ways of messing with your brain. Doesn’t help that it’s been abnormally humid outside as well." He stands you up and covers you up with the robe you're wearing, tying a tight bow across your stomach. He sees your eyes widen, a slight gasp to go with it, as you realize what you're wearing. Neither of you acknowledge it as you cross your arms firmly against your chest.

Walking you to the kitchen, Seokjin sits you down on a stool and goes to get you a glass of water. As he's sliding the cup across the kitchen island, his heart feels as if someone is gripping it tightly, squeezing it until it's suffocating. You're not looking at him and he's terrified that things have changed drastically between you.

After a few long, agonizing moments of silence pass with you gingerly sipping on your water, Seokjin breaks the silence.

"I felt it too."

Your eyebrows furrow as you glance in his direction. "Felt what?"

"That weird...I don't know something weird with my brain. It was like someone put a damp blanket over it. All of a sudden my thoughts were clouded and everything seemed confusing. And...to be perfectly blunt here...I got really horny?"

You had just taken another sip of your water, but it doesn't stay in your mouth long as you practically inhale it with surprise. You cough loudly, pounding your fist against your chest to try to get the remaining droplets out of the wrong tube and down the right one. Seokjin wants to come over and rub your back to help except the timing just didn't feel quite right for him to touch you.

"Well." You try to speak but just end up coughing more. "Thank you for your honesty. Really wasn't expecting that kind of answer." You laugh and swivel your body to face him,  

Seokjin presses his lips firmly together before erupting with laughter. Both of your heads lean in with one another, letting the stress of the moment lift from your bodies as you continue to giggle it out. Tears prick the corners of Seokjin's eyes and his ribs start to get increasingly painful with each chuckle.

“If you feel that weird haze coming back over you, remember to concentrate and center yourself. Weird stuff is going on in the town and it’s affecting the humans a little bit more intensely than us.” Seokjin looks at you with deep concern. You’re slouching, putting all of your weight on to the counter. Your eyes flicker, trying to remain open but wanting so desperately to close.

“Let’s get you to bed,” he whispers. You lift your arms out towards him and his heart beats harder in his chest than when he saw you practically naked. Seokjin’s fingers feel tingly as he wraps his arms around your body and lifts you up. He carries you to your room and is about to set you on the bed when you pipe up.

“Stay with me.” Your voice is lower than a whisper, but he hears you loud and clear.

Seokjin sits down with his back against the headboard, his arms still wrapped tightly around your sleeping form. Your head is resting perfectly against his chest, right over his heart.

The next morning Seokjin is enthusiastically bustling around in the kitchen preparing different platters. Under his breath, he hums an upbeat tune. It would be endearing if it hadn't woken you up from a deep sleep. Your were having a weird dream that involved you very confidently confessing your attraction to Seokjin. Waking up had you feeling confused on so many levels. The dream felt so real and you could have sworn Seokjin had stayed with you last night.

"What's up?" You mumble, rubbing your knuckles across the tops of your eyelids.

“Hey!” Seokjin smiles brightly at you, giving you zero clues to if anything abnormal had happened last night. “How did you sleep?”

“Okay, I guess. I think I had a weird dream and...now that I think of it...I don’t remember much from last night?”

Seokjin turns his back to you and continues cooking. “Oh...haha...that’s weird! It must be from the heat!”

“Yeah.” You rub your forehead. “Must be.”

"Well, I have exciting news!" Seokjin turns around and smiles at you before continuing to season what looks to be eggs. There's a small flame flickering mid air as his pan floats above it. Seokjin looks at it and twirls his finger at it, causing the pan to shuffle the eggs around.

"Gotta love magic." He winks.

You sit down at the table and yawn. "What's the news?"

"We're going to throw you an Ad Aetetem!"

"An adda what?"

"Ad Aetetem!" Jubilantly he sits down next to you and pats his hands on your knees. "It's a warlock tradition! When a warlock comes of age, we throw an Ad Aetetem to properly introduce them to the world. It's a very big celebration, very important to our culture. We can invite the whole town! We can dance, feast, and everyone can get to know you."

You're not gonna lie. His excitement is a little too much to handle this early in the morning. Normally, you wouldn't care about a formal party such as this, but that youthful flicker in Seokjin's eyes is contagious. A smile creeps up on your face. It would be kind of nice to have a party thrown in your honor.

"Okay." Chuckling, you look down at your lap before looking back at him. "Let's do it."

The following weeks, all you discussed was your Ad Aetetem. From the colors to the food to the music, Seokjin made sure everything would be perfect for you. All of this attentive pampering definitely did not help you extinguish the little crush you had on him. No matter how hard you tried, you just couldn't seem to distance your feelings for him.

Over the next couple of weeks, Seokjin passionately invests himself in teaching you the remaining little tidbits of what will be expected at you Ad Aetetem, from the dances that will be performed down to the dress you’ll wear.

“Don’t worry too much about it all. I’ll be right there with you. There won’t be other warlocks since there aren’t any who live nearby, so a lot of these traditions can’t be completed like the group magic dance.” He’s talking a little faster than normal, flipping through pages of an old book to show you different drawings of other coming of age ceremonies.

“What other creatures will be there?” In the handful of months you’ve spent in Daemur, you haven’t actually come across another magic creature. Seokjin had told you that the other creatures don’t like to mingle that often and reside themselves in neighboring areas, but you’ve always been curious to meet them.

“Uh, let’s see, merpeople can’t...for...obvious reasons. But I’ve gotten RSVP’s from werewolves and vampires. Some humans will be there as well. I sent out invitations to the faeries but...I don’t think any of them will be coming.” “Why not?” You ask curiously.

“The faeries and I have a history.” He licks his lips nervously and focuses on the book he’s holding. “And the townspeople suspect the faeries have something to do with this heat and everyone acting crazy.” “Oh. I see. What do you think?”

“I, uh, I’m not sure. They’re tricky creatures. Very easy to fall into their traps. But don’t worry.” He smiles and closes the book. “They’re very smart and can fend for themselves. I keep my distance from them.” He articulates slowly.

You spend the rest of the day finalizing the plans with one another, but that quickly turned into the two of you just talking long into the night about everything and nothing all the same.

You pace back and forth in your room, your dress feeling more constricting against your ribcage as the seconds go by. Pressing your fingers to your lips, you try to focus. It's just a party! No big deal! Well, except it's a party for you and people are here for you and you'll need to talk to all of these people- shit wait. Some of them aren't even people!

Little by little, you're giving yourself a headache and wondering why all of this is even necessary.

A few more anxiously drawn out minutes go by before Seokjin's head pokes through the door, a large smile on his face as he greets you.

"You ready to get this thing going-? Oh no." He rushes in and stands before you. "Y/N. What's wrong?"

You wish he'd take your hands, that way they'd be out of your face. You can't seem to move them elsewhere, though. Instead of gnawing on your fingernails you resort to worrying away the inside of your cheek.

"Don't worry about them. They're here to celebrate you. It's really important in our culture when a warlock comes of age. I want you to be able to experience it."

"You said that they usually come of age at like...eight. I'm twenty-three."

"Better late than never! Also, look at it this way. Normal warlocks take eight years to master their basic spells, thus coming of age. You've been here only a few months, no prior training and barely any knowledge of the magic world. You've surpassed them all by far." Seokjin grasps your shoulders and gives you a slight shake, smiling down at you. "Give yourself more credit."

His words make you want to cry with how sincere they are. Seokjin may be all jokes ninety-eight percent of the time, but in moments like these, he really comes through for you.

You straighten your shoulders and lift your head up higher, allowing yourself to smile back at him.

"There she is!" He chuckles and holds out his elbow to you. You take it gladly and let him walk you out. "There's my girl," he says softer and opens the door.

The sound of cheers, clapping, laughter, and dancing footsteps can all be heard at your Ad Aetetem. Versatile colors splash across the dance floor as people move to and fro. Long tables sit against the walls with an assortment of fish and chicken, complemented by an array of fruit and vegetable platters. Another table holds an Ad Aetetem tradition of drinks mixed with spells to keep the party alive. Fan favorites include a truth serum, hair color change, cup of laughter, and one that makes you sneeze bubbles, amongst others. Seokjin warned you beforehand to not drink any of the drinks that were darker in color because those are the ones that tended to have the most consequences. An orchestrated band is playing on the stairwell as people continue to dance before them. Bright and shiny new chandeliers hang high above, casting rays of yellow.

A fair amount of people showed up, a couple hundred or so. You were not aware that many people even lived around this area. You’re happy to see that the vampires and werewolves are mingling happily with one another and the attending humans.

The party had started half an hour before you made your appearance, as per tradition. Seokjin made a beautiful introductory speech as you descended the stairs, greeting everyone with a smile.

You did your best to talk to as many people as possible, all you really wanted, though, was to dance with Seokjin.

You notice very quickly that Seokjin is popular amongst the majority of the crowd.

As Seokjin gets pulled in several different directions by those pining after his attention, someone else approaches you.

“Hi,” a sheepish voice behind you calls. “My name is Shinwon. Do you want to dance?” You turn to see a tall curly haired handsome man smiling down at you with soft eyes.

“I would love to!” You take his hand and he leads you to the dance floor. You quickly look around to see if you can spot Seokjin, but to no avail.

You learn that Shinwon is a werewolf who has recently joined a neighboring pack. It takes a bit to get him out of his shell, but a few jokes here and there have him laughing in no time.

“Thank you for inviting me to your party, Y/N.” His voice is soft and calming as he talks.

“I’m glad you came. It means a lot to me.”

Shinwon lifts his arm up to twirl you and then pulls you against his chest.

“Your dress is very pretty, by the way. Lilac really suits you.”

Biting your lip nervously, you try to contain your smile. Is he flirting with you?

You’re about to respond to him when you look up and see Seokjin staring at the two of you with two cups in his hands.. His eyes are slightly widened as well as his mouth. Before you can say anything, he dashes out of sight.

“Excuse me, Shinwon. I have to go find someone.” You break from Shinwon’s embrace and leave the dancefloor.

You look around for Seokjin for a few minutes before you find him standing against the wall with a man you’ve never met before, but they appear to be close friends. They laugh with drinks in their hands talking about who knows what. You walk over to them when something the other man says pricks your ears.

