#i'm not going to hold the series up as amazing or flawless or whatever

[aparticularbandit]

Kyoko in DR3 looked at her impossible task - solve the murders before she and Makoto both die - and then, when forced to make a choice between save herself or save the person she loves?

Made the same choice Yui did.

And that's Yui's influence.

Pre-Black Challenge Kyoko could never. Her family creed is to put the case first, even above family (which is why Jin split - because Grandpa Kirigiri wouldn't let Kyoko go see her dying mother because they were on a case, and Mama Kirigiri died - and Jin was right for splitting, but he was wrong for leaving Kyoko there).

During DR Kirigiri, we see Kyoko making the comment that sometimes you have to let people die to solve the case, and every time she makes that claim, Yui rebukes her. No. We try and save everyone. We save as many people as we possibly can. Like them or not, we go to save them, even at the risk of our own lives.

Saving victims is the most important thing.

And we see Kyoko learning from this in vol. 6 - we maybe can't win the sniper game, but we can try to keep everyone from getting on the island. (Except there are flaws in that plan which she quickly brings up.)

Kyoko doesn't pull Makoto into her investigations because then he would be at risk from the mastermind, made most blatant when Junko bops him on the head and steals the Hope's Peak yearbooks.

Junko is playing a game with Kyoko.

Makoto becomes alibi and bait.

DR3 and Kyoko's choice to sacrifice herself to save Makoto, even though he might not be able to figure things out, is an homage to Yui and what she learned from her.

(It's also her way of saying that she's tired of other people dying for her. That she's taking the bullet this time.)

This is how you recontextualize canon.

[honey-on-your-tongue]

Discipline

Series masterlist

Part six

Summary: Jake is sent to teach you discipline within the rules of the Omaticaya, from which you are constantly rebelling. Except...he finds unorthodox methods that get you to behave.

Warnings: besides the obvious smut. Uh, a little bit of masochistic and sadistic behavior. Daddy kink. A tad of angst. Sex as a solution (which it absolutely is NOT do not apply this to real life, babes). Jake being mean and a tad toxic??? Alright, I think that's about it.

Jake cannot and will not get enough of you. He's always around, always nearby, keeping a careful eye on you, more often than not wishing he could drag you away from whatever it is you're doing and fuck you dumb.

He still dreams of you. Constantly. Usually rough, hot, lustful dreams. Although lately, he's been having different dreams.

Dreams where you crawl on his lap and he just holds you, kissing your forehead and your cheeks and your lips while you tell him about your day.

Dreams where you're sitting on the top of the Hallelujah Mountains, watching as eclipse nears, and he's lying beside you, his head on your soft thighs, your gentle fingers caressing his hair.

Dreams where the sex isn't as rough and cruel as it usually is; dreams where it's slow and soft, where Jake peppers you with kisses and worships every inch of your body.

And these dreams scare him. He wakes up from them feeling warm all over, feeling like dancing and singing. And it enrages him. And the vulnerability disgusts him. It's enough to get him in a horrible mood for the rest of the day.

And it's one of those days today.

Your aim is perfect, position flawless, and your arrows haven't once missed the target.

And this frustrates him.

You don't need him now. You've fallen in with the clan. The Omaticaya are relieved to find your temper calmed, pleasantly surprised at your sudden disinterest in making their lives more difficult. They're at peace with you, and you are at peace with them.

You have no use for him anymore, he figures. So he's mean to you about it.

He pretends to correct your gait, exaggeratedly scoffs when you shoot the arrows, and he clicks his tongue whenever your arrow lands on the target, as if you were doing something wrong.

And it's bothering you. With every little sign of Jake's displeasure, your ears droop, your tail swinging anxiously, your fingers trembling.

Eventually, he's made you so nervous that your arrow completely misses the target. You turn to Jake, eyes full of fear, and he sighs heavily, relieving you from the bow.

“Alright, you've had 'nough for today,” he says gruffly. “Get some fuckin' rest and hopefully you'll do better tomorrow.”

Confused with his behavior and a little disappointed in yourself, you scuttle off, tears forming at the corners of your eyes.

You don't sleep that night.

Neither does Jake. He beats himself up over how he was with you. What's wrong with him? What's happening to him? What is going on?

You've done nothing wrong, but he behaves as if you had. Why would he do that to you? Why would he want to hurt you? You and all your amazing little traits...why is he like this?

The next day, he's out walking around the forest, not far from the Hometree, reflecting on his behavior when someone approaches him.

He glances up and sees a young woman, dressed in bright beads and a colorful loincloth, a bow in her hands and a few arrows in the quiver behind her back.

When Jake's eyes land on her, he nods in salute, and gets ready to walk in the opposite direction, but she calls after him, “Toruk Macto.”

He turns back to her. “Yes?”

“I was wondering if you could train me with the bow?” she asks, batting her eyelashes. “I'm struggling a little with my aim.”

Jake is about to decline, but then he realizes that it would be odd if he'd agreed to help you and not someone else. After all, his growing concerns have made him paranoid about what the rest of the clan expect from him and you. If he agreed to train you and not her, the people would know something's up, and he doesn't think he can handle that pressure.

“Uh, sure,” he says against his will.

The girl beams at him, moving to stand beside him and offering him a big look full of admiration. “You are so kind, Toruk Macto. Thank you for your help,” she says coquettishly, smiling coyly.

“It's no problem,” he mumbles, sighing softly at himself.

You walk out of the Hometree, wondering what happened to Jake yesterday. He was so cold, so cruel...He didn't fuck you, barely even touched you, and he was irritated the entire time.

Is he bored with me? you wonder. He said I was his...were they just empty words?

You're walking aimlessly, taking in the fresh air, the soft sounds of creatures around you. And then, somewhere in the distance, you hear a voice, low, quiet, terribly familiar.

Jake.

You can't help the way your heart races, or the sudden fluttering in your chest. Your footsteps are quick and light as you follow the sound of his voice, your blood thrumming in your ears.

You have to talk to him, have to clear the air between you two. All the questions you want to ask him are bubbling on the tip of your tongue, your ears perked toward the sound of Jake's voice.

You reach him with ease, seeing his broad shoulders through the foliage, his scent reaching your nose.

As you step out from between a few bushes, a second voice suddenly finds you, soft and tinkling, clearly flirtatious.

Your eyes land on a girl, dressed in pretty beads and a shiny loincloth, obviously dressed with purpose. She holds a bow at the ready, an arrow on the string, little giggles leaving her pretty lips.

“All y'gotta do is shoot,” Jake tells her.

Your heart sinks, feeling as if it were tearing into a million pieces. A scream of pain rushes up your throat, clawed fingers scratching up your chest as it attempts to claw out of you. But you silence it strenuously.

“Jake,” you say, your voice cracked and weak, small.

Jake's head jerks toward you, his eyes lighting up when they find yours, his tail swinging in glee.

But then he takes in your expression, the way your eyes grow glassy with tears, the way your lower lip trembles, your ears pinned back in betrayal. Your eyes flicker to the girl as she turns to look at you, confused as to why you're there, and Jake follows your gaze.

He sees her and then he understands.

“Baby—” he starts, not caring if this other girl hears, suddenly terrified that you'll leave.

You shake your head softly. “Uh, I-I just wanted to know what time we'd be training today?” you say, sniffilng, a tear or two cascading down your cheeks.

Jake feels his heart recoil in his chest, and he wants to punch himself.

Skxawng.

“Gimme a few more minutes here and I'll find you,” he promises, ears folding back.

You sniffle again, wiping your nose hastily and nodding. “Okay,” you say softly.

You walk away and Jake turns to the girl. “We're done here,” he tells her curtly, his voice full of authority.

The girl frowns. “But we've barely started and—”

“Don't care,” he growls. “Lessons are permanently over.”

Indignant, the girl scoffs, “What, you're leaving me to teach her?”

“Yes, I am,” Jake replies, glaring at the girl. “Go ask Tsu’tey for some lessons. He's much nicer than I am.”

Upset, the girl walks away and Jake remains for a moment, holding his head in his hands, hating himself for what he does to you.

That's it, then, you think. He's replacing me. I promised myself to him, and now he's looking for another girl because I'm not enough.