“So, you gotta tell me, now that you’ve had some of that truth concoction, did you have anything to do with this weird heatwave or was it the faeries like everyone else is saying?”

Seokjin laughs and slaps the guys shoulder. “That’s not fair...you know I can’t lie...it was me though. A mistake! But me nonetheless…” He sways in a drunken like state.

“Buddy! What happened?” They both laugh.

“I tried to make her love me by using something I got from a demon, but I guess he tricked me!” Seokjin laughs softer now and shakes his head.

You stand frozen in place, utterly confused at what Seokjin has just admitted.

He wouldn’t...he wouldn’t...

“I’m in love with her,” he sighs.

That’s it, you’ve had enough. You march over to them and grab Seokjin by the front of his shirt and drag him away from his friend and out of the ballroom. You walk briskly up the stairs until you reach your bedroom, closing the door behind you as you turn to face Seokjin.

“Hey!” He yells at you and you release him from your grasp. “What gives?”

“You tried to curse me into loving you,” you accuse flatly.

“I-.” He pauses and swears under his breath, realizing he’s been caught. “Well, don’t say it like that!” He groans. Seokjin distraughtly places his hands against his cheeks and shakes his head vigorously. Very slowly he slides his hands downward, still pressed to his face, causing his skin to squish and slide humorously until the ends of his palms meet and he’s standing there in a prayer pose. “I tried to-”

“You used a curse to make me love you, but it didn’t work and that’s why I threw myself at you that one day.” You interrupted, all the pieces finally connecting with one another. "I thought that had been a dream but it all makes sense now. You even said when we first met that warlocks can't make people fall in love with them and yet you still tried this-"

“Okay fine!” He throws his hands up in defeat. “I tried to use a spell, not a curse! And it very clearly did not work out in my favor so I apologize.” He courtesies dramatically and it takes everything in you to hold in your laughter. Of course you want to be mad at him for being so stupid, and yet, you can’t help but be thrilled that he feels the same as you.

“Well.” You walk over to Seokjin and reach past his head to grab a dusty old book off it’s shelf. Feeling him tense from the mere implication that you might touch him surged a whole new type of power through your body. You smirk, paying more attention to the book. “That explains why my eggs reeked of sulfur.” You glance at him slyly. His mouth drops open quickly and shuts just as fast. “For someone so old,” you sigh and place the book back. “I’d figure you’d have more experience with the ladies.”

“Hey now, I’m not that old!” He whines.

“You’ve told me before how even you don’t know how long you’ve been alive.”

There’s a long pause where, once again, you try to reign in your laughter as Seokjin scrambles to defend himself.

After a few incomprehensible words and sputtering, Seokjin gives up.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I messed up.” He hangs his head low and covers his eyes with one of his hands.

You try to think of what to say next, your heartbeat punches against your ribcage taking your breath away. Your mind can only settle on one thing.

“I think I know why the spell didn’t work.”

Jin looks down at the ground near his feet.

“-Because I’m incapable of being loved-”

“-Because I’m already in love with you-”

You both say at the exact same time.

Seokjin’s eyes widen and you cover your mouth with shock.

“Jin...you can’t honestly believe that to be true!”

“I’ve lived for how long now? I don’t think I even know anymore. Countless times I’ve had hope. Countless times I believed love was true. Then I met you. And I knew. I knew deep down that love is real. Until I saw you flirting with that werewolf and I rethought everything. And I thought back to everything my father has said to me...”

“I love you.” You blurt out. Seokjin’s eyes widen as he stares at you and you can see that in his heart he still doesn’t believe you.

“I knew there was something special about you from the moment we meant that went beyond your status as a warlock. That werewolf? Shinwon? Yeah he’s nice, but he’s just not you. I don’t want anyone else, Seokjin.” Now you hear your heart beating in your ears, making you feel dizzy. All you want is for him to believe you.

For a moment, you’re afraid that he doesn’t.

Until…

“I’ve wanted to do this since the moment you figured out the mea culpa.”

And that’s when he gives in to the magnetic pull between both of your lips. An electric current hits your lips and travels down throughout your whole body. One of his hands cusps the side of your cheek, his thumb molding perfectly with the curvature of your neck underneath your ear. A deep sigh dances freely out of your lips as Seokjin continues to deepen the kiss.

Not even vampires feel this hungry.

He deepens the kiss further and you feel giddy at how he can't seem to get enough of you, but, neither can you get enough of him.

Both of your hands roam over each others bodies as if searching for something they've been missing for a long time. As Seokjin pulls on your lips, you're pulling on his shoulders, trying to find any way to get your bodies closer to one another.

There's magic within his lips and after all of your training you know he's not doing it on purpose. This is a natural magic, a natural bliss.

No kiss could compare to this one.

Seokjin's tongue swipes against your bottom lip. You gladly part your lips and submit to his tongue, following his lead as you wrap around each other. When you break apart you're left gasping for air. The hungry look hasn't left his eyes and it's clear that he's not finished with you yet.

His hands roam within your hair, almost massaging your scalp.

"You're so beautiful," he moans, his voice raspy. You groan as he tugs on your hair, making your chin tip upward towards the ceiling. Seokjin takes a long lick at your neck, making you shiver within his grasp. He starts slowly nibbling on your neck where he licked you, each love bite sending shots of arousal down to your sex.

All you want is for him to touch you.

Seokjin takes your earlobe between his teeth and that's when you can't hold in your moans any longer.

"You like that?" He groans with your earlobe still caught in his mouth. He bites down harder and pulls slightly. The pain causes you to wince and lean in towards him.

You clutch onto his chest, gripping his shirt within your fingertips.

"Kiss me again," you pant out, barely able to get the words to formulate right. But he understands you perfectly.

This time, he approaches you slowly. Placing both hands on either side of you, he presses his forehead lightly against yours, guiding you back until you're laying down on the bed. Seokjin takes a moment and brushes your hair aside. There's so much love in his eyes as he looks at you and you think that you might cry. The way he carefully brushes your hair away and continues to comb his fingers through your hair is beyond blissful at this point.

No one has ever looked at you like this, as if you were the only thing that mattered.

"I love you," he whispers so slowly it could have been a song. Tears prick the corners of your eyes as you smile up at him.

"All my life," you whisper back. "There has only ever been you." You reach up and grab the collar of his shirt and pull him down to you.

This kiss is slower, more gentle. He molds his lips carefully with yours, drawing them out as long as he can.

One of his hands brushes back the hem of your shirt. His fingers dig into the skin above your hip making you gasp against his mouth. Surely there will be little half moon markings from his nails later. You reach up and weave your fingers into his hair, tugging slightly to see how he responds. He moans into your mouth and sinks his fingers deeper into your skin, moving his hand down along your hip until he reaches your back. You arch with the pain, causing your hips to buck against his crotch.

That was all it took.

Seokjin quickly pushes your shirt up as far as he can. You push him back until you're sitting up and take your shirt off all the way. Seokjin marvels at your chest and it doesn't take long until his hands are cupping your breasts. His fingers graze lazily across your nipple, causing you to shudder in front of him.

Suddenly, he pulls himself off of you.

“Go downstairs and tell everyone the party is over,” he growls, readjusting his shirt and pants. “There’s something I have to do.”

Your face feels warm and flushed as you yourself adjust your own shirt back into place. With magic you re-sinch the strings of your corset and hurry downstairs.

After everyone has left, there's a loud crash from above. You rush up the stairs and open the door to Seokjin’s study to see him surrounded by broken glass. In his hand he's holding the orb his father gave him. Seokjin is hysterically laughing, his hair matted and sticking out in odd directions.

"Jin...what's going on?" You say cautiously.

"It all makes sense! He's the reason why I've been trapped! He's the reason I can't move on. This orb. He's used it to poison my brain."

"Do you mean your father?" You take a few steps into the room, holding out your hands in front of you to keep him from doing anything too drastic.

"Yes my father. He gave me this so that I could torture myself. All my life I grew up carrying this thing around. But no more. Today is the day I end this stupid spell. I don't need his constant reminders. I can't move on until this is destroyed." With that said, Seokjin raises the orb high above his head and throws it down towards the ground. It shatters with a satisfying sound, sprinkling the floor with what looks like diamonds.

After a moment, the shards evaporate into bluish smoke surrounding Seokjin. His eyes widen in panic.

"Fuck. I didn't think about something possibly being inside." He looks around him to make sure none of it touches him.

Bewildered, he looks up towards you, a distraught look in his eyes.

"Y/N!" He yells and dashes towards you. You look around you to see where he was looking at and see that one of the shards slid to your right and the smoke started to cling to you like a bur. Frozen in place, your mind stresses to figure out what to do. There’s a scream in the distance and you’re barely able to recognize it as your own. You don't have long to think before Seokjin crashes into you. You brace for the impact thinking that your back was going to hit harshly against the floor. But, instead, you're hovering in Seokjin's arms.

"I got you. I got you." He says over and over again, cradling your head in one of his arms, his hand firmly pressed against the top of your scalp. He turns his head away from you and blows out with an inhuman amount of force, sending all of the smoke back to the back of the room and away from you both.

To your surprise, nothing more comes of the smoke.

"I think it was meant to kill me if I touched it." Seokjin is staring at the parts of your shirt that have been disintegrated by the smoke.

Suddenly, Seokjin's body stiffens up. His eyes roll to the back of his head and his muscles begin to tremble.

"Seokjin!" You scream as he falls to the ground. You feel a current of power surge around you as he Seokjin remains on the ground. A hauntingly evil voice echoes within the crevices of your mind. No audible words are said, but dark and painful memories resurface to the front of your mind. Squinting your eyes shut and smacking your hands over your ears, you rock back and forth and mumble one of the many chants Seokjin has taught you that's supposed to help keep evil at bay. You repeat it over and over again until the energy finally leaves, making you gasp.

When Seokjin comes to, the first thing he does is wipe the drool from his chin. He sits up slowly, staring at his hands as if he didn’t recognize them.

“It’s over, now. I’m free.” He jumps to his feet and laughs.

“Something does feel different,” you admit. “As if there aren’t anymore clouds in my mind. Everything is so much clearer.”

Seokjin looks at you and smiles. “It’s all thanks to you.” He embraces you, kissing you softly as he pulls you closer.

You accidentally poke your tongue against his bottom lip, but he runs with it. Pushing his tongue into your mouth, you let him overcome you. The kiss quickens and soon enough you’re both panting, desperately grabbing at each other until he can’t take it any longer. Seokjin breaks the kiss to pick you up into his arms and rushes back into your bedroom. He throws you onto your bed and starts taking his clothes off of you.

“I believe we have some unfinished business to attend to.”

Apparently it doesn’t take much to make you come undone.

You strip off your clothes before he’s back on top of you, his mouth attacking yours. You grasp his shoulders tightly, making him groan as your nails sink into his skin.

Seokjin moves off of you and lays on his side while you remain on your stomach. As he continues to kiss you, his hand trails down lower and lower until it reaches your folds. He takes one finger and rubs little circles around your clit, eliciting sweet moans from you. He moves his finger lower until it’s at your entrance and he slowly pushes it inside.

“You’re so wet for me already,” groaning he curls his finger upward to hit your sensitive spot. “You haven’t even gotten my cock yet.”

With that said, you reach your hand over to grasp his hardened member, giving it a few pumps as he continues his ministrations.

“I want you,” you sigh loudly, unable to go a second longer without him filling you up. “I want you inside me, please.”

You don’t have to tell him twice.

He sits up and moves himself between your legs, giving his cock a few pumps before he lines himself up to your entrance. He enters you slowly, the head of his cock throbbing as he pushes himself in deeper. You lean your head back as a loud moan erupts deeply from his chest. He lifts his head towards the ceiling in pleasure. He brings his head back down slowly, his eyes fluttering as he regains his focus on you. His stare alone is sexy. His forehead is already beaded with sweat and a thick strand of his hair is slick with sweat and stuck on his forehead. His panting is borderline animalistic.

“I don’t think I gave you warlock sex education.” Jin pants through his chuckling and smirks at you. Panicking, you assume something grotesque is about to happen and wonder if you should back out. His cock still deep inside you, he leans his head down towards your ear.

You feel his breath tickle the edges of your ear, causing the hair on the back of your neck to stand up as he says, “Our stamina is out of this world.”

That’s when he slides himself almost all the way out of you, only to immediately slam back in. A high pitched gasp leaves your chest and you instinctively reach out to grasp onto his arms that are on either side of your head.

“Stay with me, baby girl.”

You nod your head rapidly, trying to calm down your thoughts, but all you can think about is how good he feels inside of you.

“Use your words now and tell me.” Seokjin leans back slightly and with the gentleness of a dove, he places his hand at the base of your throat. “Does this feel good? Being stuffed full of cock?”

“Yes,” you moan, wishing desperately for him to move.

“Yes, what?” His fingertips drum against the side of your throat one at a time.

“Yes, Seokjin.” You’re barely able to finish saying his name. His hand closes around your throat, choking a gasp out of you.

“If you want to cum tonight you’ll think back to when we first met. Particularly to one specific conversation we had. Now, let’s try this again.” He leans in closer to you until the tips of your noses touch. “Yes, what?”

It doesn’t take you long to realize just exactly the conversation he’s referring to.

“Yes, sir! Yes, sir!” You moan as he thrusts deeply into you and releases your throat at the same time. You gasp for air right as the tip of his cock hits your sensitive spot, eliciting a rugged and broken inhale from your lungs.

“Good girl,” he praises and quickens his pace, continuing to pound you into the mattress. “You look so beautiful, taking my cock so well. Do you want to cum? Huh? Do you think you deserve to cum?”

“Yes, sir, please. Please let me cum.” You cry out.

“Ahh. You’ve been a good girl.” With that said, he presses a finger firmly over your clit before circling the nub. You arch your back and lewdly moan out as he continues his thrusts. The build up happens all too quickly and before you know it, the corners of your eyes become blurry and you’re coming undone.

After you come down from your orgasm, Jin removes his cock from your drenched pussy and stands up off the bed.

“What?-”

“Down.” He snaps his fingers and points down towards his cock. A thick line of your arousal drips from the tip of his head down into the carpet.

“Do not make me tell you again.” He commands.

“Yes, sir.” You immediately scramble off the couch and get down on your knees, grasping his cock with both hands and giving it a couple of pumps before laying the tip on your tongue. The sweet tang of your juices on your tongue is almost too overwhelming, but you don’t dare remove him from your mouth. The taste of your own juices lathering your tongue is an experience you're not quite used to. Just feeling how sweet you taste around his cock sends another burst of arousal throughout your body. With your lips wrapped securely around the tip, you use your tongue to swirl around his shaft, causing a very rewarding moan from Seokjin. You do this a couple more times as you sink your mouth further and further down his cock. As you reach the base of his cock you gently grasp his balls in one hand, squeezing lightly as you let your throat adjust to his length. Seokjin grips his hands tightly on your hair at the scalp of your head. Tears sting your eyes at the pull of his hands, but it’s all pleasure, no pain.

“Fuck are you going to just swallow me whole or start sucking?” Seokjin answers for you by using his hands to guide your head back and forth on his cock while you continue to gently massage his balls.

“Oh yeah, baby. Just like that.” He moans, encouraging you to continue. His cock fits deliciously inside your mouth. His girth alone makes you feel as if you have to put in work. There’s this underlying need to prove your worth and to satisfy him in any, and every, way. Picking up your tempo, you watch as Seokjin comes undone by your movements.

You release his cock from your mouth and slowly swipe your tongue around the tip, causing Seokjin to shiver almost violently. You seize the opportunity and press your tongue firmly on his slit.

"Oh, fuck!" He yells and clutches the top of your head, your hair weaving around his long slender fingers. Shutting your eyes tightly you try to ignore the sting on your scalp and focus on getting him closer to his release.

Right when you think you've got him, he pushes your head back and removes himself from your mouth.

"I need...to ask you...something," he pants heavily, sweat dripping down the side of his forehead and sliding past his temple. Something seemingly unattractive such as sweat has you licking your lips and struggling to breathe.

"Anything," panting out, you watch as he smiles quickly.

"Have a baby with me."

You should be shocked, thrown off guard, arousal evaporated. All of those things would make sense, but what made more sense is him. All you've ever wanted was a family of your own and ever since discovering who your real parents were, you've had this empty looming space within your chest. Warlocks can't have children together. But you're not full warlock now, are you?

"Will it work?" You ask quietly.

"It's worth a shot. I mean, look at you. You’re half warlock. Maybe the human part of you can still conceive.” Seokjin kneels down next to you and cusps your cheek in his hand. “All my life, I've been alone. Now with you, everything feels complete. All my life I've watched others have their own families while I'm stuck here isolated. If we could have our own family..."

You smile, understanding his desire in a way you can't explain.

"Let's do it," you whisper confidently.

Something switches in his eyes and then he's hungrily grabbing at your hips and flips you over so your ass is up and facing him. With one swift motion Seokjin slaps your ass firmly with the palm of his hand, quickly rubbing small circles over the spot instantly after impact.

"I'm going to fill you up so good, baby," he coos and takes his cock and slowly rubs it up and down against your folds.

"Don't tease," you say into the pillow, want and need dripping from your vocal chords. It takes everything in you to resist every urge to buck back against him. The stimulation on your clit is making you see stars in the corners of your vision.

"What's teasing is that empty womb of yours," he grunts and inserts himself back into you. The familiar stretch brings forth a satisfying moan from your lips. He remains still for a moment to let you adjust and to catch his breath. In this moment you wish you could see his face or know what he's thinking exactly. Right now, you're having a hard time forming any coherent thoughts other than 'fuck' and 'this feels good'.

When Seokjin starts to move again there's something sobering about the way he rocks his hips gently, hitting your sweet spot in a sensual manner. You crane your neck to try to get a view of him to see if something's wrong. He continues his slow rhythm, breathing heavily behind you.

"Seokjin?-"

"I want to come like this." He picks up his speed, but does not increase his intensity.

And that's when you feel it, a touch of energy reaching out towards you. You gasp out loud as you realize that he's omitting his thoughts out towards you. No images appear in your mind, yet you know what he's trying to convey; his love for you.

Eyes watering, you feel yourself beginning to uncoil once more. Seokjin groans behind you, his pace quickening and becoming sloppy. Right as you scream out his name and come, his cock twitches inside you, shooting delicious come into you.

Seokjin flattens his chest against your back, holding you tightly. You feel his chest expanding with every breath he takes. Your thighs begin to shake and when he notices he rolls himself onto his side so that you're spooning together.

Silently, Seokjin combs his fingers through your hair. His breath, having calmed down, brushes softly against the nape of your neck.

You're exhausted, but force your eyes to stay open.

"Did you mean it?" He whispers and tucks some of your hair behind your ears.

"Mean what?"

"That you love me?" He whispers so quietly you have to take a second to let your brain put the words together.

You flip over so that you're facing him. He avoids your eyes and continues messing with your hair as a distraction.

"Did you mean it when you said you wanted to have a baby with me?"

Seokjin nods his head and finally drops his eyes to meet yours.

"I love you, Seokjin. I meant it earlier and that hasn't changed. And I don't think it ever will. No one can ever compare to you and how you love me."

There's a sparkle in his eyes as he smiles and leans down to kiss the tip of your nose.

"I hope this works, ‘cause you'll be an amazing mother."

"And you'll be an amazing father. I wonder if there's a spell that will let us know."

"Oh, I might know some people who can sense it right away. But for now, let's sleep. We can find out tomorrow."

© do not copy, modify, translate, or repost. Jinitude 11/23/19

𝓂𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉

[lady-divine-writes]

Respect the Journey, Enjoy the Destination (Rated M)

Summary: Aziraphale has scars that Crowley deeply regrets. But Crowley has one that Aziraphale regrets, too. It takes 6000 years for two enemies turned lovers - and now fiances - to come to terms with them. (1501 words)

Notes: This is the second of two presents I wrote for the amazing @whiteleyfoster as a thank you for their Prince of Omens series. I held on to it till now because it makes a reference revealed in today's update and I didn't want to give anything away. This takes place after the previous epilogue I wrote - When an End is Really a Beginning - that takes place after the events of the Good Omens mini-series, but includes the Prince of Omens version of the characters and references to their time in Egypt.