You're crying, sitting quietly by the stream, playing with a few pebbles along the shoreline. You gave yourself to him, you're his, but...is he yours?

No, you answer yourself. No, he's not. He's never said so, never admitted it. Never even mentioned being mine. He's free to belong to whomever he wants, and I'm forced to be his.

“Baby.”

You jump slightly, startled, and turn to find Jake. His expression softens when he sees your tears, and you rashly try to wipe them off.

He walks to you and sits beside you, his arms aching to hold you tight. He doesn't get the chance to speak. You're on him quickly, straddling his hips, your hands running up and down his muscled torso, your mouth quick to find his neck, licking stripes over his jaw.

Jake is taken aback, the weight of you on his lap makes him groan, and your warm core brushes against his cock through his loincloth. “Baby,” he murmurs, hands rising to grab your hips. “Baby. Easy, girl.”

You suck on his neck, one of your hands wandering past the edge of his loincloth, your fingers finding his thick, hardening cock.

“What's wrong, girl? What's the rush?” he questions, groaning as you run your thumb over the tip of his cock, gathering the precum that begins to drip.

You don't answer him. Your mouth kisses across his jaw, your hips roll against his, your hand jerking his cock.

Jake wants to argue, he wants to pull you off him and ask you what's wrong, but you get up and pull him to his feet before desperately getting on your knees.

Jake tries again. “Baby,” he says, grabbing your face in one of his hands as you quickly untie his loincloth. “Hey, look at me. What's—?”

You get his loincloth off and kiss the head of his cock, your big doe eyes staring up at him, your plump lips glistening with your saliva.

“Fuck,” Jake groans, dragging out the word, as you swirl your tongue over the tip. You work him up slowly, nails softly caressing up his underside, kissing your way down to his balls and back up, ensuring every inch of him is covered in your kisses and spit.

And Jake's mind is going blank. He can't think, can't focus when you're like this. You take him into your mouth, willingly gagging, tears spilling from your eyes and he can't fucking think. He wants to stop you, talk to you, solve this weirdness between you, but he just glances down at you and sees your tears and big eyes and wet lashes and—

“Goddamn, you gonna let me fill your fuckin' mouth with my cum, girl?”

“Mhmm,” you hum, glancing up at him through your thick lashes.

“Fuck, you're such a whore,” he groans, pushing your hair off your face, loving how your cheeks turn a soft pink as you struggle to breathe around his cock. “Didn't even let me get a word in 'fore you were all over me.”

You take him deeper, closing your eyes and gagging, struggling around his girth. One of your hands rises to softly caress Jake's engorged balls.

He moans lowly, throwing his head back, feeling the pleasure take over his senses. He knows you're upset at him, he knows there's something you two have to resolve, but the more you suck on his cock, the more the idea slips away until nothing is left but his quick-approaching orgasm.

Your delicate little mouth hurts, your jaw is sore, and you're on the verge of bursting into tears. But you refuse to give up. Your enthusiasm increases noticeably, and you begin whimpering on Jake's cock, which makes him shudder.

“Yeah, you want my cum, don't ya?“ He chuckles. “You're aching to have it all over you, hm? T' feel it in your pussy 'nd in this pretty little mouth of yours.”

You open your eyes, staring at him, and flutter your eyelashes.

Jake grins, full of ecstasy, and he pinches your cheek. You whine around him and he hisses, ears folding back and his sharp canines showing as he slightly bares his teeth at you. “Y're so good at that, sweet. This little mouth made just f'r my cock to fuck, hm?”

You gag again, struggling, as little tears drop from your eyes, staining your pretty face, making your eyes glisten.

Fuck, Jake likes watching you cry as you take his cock, in whatever hole he can stick it in. It makes him feral, all primitive instincts and no mercy. He has the urge to bite you, lick you, spank you and eat you out and fuck you until you pass out.

Fuck, he's down so bad for you.

“'m gonna fill your mouth, girl. And y're gonna swallow every last drop of m'cum, understand?”

You cry softly, sobbing on Jake's cock, as your tongue presses against his underside. Jake thrusts into your mouth a few more times before his load is spurting down your throat, flooding your mouth.