Read on AO3.

“Is this all right, angel?” Crowley asks, fingertips dancing down Aziraphale’s sides, circling around to his back.

“Yes …” Aziraphale sighs, arching up to receive the touch, but also moving closer, stretching his neck to give Crowley more skin to kiss. “Yes, it’s all right. It’s more than all right.”

Crowley shivers at Aziraphale’s praise, and Aziraphale adores it. Adores how much a few kind and honest words turn Crowley on. In Aziraphale’s eyes, it’s the purest form of foreplay. But something deeper dwells beneath his trembling. Something more. Crowley is always the tiniest bit nervous, Aziraphale notices, when they start to make love. Before the Apoca-didn’t, he assumed it was out of fear of getting caught.

Maybe it still is, even though there’s no need.

Old habits die hard after all.

Aziraphale doesn’t mention it. He doesn’t want to make Crowley self-conscious in any way. But Aziraphale can’t help being curious.

They’ve made love hundreds of times. They’ve both taken the lead. This time will prove to be just as miraculous as every other. If Crowley isn’t afraid of getting caught, why the nerves?

Aziraphale may never know.

Regardless, Aziraphale finds it endearing.

“What do you want, angel?” Crowley whispers, and fire shoots straight from those kisses to Aziraphale’s toes.

“I want you, my dear.”

Crowley grins against Aziraphale’s neck. “You always say that.”

“Well, it’s all I want.”

“How do you want me?”

Aziraphale kisses Crowley’s bicep, eyes flicking coyly up to meet his. “You choose. Surprise me.”

“All right.” Crowley swallows hard, chews his lower lip. Thoughts Aziraphale can’t decipher swim through the liquid amber of Crowley’s eyes, whose serpent gold has bled into the white, filling them from rim to rim with lust. But the furrow of his brow battles against the passion of his eyes.

Aziraphale wishes he’d tell him what’s on his mind.

Crowley puts a hand to Aziraphale’s shoulder, starts turning him over. “Like this … i-if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t. I love you this way, too,” Aziraphale reassures him, trying to iron-out the wrinkles in Crowley’s confidence. Crowley helps Aziraphale onto his stomach. The moment he’s there, Crowley kisses him again, lips blazing a trail down the angel’s spine, moving over his skin with murmurs Aziraphale can feel but can’t hear.

But the longer those murmurs continue, the clearer they become.

Aziraphale concentrates on them, the bittersweet way they tingle, until he can determine what they are.

Apologies.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, angel. I’m so sorry …”

“Sorry for what, Crowley?” Aziraphale peeks over his shoulder. He sees his demon but can’t catch his eyes - his head bowed, chin pressed to his neck as he retreats.

“Sorry for what, love?” Aziraphale asks again.

Crowley doesn’t answer. He sits back on his heels, gulps a few times, but he doesn’t speak.

A second later, Aziraphale feels a tear fall onto his skin.

“My dear!” Aziraphale flips over and takes Crowley’s hands in his. “What in the world is wrong!?”

“You kept them,” Crowley says, almost to himself. It’s not a revelation. Crowley knew they were there. “To remind you never to trust a demon. Never to trust me.”

They’re scars - horrid, angry whip marks littering Aziraphale’s back, made in Egypt when Aziraphale was mistaken for a lazy slave. Scars from a punishment Aziraphale wouldn’t have had to endure if not for Crowley’s conceit.

His ignorance.

His cowardice.

And when he thinks about the morning after, the horrible things he said in an attempt to push Aziraphale away, get him to leave Egypt and go somewhere he’d be safe …

… in his head, he’s discorporated himself for it, over and over, in the vilest of ways.

“It’s … it’s not that simple.” Aziraphale pleads, needing Crowley to understand as he realizes this is where those nervous tremors stem from.

Crowley seeing these marks.

Being reminded.

The torture it brings.

“It’s what I think every time I look at them.”

“I didn’t keep them to hurt you. And I don’t wear them as armor against you,” Aziraphale explains. “Scars are simply a road. They’re a part of our story. They tell us where we’ve been, remind us of something important.”

“And what’s that?” Crowley sniffs.

“That we’re stronger than the things that try to break us. Back in Egypt, so many things tried to do that, tried to keep us apart. But in the end, here we are - you and I.” Aziraphale puts his left hand over Crowley’s, his serpent ring resting over Crowley’s angel one. “Together. And for the rest of our lives.”

Crowley nods. His eyelids flutter closed. He takes a deep breath in, digests those words. A tear slips down his cheek. Aziraphale follows the path of that tear as it rolls. It lingers on his jawbone, then breaks free, landing on his chest and continuing from there. Another follows, merges with the first, pushes it along. It skirts his flank and settles on his stomach, absorbing into his skin. That journey draws Aziraphale’s gaze to Crowley’s side and the faint, silvery remains of a fiery gash. Aziraphale reaches for it, fingertips hovering over, tracing its outline in the air.

“This scar,” he says. “You chose to keep it. Why?”

Crowley shrugs. Without opening his eyes, he puts a hand over Aziraphale’s and holds it tight, presses it to the spectre of the wound. “I wanted a souvenir from being struck by a holy sword. Doesn’t happen every day, you know. I thought it would look cool. Maybe give me clout down in Hell.” He chuckles lightly. “It sure made Hastur jealous as all get out.”

“I did this to you,” Aziraphale says sadly.

Crowley’s eyes snap open. “No, you didn’t,” he says to the regret on Aziraphale’s face. “Pharaoh did.”

“With my sword. The one I lost track of. You said so yourself.”

“Angel …” Crowley shakes his head “… you can’t blame yourself for this.”

“He couldn’t have touched you without it. Doesn’t it stand to reason that if I hadn’t given it away he’d never have been able to hurt you?”

“He … he could have found a way,” Crowley says lamely. “Besides, you had good reasons for giving it away.”

“He could have destroyed you! Which means I would have destroyed you!” Aziraphale cries, a rage born of grief hardening his voice, and Crowley discovers a truth he’d never considered.

Aziraphale has never forgiven himself for this, even though there’s nothing to forgive.

“You saved me! In a thousand ways, you saved me!”

Aziraphale’s watery gaze meets Crowley’s concerned one. “I know what you did to the man who beat me. What you sentenced him to.”

Crowley’s eyes go wide - wider than Aziraphale has ever seen. “What? H-how?”

"The Archangels. They keep tabs on the prisoners in the bottomless pit. I read their report.”

“O-oh,” Crowley says, mildly ashamed, but only that Aziraphale didn’t hear the news from him directly. He didn’t tell him at the time because he didn’t want to sound like he was bragging. Of course, he didn’t want Aziraphale to try and stop him, either. “I forgot about that.”

“He’ll suffer far more than Pharaoh.”

“Pharaoh burns in the fires of eternal torment. You know that.”

“I know. But sometimes I think …” Aziraphale’s voice cracks, splinters away. When it returns, it’s sad and low and terrifying all at once “… it’s not enough.”

“F-for what he did to the slaves?”

“And you. He threatened you. Took you prisoner.” Aziraphale raises a hand, cards it through Crowley’s hair, winds the cool strands around his fingers and gives them a possessive squeeze. “He … he cut your hair,” Aziraphale stutters, on the verge of tears. “I wasn’t there, but when I close my eyes, I can see it. I see him wrapping his hand around it, pulling it … I see the tears in your eyes, the look on your face - the humiliation, the pain, the fear. And I see him inflicting all of it with my sword! I can’t exact revenge the way you can. But sometimes I wish …”

“No, you don’t! Aziraphale?” Crowley leans forward, takes Aziraphale’s face in his hands, rests their foreheads together. “No, you don’t! You’re an angel!”

Aziraphale sniffles. “Perhaps I’m not a very good angel.”

“You’re the best angel I know.” Crowley kisses Aziraphale’s tears when they start to fall. “That’s why I want to spend forever with you.”

Aziraphale sighs, the sadness in that single breath enough to crush Crowley. Had he only known! Had he a single clue! Maybe he could have relieved Aziraphale of his agony a long time ago. But Aziraphale is a master at keeping his cards close to his chest.

They both are.

“Forever is a long time, my dear,” Aziraphale says.

“I know.” Crowley rushes forward and kisses his angel on the mouth, revels in kissing his angel, glories in the fact that he’s the only one who can. “And thank God for that.”

[luciehercndale]

Afternoon

Today, after spending the whole morning and afternoon writing about birds and their symbolism, I could finally write about something that wasn’t uni-related, and that’s how this one shot came to exist. I was inspired by a line from CoG where Will says:  “In the meantime, I shall be with your mother in the library. We are still under the A section of the Unusual Demons book. Who knew there was a wormlike creature called the Aaardshak common in Sri Lanka?” and I hope you enjoy!

Couple: Will x Tessa Rating: M (even though it’s not that dirty, but...)

“Tess?”

Will’s voice echoed in the empty library, as Tessa was looking for books they could use to find information on some demons that had recently appeared in London.

She loved the library, it was probably the place she liked the most at the Institute – well, that and of course, the drawing room, that had turned into their drawing room a couple of years ago.

Tessa also loved how, even after more than twenty years, she felt delighted hearing his voice. He had such a lively voice, which she rarely found lifeless. Even when his parents had died a few years before and he had been broken for a while, he had tried to show he was okay, not letting her and their son and daughter realize that he was hurting inside.

But she knew. She knew how the light had left his usually vivid and energetic behavior, and she tried to help him lessen the pain. Death was part of life and at least he had his family and Jem to look after him, despite this one couldn’t visit them all the time.

Tessa grabbed a book, suddenly attracted by the dark blue cover. Treaty on forest creatures, the spine said. She frowned and shook her head. No, definitely not the right book.

She was near one of the shelves in the far corner of the room. She didn’t know why she had decided to look here since this wasn’t the part of the library with books that could interest her, but maybe, just maybe, there was a bit of intention as to the choice of her direction.

She wanted to be found.

She kept looking at the stacks of books and occasionally looked at her sides with the corner of her eye, while she told herself she shouldn’t do it. It would be more fun if she didn’t know…

The air was knocked out of her for a brief moment when she felt him behind her.

She could smell his cologne, because he was closer as ever. She liked it. She liked how his scent mixed with hers while they were in bed, soaked, stuck together like leaves, as their labored breaths gave rise to a symphony of pleasure and words of love and promise. “You have no idea how much I love you,” he often told her. She would never get tired of him professing his feelings over and over again, as she couldn’t stop her heart from melting whenever she would say it back.

For weird reasons, before they got married, he feared he would be her second choice, since Jem had become a Silent Brother. After all these years he never doubted his worth again. Tessa knew that he was sure she loved him as much as he did, but every time she repeated those words, his eyes would shine like a child on Christmas day all the same. It made her feel ecstatic and imbued with pure joy, the way that her husband reacted to things small like that, because she knew that they meant the world to him. That she meant the world to him.

Will circled her waist with his hands, and inhaled her scent. His nose was closer to her ear, and she felt his breath on her neck. It made her shiver. It didn’t help that he also kissed her there.

“There you are, fy nghariad” he whispered. “I was thinking someone had kidnapped you.”

Tessa shivered all over and smirked, even if he couldn’t see her expression. “Maybe I just did it on purpose.”

He laughed, and his laugh was mischievous. His left hand caressed her cheek for a moment, slow and steady, until he placed it on her collarbone, drawing circles on her exposed skin over there. “How cunning” he commented. “And which purpose did you have, Mrs. Herondale?”

She grabbed his right hand and drove it across her shoulder blades until it touched her left shoulder. “My back hurts so very much today, Will. Would you mind?” she asked seductively, moving her neck a bit, as if she couldn’t keep her head on it, if she tried.

“Anything for you, my wife” he replied, then proceeded to move his hands on her neck, right where her hairline was. She had her hair up that day, which meant her neck was exposed. His fingers trailed on the back of her shoulders and started massaging her there, until Tessa couldn’t hold her sighs in anymore. “Do you like it?”

Tessa closed her eyes and a moan escaped her lips. In the beginning she was embarrassed to make those sounds whenever they touched each other, but then she decided it wasn’t nothing to be ashamed of. As she learned with time, those sounds were just a way to depict pleasure.

“Y-yes” she murmured.

Behind her, Will smirked and his hands worked on the nerves on her back until they were on her hips again. Then, in a swift motion, he turned her body so that she would face him. Her cheeks were flushed, and she was excited, he could see it in her bright eyes. They were closer to a window, and the light of the afternoon made her shine as if she was a goddess. She indeed was his goddess.

Tessa didn’t have the time breathe because her husband crushed his lips on hers. The book she had in one hand fell to the floor, as she wrapped her arms around his neck and grabbed a fist of his hair. The kiss wasn’t slow, it was raw, passionate, needy. Every time they kissed it was different, because not every kiss was the same. At times they took their time and savored each other’s lips, while other times he lightened up light a wild torch burning, and Tessa would feel as if they were on fire and the world would explode any minute because of their body heat.

Will took a moment to take his vest off and threw it on the floor unceremoniously, then his lips went on hers once again, and seemed wilder than before.

She let herself be kissed and kissed him back with the same fierceness, but then she stopped abruptly. She was out of breath.

“Is there something wrong?” Will asked, worry in his eyes. “Did I hurt you, cariad?” he caressed her cheek with affection, noticing her plump lips.

Tessa put her hands on his cheeks as well, then moved them on his shoulders. “No, Will, you didn’t hurt me,” she reassured him with a smile. Lately he was being a bit preoccupied because of the recent events, and she hated to see him so pained, but it was in his nature to be protective of the ones he loved. “But don’t you think someone could come?”

He raised an eyebrow. “You never worried about this in the past. And, after all, isn’t this Institute technically our home?”

She felt her cheeks heat and looked away. “Yes, yes, that’s true,” she conceded. “But there are other people in the building besides us. What if they have the same idea and come to look for something on the books we have in the library?”

He stroked her chin softly, and gave her one of his sweetest smiles. “I don’t think they’d do it but that’s okay, Tess. We can continue later if you want, but I need to kiss you one last time or I’ll go crazy.” He said, his eyes almost begging her for that at least.

It wasn’t like they hadn’t made out or done worse in the library when their son and daughter were out of the Institute, but still, they had been alone at that time. She wouldn’t rule out the possibility of doing something like role play in there, but probably another time.

Tessa nodded and grabbed the lapels of his white shirt and met his lips hungrily. She was losing herself in that kiss when she heard footsteps and stopped abruptly, kneading Will in his nether regions in the process.

“Ouch!” he cried, and put his forehead on her shoulder. Then he glanced at her, seeing Tessa’s cheeks beet red. She wasn’t looking at him. Her eyes were on something behind them, so he did turn to see what had startled her.

Dark green eyes started back at them with amusement and the hint of a smirk. “Uhm, well, what do you say in these occasions?”

Tessa touched her forehead for a moment, mortified, while Will grinned as if this didn’t embarrass him at all. “It all depends on how much you’ve witnessed, Matthew.”

Matthew Fairchild was stunned, but not surprised by Will’s answer. Truthfully, Will was James’ father but he had the soul of a guy his age. He wasn’t ashamed at all that his son’s parabatai had basically witnessed him and his wife devour each other as if they couldn’t breathe if they didn’t put their hands on each other every few hours.

He was about to say something sarcastic like that he had seen enough tongue and the way James’ father was fondling Tessa’s chest and the way Tessa herself was grabbing her husband’s rear end and feeling the tight muscles in her small hand. But he didn’t. Tessa was still sort of hiding behind Will and it looked as if she wished to disappear. Why did he come there? He totally forgot.

“I’ve only seen you when your wife kicked you… where she kicked you” Matthew replied, trying to give them his best smile and trying not to look at the vest on the floor and Tessa’s hair in disarray.

Tessa seemed to remember what she did a few moments before, and looked at her husband. “That’s right! Are you okay, Will?” she wondered, looking down for an instant. Then, remembering Matthew was there, she glanced away shyly.

He thought James’ mother was a darling, but then, realizing he had just thought about Tessa that way, he excused himself and left them alone. “I’ll leave you to tend to your husband, then.”

Will and Tessa looked at each other and started laughing, then she sighed. “I’m sorry I kicked you.”

“I’m not,” Will said, one eyebrow raised.

Tessa slapped his shoulder and rolled her eyes. “You’re incorrigible.”

“But that’s why you love me, right?”

“That’s why I love you, yes. Now let’s look at these books and then we can play,” she told him, smirking.

“You always know how to excite me, Tess.”

She opened her mouth. He was so close that his… “Don’t worry, I won’t forget to tend to you, bach.”

“You’re going to dress up as a nurse?”

She rolled her eyes and grinned. “If it makes you feel better…”

“You should know by now that anything you do, especially with your hands, works like magic.”

Tessa blushed and stared at him. She had wanted to look for clues in the library because she thought book would help, but in the end, she was the one who couldn’t help herself when Will was concerned. She closed the distance between them and kissed him one last time. Or what she thought would be the last time.

Oh, she was really fond of libraries.

[alwaysahiccupandastrid]

(Some of) My Favourite Quotes from the How To Train Your Dragon movies

“This is Berk.”

“There’s Fishlegs, Snotlout, the Twins, Ruffnut and Tuffnut, and...*voice crack* Astrid. *cue heart eyes*”

"You sir, are playing a dangerous game. Keeping this much raw... Viking-ness... contained?! THERE WILL BE CONSEQUENCES!" // “I’ll take my chances.”

"Well, between you and me, the village could do with a little less feeding, don't you think?"

“Excuse me, barmaid! I’m afraid you’ve brought me the wrong offspring - I ordered an extra large boy with beefy arms, extra guts and glory on the side! This here? This is a talking fish bone!”

"It's not so much what you look like, it's what's inside that he can't stand."

“You need to stop all...this.” // “You just pointed to all of me.” // “Yes, that’s it! Stop being all of you.”

"Oh, the gods hate me. Some people lose their knife, or their mug. No, not me. I manage to lose an ENTIRE DRAGON?!"

"Oh, man! I should've gone first! 'Cause I was thinking, you know, we have a surplus of dragon-fighting Vikings, but do we have enough... Bread-making Vikings? Or small-home-repair Vikings?"

"Yeah, it's only fun if you get a scar out of it."

“Yeah, no kidding, right? Pain, love it."

“What’s the first thing you’re going to need?” // “A doctor?!?”

“Get back to bed, ya overgrown sausage!”

"Toothless? I could've sworn you had... teeth."

“Ha! It’s like the size of my- AHHHH!”

“I AM HURT, VERY MUCH HURT!”

"Everything we know about you guys is wrong."

“SON OF A HALF TROLL, RAT EATING MUNGE BUCKET!”

"Uh, you're right, you're right, you're right. I'm through with the lies. I've been making... outfits. So, you got me. It's time everyone knew. Drag me back. Go ahead. Here we go."

"OW! Why would you DO that?!"

"That's for the lies! And that's... [Drops the butt of her axe on Hiccup's groin]... for everything else!"

“Da-da-da, we’re dead!”

“And now the spinning. Thank you for nothing, you useless reptile.”

[Punches Hiccup] "That's for kidnapping me... [Kisses him on the cheek] That's for everything else."

“They’ve killed hundreds of us-!” // “And we’ve killed thousands of them!”

“You’re not a Viking. You’re not my son.”

“Three hundred years and I’m the first Viking who wouldn’t kill a dragon.” // “...First to ride one though.”

“I wouldn’t kill him because he looked as frightened as I was...I looked at him, and I saw myself.”

“So? What are you gonna do?”

“I knew it. I’m dead.”

“That’s for scaring me!” // “What, is it always going to be this way, this-?!” // *kisses him* // “I...could get used to it.”

“THAT’S MY FUTURE DAUGHTER IN LAW!!!”

"Oh, what? You want an apology? Is that why you're pouting, big baby-poo?"

"Well try this on! [hugs him, tries to wrestle with him] Oh, you feeling it yet? Huh? Picking up on all of my heartfelt remorse?"