You pull away, releasing his cock from your mouth with a loud, wet pop, and you quickly swallow his salty seed. Jake's breathing heavily, chest rising and falling, ready to ask you once again what's going on when you pull him to get to the ground. The second he's on his knees in front of you, you undo your loincloth and climb on him, rubbing your cunt over his cock.

He groans, his hands on your hips, moving down to your ass and kneading the soft flesh there.

You grind yourself down on his cock, gasping into his ear, softly nibbling on his jaw. You rise your mouth to his, eyes watching his.

He glances down at your lips and runs his tongue over his own, inviting you to kiss him.

So you lean in, pressing a desperate, needy kiss to his mouth. It's nothing like the other kiss he gave you. This one is distant, different. It lacks whatever little spark the other one had. You moan against his tongue, purposely whining and mewling, your hips gyrating against his, distracting him from his thoughts.

Jake bites your lower lip softly, and when you slightly pull back, he takes the chance to say, “Talk to me, girl. What is it?”

With your eyes firmly on his, you lie on your back and spread your legs for him. Jake's predatory eyes fall to your cunt, his cock twitching at the sight.

But he can't. He has to ask you, has to clear things up...

You drag your fingers up your slit, arching your back, moaning softly before Jake. So close, just inches away. Your nipples are hard, peeking out of your beaded top, your breasts heaving up and down with every hurried breath.

He has to make sure you're okay...he has to say he's sorry for how he behaved...

“Daddy, please,” you mewl, big eyes begging for him. “Need it s'bad. Please, Daddy. Please give me your cock. Please. Use me.”

Jake's hands find your thighs and he softly pulls you to him. You wanted him to use you? He could do that with ease.

He's puts you in missionary, lifting your hips so that your ass is on his thighs, your legs wrapped around his hips. He sighs softly as he pushes into you, stretching you out.

You squeal, nails digging into his forearms as his hands hold your hips in place.

“Y'want me t'use you, girl?” he grunts out. “I'll use you. Use this tight pussy however I damn well please.”

He doesn't even give you time to adjust. His thrusts are deep and rough, painful but only in the right amount.

Still, the stretch hurts you, and it has you whining and crying, sobbing as he fucks you. You limit yourself to arching your back, trying not to focus on the pain.

“Daddy,” you sob. “Daddy.”

“Yeah, Daddy's takin' care 'f'you, girl,” Jake says, hips slamming into yours. “You gonna fuckin' let me or 're you gonna fuckin' complain 'bout it?”

“Daddy,” you gasp. “Daddy. Just use me, Daddy.”

“Yeah, that's what I'm fuckin' doin'.”

You move one of your hands to your clit, rubbing little circles on it in hopes that it'll help you take Jake's huge cock.

The thing is, you actually kind of like the pain. You like how Jake's cock forces you open, you like the ache, like how the big tip bruises your cervix, like the way his hips crash into yours.

Somewhere along the way, the pain and pleasure mix and become one. You don't know which one is predominant, you just know that the feeling is overwhelming, and it makes you shake and cry.

“Y're close, aren't you?” Jake mocks when he feels you grow taut around him, your eyes fluttering shut, your body quaking.

“Mm! Yes! Yes!” you reply, hating how much he knows you. “Daddy! Please!”

“Yeah, you wanna come? You want Daddy t'make y'come?”

“Please!” you beg, hips stuttering against his.

“Well, you're gonna give me somethin' in return 'f y'want me to let you come,” he tells you. He lies you down, your back against the ground, your ass sliding off his thighs and landing on the soft grass. As Jake climbs on top of you, he grabs your braid. “'f y'want Daddy t'make you come on his cock, girl, y've gotta gimme tsaheylu, yeah?”

You close your eyes and nod. He connects your braid to his and you gasp, shaking, your hips already bucking up in dire need of his harsh thrusts.

Jake can feel how bad you want him, how close your orgasm is, but he can also sense something else. Something buried deep, hidden under layers and layers. Still, he can feel its slight presence, cold and sad, and it seems to be haunting over your mind.

But your lust is the main sensation that rushes to him through the bond, and that, he can do something about.