“He's down! Oh, and it's ugly! Dragons and Vikings, enemies again! Locked in combat to the bitter--[Toothless pins Hiccup] --AAHHHhhhh..."

[After Toothless licks him] "You KNOW that doesn't wash out!"

"So, what should we name it?" [Toothless scratches his armpit] "Itchy Armpit it is."

“Son, we need to talk!-“ // “Not now, dad, I’ve got a whole day of goofing off to get started.”

“What you’re searching for isn’t out there, Hiccup - it’s in here. Maybe you just don’t see it yet.”

(Slow motion) “Oh my 😏 me likey... take me...!”

"I don't know. It's kind of hard to wrap my head around, to be frank. It's not everyday you find out your mother is some kind of... crazy, feral, vigilante dragon lady." // “Well...at least I’m not boring!”

“...he got me back. Right, bud? You couldn't save all of me, could you? You just had to make it even. So,..peg leg!”

"Never take a toy from a dragon. Don't you know anything?"

“This is why I never married - this, and one other reason.”

“You’re as beautiful as the day I lost you.”

"That's your mother?" // “Well, now you see where I get my dramatic flair!"

“May the Valkyries welcome you and lead you through Odin's great battlefield. May they sing your name with love and fury, so that we might hear it rise from the depths of Valhalla and know that you've taken your rightful place at the table of kings. For a great man has fallen: A warrior. A chieftain. A father. A friend.

“He always said you’d become the strongest of them all - and he was right.”

“You have the heart of a Chief and the soul of a dragon”

“A Chief protects his own.”

“It wasn’t your fault, bud...they made you do it...please, you’re my best friend...my best friend.”

"Yeah! Take 'em down, babe!"

“Now do you get it? This is what it is to earn a dragons loyalty!”

“He’s challenging the Alpha!” // “To protect you!”

“See..I told you it was in here.” (Punches his suit, making his wings sprout up)

“The Chief has come home!”

"This is Berk. A bit trampled and busted and covered in ice, but it's home. It's our home. Those who attacked us, are relentless, and crazy. But those who stopped them, oh, even more so! We may be small in numbers, but we stand for something bigger than anything the world can pin against us. We are the voice of peace, and bit by bit, we will change this world. You see, we have something they don't. Oh, sure, they have armies, and they have armadas. But we... we have... OUR DRAGONS!”

“Ohhh I know you’re a demon, no human legs are that skinny!”

“That’s really just a nitwit who forgot to fire proof his butt.”

“Astrid, I had him right where I wanted him.” // “And now he’s right where I wanted him.”

“I thought this was supposed to be a stealth mission?” // “Yeah, they always start that way.”

“Mmm, gorg-e-ousss...Watch the hair!”

“Hang up those saddles and get married.” // Tuffnut: “The M word.” // Ruffnut: “Gross. Unless it’s me.”

“Marry him, please. You’re the only one with any sense around here. With you wearing the pants, there’s still hope.” “Wow, Gobber! Not awkward at all!”

“Hiccup...this is Berk, son. It’s our home.”

“Even Night Furies?” // “Especially Night Furies.” // “Those are scary!”

“Well, we could just take Gobber’s advice and tie the knot. That should fix everything! But hey, if you’re having doubts about yours truly, I’m sure Snotlout is still available.” // “He only has eyes for your mom.” // “OH, playing dirty now, huh?” // “You asked for it...looks like there might be a wedding after all...”

“Okay okay; you win! You always win!” // “You knew what you were getting into.” // “Uh-huh, right.”

“It’s more like a Bright Fury-.” // “A Light Fury!” // “...Yeah, yours is better, probably...”

“Bud, what’s gotten into you? What is all this slobbering and panting?” // “Isn’t it obvious? He’s in love!” // “Trust me, relationships are nothing but pain and misery. (*Astrid lightly hits him*) Ow... What did I just say?!”

“Show these nay sayers, of which there are many, that you are more than just a malnourished runt with bad hair, strange teeth and a twig for a neck.” // “You're-you're really bad at pep talks.”

“I'll give him a piece of my mind. And by mind, I mean fist!”

“Did you miss the part where we almost died? Have you seen my house?”

“Look, I know this is our home - my father left me to protect it. But Berk is more than this place. WE are Berk! The people, the dragons! I say Berk is wherever we go!”

“We have to fight for their freedom.”

“Furies mate for life, you see.”

“Ah don’t mind him - it’s not your fault you have the body of a Norse God. I myself have that same problem.” (Tries to flex, back cracks painfully)

“Who died and made you Chief?” (*everyone groans/Gothi hits him*)

“Can we lose the whole honking goose thing? It’s hard to imagine wedded bliss with that going off every minute.”

“I’ll go with you, for protection-.” // “(quickly) NO...(pause)...you’re far too important here.”

“Oh, now you can draw!”

“Save it for your girlfriend! Go on, get out of here!”

“About that leg...lose the limp, no ones gonna marry that.” // “I have a prosthetic leg!” // “Yeah, and I have a parasitic twin but you don’t see me limping around about it!”

“I feel like how Ruffnut feels every day: dumb.”

“Odin be spanked!”

“I try to avoid looking at her because she gives me acid reflux.”

“If they’re stuck with Ruffnut, I’m more worried about them.”

“I know what you're thinking. You've never had a prisoner this hot.”

“Oops, you let the dragons out! They’re gonna get you, no this ones gonna get you...!”

“Now that’s a king.”

“Dad? Are you gonna get us a new mom?” // “I don’t want another. Your mum was the only woman for me. She was the love of my life. But with love comes loss, son. It’s part of the deal. Sometimes it hurts, but in the end, it’s all worth it. There’s no greater gift than love.”

“Well, you’re right. You’re back to where you started. But I was the first to believe in you, and I have watched you doubt whether you’re worthy ever since. I am the person I am today because of you. I never told you that but it’s true. You’re the bravest, most stubborn, determined knucklehead I know. Toothless didn’t give you that, Hiccup. He just made it...” // “Easier.”

“So what are you gonna do about it?” // “Probably something stupid.” // “That’s the Hiccup I know.”

“You’re right, bud. It’s time. I was so busy fighting for a world that I wanted, I didn’t think about what you needed. You’ve looked after us for long enough. Time to look after yourselves.”

“Oh, Stormfly...my good girl.”

“So long...you big ugly beast. I’ll miss you.”

“Go on, bud. Lead them to the Hidden World. You’ll be safe there. Safer than you could ever be with me. It’s okay. I love you too. And I want you to be free. Our world doesn’t deserve you. Yet.”

“Go, Toothless...Go.”

“There were dragons when I was a boy. Ah, there were great, grim sky dragons that nested on the clifftops like gigantic, scary birds. Little, brown, scuttly dragons that hunted down the mice and rats in well-organized packs. Preposterously huge sea dragons that were twenty times as big as the big blue whale. Some say they crawled back into the sea, leaving not a bone nor a fang for men to remember them by. Others say they were nothing but folktales to begin with. I’m okay with that.”

“He’s not going to eat your father!”

“Legend says that when the ground quakes, or lava spews from the earth, it’s the dragons, letting us know they’re still here, waiting for us to figure out how to get along. Yes, the world believes the dragons are gone, if they ever existed at all. But we Berkians, we know otherwise. And we’ll guard this secret until the time comes when dragons can return in peace.”

[danurso]

Dimensional friends AU

*RWBY, JNR, oscar, qrow and maria are walking down argus streets*

Ruby: so, how are we supposed to get to atlas now?

Maria: i don’t know, with that old devilish hag blocking the way i think it's going to be pretty hard.

Jaune: i...think i have a plan.

Ruby: really? What is it?

Jaune: i talked with a old friend of mine and he’ll take us there, but it's going to take some time for him to arrive so we should get our weapons checked before this.

Weiss: is this old friend trustworthy?

Jaune: yeah, totally.

Yang: who could guess we would be saved by one of vomit boy’s old friends, i didn’t even knew you have friends before us.

Jaune: ha...ha...very funny, but just like you, i have my past.

Ruby: but you never actually told us right? I mean, you know what happened with me and yang in the past and we all know what the rest got through, but you never actually told about your past.

Jaune: well, my past is not a big deal, so i never had much of a reason to tell you.

Yang: i imagine, you probably spend the days reading comics and watching anime right?

Jaune: *sheepishly* yeah, pretty much.

Blake: so, where can we get our guns checked.

Jaune: i know someone, lets go.

*in the shady part of the town*

Ruby: *nervously* jaune...where are we going?

Jaune: we need to check our weapons right? I know someone who can help us with that. *gets inside a building passing a pair of tall bulky mans and getting into a large store full of weapon parts*

Ruby: *with stars in her eyes* thats a modified muzzle for a vulcan mk.3!? Ohh and this is a stock for a ballistic 1190!? I thought you could only find these in the black market!!

Weiss: *staring at some components* these parts could really be useful, but how can someone sell these pieces legally in such a place.

???: *in a russian accent* that is because they are not legal.

Weiss: *turns to see a really tall and bulky man that seemed more like a wall, he was bald with a long black beard, a scar over his blind left eye and with a robotic left arm* err...g-good afternoon...?

???: what kids are doing in my shop?

Qrow: *sweating profusely* w-wait, i know you, you’re vlad, skullbreaker vlad or colossus vlad, leader of the biggest black market of remnant.

Vlad: *with a shivering scowl* you little man know too much, i hope you not with police, are you?

Qrow: m-me? N-n-no im not.

Vlad: *staring at the group* what about you? You do not look good for business, specially the schnee girl, me have my mens to take you out or me will crack your heads myself *cracking his metal fingers with a deadly look*

RWBY, NR, Qrow, oscar, maria: *sweating profusely*

Jaune: you’re not doing this with your best friend are you?

Vlad: *stares at jaune for a moment* ...jaune?

Jaune: in flesh and bone.

Vlad: *stares for a bit longer before laughing and pulling him into a crushing hug* GHAHAHAHA!! IT HAS BEEN A WHILE!! HOW ARE YOU DOING LITTLE FRIEND!?

Jaune: *breathless* i’ll tell you after you stop crushing my spine.

Vlad: sorry little friend *lets him go* me forgot how fragile you are.

Jaune: yeah, im so fragile that i saved your ass back in budapest.

Vlad: that was after me save you in hong kong.

Jaune: but you forgot that hong kong was after malasia, where i saved you not only once but twice.

Vlad: hahahahaha!! Me will give you victory this time little friend, so, what can this old man do for you?

Jaune: me and my friends need some new weapon parts for our next travel, think you can help us out?

Vlad: sure! Any friend of jaune is my friend too, take anything you want, it is on me this time, a little thanks for your help last time.

Jaune: *sheepishly* i said you don’t need to thank me for that.

Vlad: me insist, thanks to you i can lay back in peace with wife and daughter by the end of day, so it is only natural for me to pay back for favor.

Jaune: right, thanks vlad.

Vlad: *with a huge smile* no problems little friend.

*later on*

Weiss: jaune…

Jaune: yes?

Weiss: what was that?

Jaune: vlad is a old friend i met, we hung out sometimes to do some stuff and he owes me a few favors, nothing much.

Blake: nothing much? Your friend is the leader of the number one black market of remnant, not only that but on our way back you talked with several other dangerous criminals like it was something normal.

Jaune: well...i just got some things on my past that led me to meet them, nothing much.

Ruby: *hugging crescent rose* at least now we got some awesome parts for our weapons.

Weiss: still we-

*BRUMMM*

Ruby: what's going on!?

Oscar: look! *stares at a giant robot leaving the mountain and going directly towards a giant godzilla-like grimm followed by a horde of other grimms*

Yang: thats not good.

Ruby: let's go! We need to help them!

*on the edge of the city*

Qrow: *slices a grimm in half* shit, they’re already invading the city.

Ruby: *staring at the fallen robot and the still up giant grimm* and the big one destroyed the robot, what do we do!?

Yang: we can’t fight that thing, but we can’t evacuate the city in time, anyone have a plan?

Jaune: i do! Give me a second. *takes off his glove slashing his hand drawing some blood from it and reciting what seemed like a chant in a weird language*

Ruby: jaune what are you do-

*ground starts to shake and the skies start to glow brighter before a pillar of black fire comes from the ground and a pillar of white light comes from heaver, both side by side*

Weiss: W-WHAT IS GOING ON!? *the white pillar disappear to reveal a woman with light fair skin, wavy golden hair, cyan blue eyes, clad in white robes and with a pair of white feathery wings*

Yang: w-what the… *staring at the man from the black pillar with pale white skin, red slitted eyes surrounded by black scleras, two black horns, a pair of bat like wings and clad in black robes*

???: you called?

Jaune: schiffer, steph, i know its too sudden but i need your help, these grimms are invading the city and several peoples are getting injured because of it.

Schiffer: *grins looking at the grimms around* sure, it will he fun. *raises his hand summoning a pitch black sword and raising it opening several portals from the ground which released a horde of demonic creatures that attacked the grimms*

Steph: *nods with a gentle smile* i’ll help the injurieds. *raises her hand summoning a white staff and raising it to summon portals from the skies that released human looking creatures with white feathery wings that started to help and heal the civilians.* i will help as well *flies off to the city*

Schiffer: and i’ll join the action *grins flying off towards the grimm and punching the grimm with enough strength to make it fly back several meters*

Jaune: *sighs in relief* i think we’re safe now.

RWBY, NR, Qrow, oscar, maria: *with jaws on the ground* w-what the hell is going on?

*a few minutes later*

Jaune: *sheepishly* sorry to call both of you here so suddenly, i would have warned if i could.

Steph: its okay, we don’t mind.

Schiffer: yeah, and it was kinda fun as well, not too challenging but fun nonetheless.

Jaune: of course it wasn't fun, you sliced that thing in half five seconds after the first punch, what did you expected?

Weiss: CAN SOMEONE PLEASE EXPLAIN WHAT IS HAPPENING HERE!?

Jaune: oh right, sorry guys, these are my friends.

Schiffer: *with a small grin* i’m schiffer, the demon prince, nice to meet you jaune’s friends.

Steph: *with a soft smile* and i am steph, the angel princess, it's nice to meet all of you.

Blake: wait wait wait...demon prince and angel princess?

Jaune: yeah, they’re the firstborns of the kings of their respective races, they used to be in war since the beginning of times but things changed recently.

Schiffer: yeah *grips steph’s hand* thanks to jaune i realized that having steph in my life was way more important than the war we were fighting.

Steph: *with a bright smile and a light blush* agreed, i don’t think i can live without schiffer in my life anymore, all that thanks to jaune.

Schiffer: its thanks to him we’re married today, and that our races can now coexist in peace.

Nora: so that means fearless leader stopped a war from the beginning of times by making you two fall in love for eachother?

Steph: basically.

Weiss: wha-bu-an-w-that doesn’t even make sense!

Schiffer: maybe, but you humans are still too young to comprehend the elder races *turns back to jaune* so, is that everything?

Jaune: yeah, thanks for the help, sorry again for disturbing you two.

Steph: don’t worry about that, after everything you did for us this is nothing.

Schiffer: call us if you ever need out help again. *hugs steph’s waist* now if you excuse us, me and my honey have some business to take care off. *grins*

Steph: *blushing slightly* d-darling, you’re too naughty.

Schiffer: ohh, i know i am. *looks back at the group* later everyone. *disappear in a gray pillar of light*

Qrow: ....what the hell just happened?

Ruby: jaune...you have a lot of explaining to do.

Jaune: *staring at his scroll* sure, but we should talk about this later, my friend arrived, we can already go to atlas.

Blake: and where is he? *gets then covered by a shadow and looks up to see a massive ship flying above the city*

Jaune: *deadpaning* a valiant super heavy cruiser? Really?

???: general said it needed to be this one.

RWBY, NR, Qrow, oscar, maria: *turns around to see a tall man clad in green armor and helmet, holding a hi-tech rifle and with the number ‘117’ on the left side of his chest.*

Jaune: really chief? We’re only going to atlas, a small ship would be enough.

Master chief: general insisted that i should bring the cruiser.

Jaune: why? It's just a short travel, there’s no need for that.

Master chief: still, you know how the general is, he has you in high regards since you’re the one who settled the balance and peace between all the races of the universe, it's only natural that he would be carefull with you.

Jaune: *sigh* whatever, as long as we get to atlas i think it's okay, it's good to see you again at least chief.

Master chief: i could say the same thing, now let's go, the ship will leave in twenty minutes.

Jaune: okay, i'm right after you *starts to walk but stops and looks back at the group who is frozen with jaws on the ground* what is it?

Ruby: are these peoples space warriors?

Jaune: more like space soldiers, but basically yes.

Weiss: how do you know them?

Blake: and what does he means with you establishing the peace between all races in the universe?

Jaune: *shrugs* some things just happen and you can’t avoid it.

Yang: *stomping towards him and gripping his shoulders tightly with a deadly look* vomit boy, you’re telling us everything about your past on our way to atlas, okay?

Jaune: *sweating profusely* o-okay…

Yang: *deadly serious* is there any other friend we should know about?

Jaune: i-i don’t think s-

???: *teleports behind jaune* wha-? This isn’t king kai’s planet.

???: i told you you were doing something wrong kakarot.

???: oh, hey jaune, it's been a while.

Jaune: *nervously* h-hey goku, vegeta, could you come back later please, im a bit busy now.

Goku: *stares at a fuming yang emanating a fire aura* t-this ki is just like chichi’s *nervously* we’re leaving, see’ya jaune, good luck. *teleports away*

Jaune: *nervous chuckle* i'm probably going to have to explain that too right?

Yang: you just read my mind.

(Confuse? If so then my job here is done)

[stuck-in-jelly]

MHA Characters As Things I've Said/Heard Part 5

This is probably the final one folks! It was a nice ride:

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

Present Mic: And his name was Prince Arthur....where else have we heard this name?

Kaminari:...Shrek?

Kirishima: yeah, Shrek right?

Mina: Pretty sure it was Shrek

Present Mic:...

Momo softly: King Arthur...from the Arthurian legends

Present Mic leaning in almost in tears: Thank you. Thank you so much

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

Tsuyu and Uraraka:*drawing on each others paper*

Mina: Pft! Why you guys doodling on each others paper like lovesick idiots?

Tsuyu: Would you like us to doodle on yours too?

Mina:....please i want love

-------

Midoryia: Ugh I had to get up at 5 in the morning to finish Aziawa's paper

Shinsou:...I hate you

Midoriya: What? Why?!

Shinsou: I regularly wake up at 4 or 5 in the morning

Midoryia:WHY?!

Shinsou: Chronic depression and insomnia

------

Mina and Kaminari:*make eyecontact while cheating*

Mina:...What are you doing?

Kaminari: what are YOU doing?

Mina:...I won't say anything if you don't

------

Iida: Shouldn't you be sleepy?

Midoryia: Im too scared to be sleepy anymore

-----

Aizawa: Yamada, are you STILL talking?

Mic: I have a bachelors in speaking

----------

Mina: Wow Momo you look nice with your hair down, why don't you leave it down

Momo: I put my hair up when I'm stressed

Mina: Haha but your hair....your hair is always up....

Momo:...I said what I said

--------

Kirishima: Hey bro I watched like two 1 and a half hour long John Mulaney shows and I need some human interactions, can we hang out?

Bakugou: Why?

Kirishima: Why I watched two 1 and a half hour long John Mulaney shows? Well I'm depre-

Bakugou: No I don't care, why did you decide to bother me?

------

Bakugou in the kitchen at 2 a.m. singing into a spoon and dancing: you probably think yOURE BETTER NOW BETTER NOW YOU ONLY SAY THAT CAUSE IM NOT AROUND! NOT AROUND!

Bakugou dancing: YOU KNOW I NEVER MEANT TO LET YOU DOWN! LET YOU DOWN!

Bakugou turning around: I WOULD'VE GAVE YOooouuuuu....

Kirishima:....

Bakugou:...how long have you been there?

Kirishima: Since you started dancing to the beat

Bakugou slowly picking up a knife:...im sorry but no one else must know

-------

Shinsou laying on Aizawa's chest:...holy sHit DAD

Aizawa: what

Shinsou: you have a heart beat!