He resumes his arduous thrusts, making you sob, back arching. You lift one of your hands to your breast, pinching your nipple and moaning. You're shuddering under him, a mess of tears and sweat and arousal.

Jake considers kissing you, decides he's going to, and begins leaning down toward you. But you move your face to the side, avoiding his mouth, and something in Jake breaks a little.

You close your eyes, needy and whining, one of your hands finding your clit again and being rough in the way you touch yourself.

Jake can feel you're close. Your orgasm is peeking over the edge, reaching for you, and he decides he'll at least give you this.

He makes you come, makes you cry his name and shake. You're absolutely breathless and weak as he thrusts a few more times inside of you and finally releases, his cum staining your puffy cunt.

Jake presses his face to the crook of your neck, kissing over your pulse, licking the sweat off your skin.

And then you start crying—really crying. Whimpering and sobbing, your body shaking.

Alarmed, Jake rises his eyes to look at your face, but you've got your eyes closed and your hands find his shoulders to push him off of you.

He quickly pulls out of you, sitting up and pulling you up with him.

“Baby,” he says, his voice shaking. “Baby, what's wrong?”

Tsaheylu is still made, and Jake can feel your sadness. Just like you can feel his fear. It distracts you, makes you more nervous, so you end up breaking the bond by removing your braid from his.

Jake can feel your loss. He's carved a space for you in his heart, his mind, his soul. And you've just removed yourself from it, leaving nothing but a void behind.

“Baby, tell me what's wrong,” Jake asks, holding you on his lap, his arms around your waist.

You wipe your face, trying to stop the crying, trying to hide from him. He grabs your hands in his, holding your arms away from your face. He kisses your cheek, over the many trails your tears have left.

“Just tell me, girl,” he pleads quietly. He sounds so small...so vulnerable. “However you want to, just tell me.”

Between thick sobs and little sniffles, you cry, “You're replacing me, Jake! I'm yours, but you're free to belong to whomever you want. You-you don't think I'm enough. You're out looking for another toy already and I—'s not fair to me! You can choose anyone else! But for me, there-there's only you, Jake! I only have you!”

Jake folds his ears back in shame. How could he have fucked up enough for you to believe that? How much of an asshole could he have been to make you think that?

“Baby—” Jake starts, cooing softly.

“Don't leave me!” you beg, sobbing. “P-please! I'll be good! I'm good! I-I'll improve my aim, Jake! I'll fix my manners! I...I'll let you fuck me whenever you want! I'll let you use me! Y-you can do whatever you want to me. Just, please, don't leave me!”

Jake sighs softly, his heart breaking in his chest. “Is that why you wanted to fuck, sweet? 'Cause you wanted to convince me to stay?”

You sob, nodding weakly. Your tear-filled eyes glance at the ground, avoiding his gaze.

“Baby,” he coos, grabbing your chin in his hand and drawing your eyes up to his. “I'm not going to leave you. I never even planned on it, girl.” He sighs gently. “I'm sorry I made you feel like that, baby. You're mine, as much as I'm yours. I can't belong to anyone else 'cause I'm yours. I belong to you, girl. My mind, my body and my soul are yours, baby.”

You sniffle. “But that other girl—”

“Is no one,” he cuts it. “She wanted me to teach her to shoot an arrow, but it's damn well impossible. I can't teach her shit because everything she does seems wrong to me. Everything she does is off because she doesn't do it like you. She's not you, baby. There's no one in this fucking world that can compare to you. And that's what's wrong with everyone else. If they're not you, I don't fucking want them. Y'understand me? All I want is you. You, you, you. And it's not only about your body, girl. It's not just about you being my toy. You're more than that to me. I-I don't really know how to explain it, but you're part of me now. Without you, I just...feel something's missin'. I won't ever leave you, baby. I'll be yours forever, my girl.”

Your eyes study his carefully. “Y'promise?”

“Cross my heart, baby,” he replies, placing a kiss on your forehead. “I'm such an asshole. Baby, I'm sorry. I...should've told you sooner. I should've made it clear that I'm yours. Should've shown you how I felt. I'm so fuckin' sorry.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, leaning your head on his shoulder, your crying ceasing. “'s okay,” you mumble. “I forgive you.”