Aizawa:..Duh, why wouldn't I?

Shisou: I dunno I just kinda forgot you were alive and not some demonic presence nursing me

Aizawa throwing him off the bed: I HATE BEING YOUR FATHER

-----

Mic holding out arms: Eri! You want to give your other dad a hug?

Eri:*waddles past Mic and to Aizawa*

Mic sitting on the ground: No. Of course not. You only love him

-------

Kaminari:*spits out red stuff and brushing teeth* that's either the takis from eailer or blood

Iida: Spit again

Kaminari:*spits a lot more red*

Iida sighing: Of course, of course its both.

-------

Kaminari: your legs are hairy

Mina:..And?

Kaminari: isn't that a bit unhygenic?

Mina: Kaminari I've seen you eat a m&m covered in mud and grass

Kaminari: THAT WAS A DARE AND FOR 2 DOLLARS DONT BRING THIS UP

-------

Yamada: Ai! The coffee is hot!

Shinshou: no it isn't you are just weak

Yamada: Really? Then drink it

Shinshou:*while maintaining eye contact chugs the entire cup*

Yamada:....

Shinshou slamming the cup down: Coward.

Yamada:what have i created

----------

Iida: I thought we made progress!!!

Midoryia: We did! I only cried last night alone in my room

Uraruka: Oh baby no.

-----------

Ectoplasm: Kirishima! What's the answer

Kirishima without skipping a beat: The answer is 2x to the second power plus 7x plus 49 over 16

Bakugou: hOLY SHIT YOU LISTENED TO ME

Kirishima: Im a dumbass who can learn occasionally

---------

Kaminari: Aizawa! I have an average of 56! Put in grades so it can go up!

Aizawa: if I put your grades in your averge would drop lower

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

Aizawa: Shinsou go do your chores now.

Mic: Ha! Loser!

Shinsou: You're the one married to him. Loser

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

Sero and Kaminari:*see a spider after watching into the spiderverse*

Sero: COME HERE LITTLE BUD! BITE ME

Kaminari pushing him: NO! FUCK OFF I WANT TO BE SPIDERMAN

Sero:YOU DONT GET TO STAN SPIDERMAN I'VE BEEN A FAN SINCE THE BEGINNING

Mina: Why don't you both be spiderman? Anyone can wear the mas-

Sero and Kaminari: NO!

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

Kyotoku: I don't want your boyfriends germs all over the bed

Jirou: I DONT HAVE A BOYFRIEND

Kyotoku: Or girlfriend or whatever

Jirou: I GOT NO ONE!! ACCEPT THAT YOUR DAUGHTER AINT GOT NO GAME

----------

Aizawa running out of the classroom: MINA ASHIDO GET BACK HERE

Mina: NO!

Mina:*books it down the hall and smashes out the door*

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

Yamada: Whose here?

Aizawa: The slut

Midnight throwing open the door: HEYO

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

Mina: Thank you Sato! I'll bring you candy tomorrow

Sato: No. Please no more candy no

Mina: if not candy then what would you want?

Sato: A healthy balanced meal

Kaminari: Ramen it is then!

Sato: NO

-----

Midoriya: There have been many attempted murders on me. Sadly none have successed

--------

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

[amaikana]

The Other World (A TPN Fanfic)

-.-.-

Pair: None

Tag(s): Ray-centric, Angst & Fluff, Horror-ish, Inspired by Coraline

Summary: Ray dreamed of an other world. More colorful and filled with laughter. A world where Mama pampered him and never talked about demons. A world where everyone loved him, living and smiling and happy. It was everything he'd ever dreamt of....It was everything he knew shouldn't be existing.

A/N: Cross-posted on AO3. Bringing this back again cause I have no Halloween content. Enjoy the creepy crappy drawing lol.

-.-.-

Ray dreamed of an other world. A world filled with laughter every day. A world with no trace of tearful goodbyes. A world that was too good to be true.

It was all smiles and beams of joy every day and night in the House, much like the one he’d always known before. Though all the smiles were directed at him, they were all laughing with him, and everyone beamed with joy every time they saw him.

“We love you!” Norman exclaimed cheerily one day. The boy was tilting his head adorably and smiling brightly at him like the other, other Norman never did.

“Come join us and play, Raaaay!” Emma begged.

“…Why?”

There were still many others who seemed unoccupied.

“Because you’re our favorite, duh!” Emma said it as if it was something so obvious (It shouldn’t be. Her favorite was always Norman. He was never anyone’s favorite).

“You’re everyone’s favorite here, silly Ray,” she continued, pouting at him petulantly with her puppy eyes—or more like, dark, dark, button eyes.

Everything was so unreal.

(‘Perhaps because everything IS unreal,’ his mind whispered)

Though out of it all, what was most bizarre to him was Mama. Nothing could compare to the feeling of how weird it was when she’s holding him, hugging him, pampering him with anything he asked for, and spent an unimaginable amount of time just carrying and caressing him in her arms, telling him funny stories of a purple eyed boy he’d never met nor ever heard of.

“Why you look at me that weirdly, my dear baby? Of course, I love to pamper you. You’re my favorite child, after all.”

Mama smiled at him weirdly. Not his usual Mama, but this other Mama. Something about it was deeply unsettling. Though he craved so much for that undivided attention and love that was directed at him.

“I-I’m…I’m your favorite?” his voice came out almost inaudibly.

 ‘I want to hear it. Just once… Please, just once…’

“Yes, Ray.” The other Mama poked his cheek and chuckled fondly. “Have always been. You’re my brightest pride and joy.”

He bit his tongue secretly as to not the tears fall. The whisper sounded so sweetly to his aching heart.

.

.

All in all, everything had come to an end. He knew it was all too good to be true from the very beginning, anyway.

“Come on, sweety. I just need to sew it into you. You can even pick other colors that you want.”

The other Mama snapped her fingers. Then suddenly the colors of her button eyes changed. From the original pitch black, to burgundy red, to emerald green, to bubble gum pink, then back at pitch black again.

“C’mon, Ray!” Emma tried to convince him. No. Wait. It was the other Emma.

“Don’t you want to play with us more?” The other Emma pouted, looking at him hopefully. So did the dozens other children in the long, long dinner table.

“We love you.”

One of the children stepped forward. It was Susan, his mind recognized, the one who supposed to be already shipped two weeks ago.

“I– thank you. But no, thanks. I think I should go back to…uh…my other siblings.”

He took a step back. Then two. Then three. Then—

“But, Ray.” Came Norman’s sulky voice behind him. Two little arms sneaked to circle his body from behind. Ticklish white strands caressing his cheek as a small head dropped on his right shoulder.

“We love you here, Ray,” the other Norman continued. “We always love you. And we’ll love you for-e-ver.”

His breath hitched. His resolve wavered. In front of him, his other Mama was thrusting again the gift box that contained two pair of identical buttons and a sewing needle in it.

“Stay still, my dear. It won’t hurt, I promise. I will never hurt you. You know why? Because I. Love. You.”

He’d almost, almost caved. Until he suddenly snapped out of his daze.

“I said NO!”

He shrugged the other Norman off and threw one of his shoes to the other Mama. Not wasting any second, he instantly made a dash for it.

But he forgot to count on one thing.

He forgot to count that dozens of other children were there, and their physique capabilities were no less than the ones from his world. Especially this other Emma.

“You WON’T go anywhere, Ray!”

Other Emma’s voice sounded so chilling in his ear, as she tackled him to the ground with such a force that he’s sure the Emma from his world wasn’t yet capable of.

Suddenly, there was a being in from of him. A being whose voice sounded as identical to his Mama, but had an appearance out of a nightmare.

A tall, dark, living skeleton was bending down at him.

“Oh, my poor son. You wouldn’t have to see me like this if you weren’t so naughty,” the skeleton chided.

“I’m NOT your son!” he snarled, still struggling behind the force of this enhanced strength version of Emma.

 “Naughty. Naughty. Naughty. Naughty.”

The other children chanted mockingly.

“Now, now. Don’t be scared. Everything’s okay now. Everything will be okay. Just open your eyes wide for a moment~”

The menacing sharp end of the needle getting closer and closer to his face.

He struggled with all his strength.  

“No! No! No! NO…!”

.

.

And then everything turned black.

.

.

 “Ray.”

 “Ray.”

 “Ray.”

.

.

And then there’s a voice.

.

.

 “Ray, wake up.”

.

.

A hand caressing his face, another shaking his shoulder a little bit harshly.

.

.

“Ray, dear.”

His eyes snapped open.

“M-ma-mama…?”

He blinked his eyes. Some droplets of tears falling onto his cheeks. Some others still latching on his eyelashes.

“You had a bad dream?” Mama asked kindly.

Ray never remembered his Mama being this kindly to him.

“Ma-mama…?”

Just to make sure, he stared cautiously at the pair of her purple eyes, wiling it to not change into eerie pitch black buttons again.

Mama sighed, then scoped him into her arms.

He didn’t fight it, savoring the rare gentle warmth.

“You read it, didn’t you?”

Her tone was scolding lightly, but her hand brushed his hair tenderly.

He didn’t answer, choosing to bury his head deeper into her bosoms instead. Listening, counting silently to each beat of her heart to ground himself into reality.

Mama sighed again. “I already told you not to read that one book.”

He let out a choked whimper. Images of the vivid dreams still fresh in his memory.

“Shh… It’s okay… It’s okay…” Mama shifted him in her arms and held him tighter. “I will sing you back to sleep, yeah?”

His real Mama’s calm voice echoing in the room softly, lulling him into another sleep. A peaceful, dreamless sleep.

And just like that, finally the world felt like it moved in order again.

.

.

Unbeknownst to her biological son sleeping in her arms, Isabella glanced haughtily at one dusty snow ball in the far corner, just on the very top of their old wooden wardrobe.

“You failed again, huh? Of course, his heart will still here with me. I’m giving him a realistic sincere love. Not an overly colorful that’s blatantly fabricated one.”

The snow ball glowed. Little skeleton figure in that snow ball snarled.

And the innocent, oblivious little Ray, just slept through it all.

.

.

[ END ]