Jake hugs you, squeezing you softly. “Thank you, baby,” he mumbles. “I don't know what I woulda done if I'd lost you.”

A while later, once you've calmed down, Jake helps you get dressed again. And after dressing himself he takes you on a small walk, wandering amongst the foliage and talking about anything you want to. Your spirits improve significantly, and as you grow more comfortable around him, Jake realizes something he's pretty sure he's known for a while now.

I...I'm in love.

@who-is-ej @jake-sullys-whore @sweetllamaparadise @erenjaegerwifee @kamcrazy123

————

I have absolutely no words for this I was just feeling mushy and fluffy and I needed comfort in daddy Jake 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️ I hope y'all enjoyed it!!!

[metisket]

book recs request ❤🖤❤🖤 🙏🙏🙏 in this case, book recs that you feel have inspired your writing style, or inspired your fics somehow?

Hmmm...this is a fun one but a tough one, because I'm not sure I'm really self-aware enough to know the true answer here. But I'll try! A lot of books/authors I believe shaped my writing style did it when I was pretty young, so we're getting some YA over here.

Robin McKinley

I must have read The Outlaws of Sherwood a dozen times between ages 10 and 15. I love me a hero who literally doesn't want to be here and got conned into this by pushy, well-meaning friends. Marian was the most badass Marian I'd ever encountered. Random, complicated, weird side-characters, my beloved. Cecily somehow speaking directly to whatever was unhinged about my own childhood feelings about my gender. Flawless, 10/10, should really re-read to see if it holds up.

This is not to minimize the ridiculous number of times I read The Hero and The Crown, The Blue Sword, Beauty, and Deerskin, because I also read them So Many Times that they've probably become a part of my psyche. Literally none of her heroes want to be heroes. But they've been informed that they are. Apparently. Ugh. Love to hate that for them.

Lloyd Alexander

I also re-read The Chronicles of Prydain at least once a year for many years. It has almost certainly messed with my mind. I was especially unhinged about The Castle of Llyr, because Princess Eilonwy. The best, the worst, the angriest princess. Love and respect. Taran I could take or leave, particularly during his Taran Wanderer phase (I was less sympathetic to his growing pains than I was to Eilonwy's), but The High King was a fantastic payoff, loved everything, no notes.

...Damn, I need to reread this series, also.

Lois McMaster Bujold

I didn't read The Vorkosigan Saga until college, but it immediately hit my brain hard. Fantastic characterization. The way she writes trauma and recovery from trauma, amazing.

Miles. What a character. What a mess. What a problem. He is only a little guy, literally and figuratively, and he's going to do his best to convince you that he didn't mean to offend that guy, set that building on fire, or end that empire. You know. Like a liar.

Sarah Rees Brennan

My number one fanfic influence--her style of writing is so delightful that, particularly when writing Harry Potter fic, I'd sometimes find myself paraphrasing her. I had to Sarah Rees Brennan-proof my fic to make sure I wasn't being an accidentally plagiarist, because her turns of phrase would just go subliminal in my brain. This honestly may still be happening, and if it is, I'm so sorry, Sarah, it's not on purpose.

My favorite of her books is In Other Lands, the story of a boy who is whisked away to magic school in magic land and is extremely annoyed to find himself there. Like why. Why is the plumbing medieval. Why don't phones work. Why is this magical Sparta.

...He's not wrong, is the thing. But he won't bend and he won't break and he won't leave, so apparently he's just going to have to fix the world himself. God help everyone! Love him. Love his friends. Love the entire world and setup and every single side character.

Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman

I have been informed that you can see the Pratchett and Gaiman influences in my writing. I think this is a lie people have told me to make me feel better, but you know, I Want To Believe. So I'll include them.

Pratchett: Love for virtually the entire Discworld series, with an especially fondness for the Watch books and Susan. Still obsessed with Vetinari after all these years. What if Machiavelli but chill, though.

Gaiman: Lost track of how many times I've reread Sandman. The characters, the coolness, the weirdness, the meta! Especially obsessed with Death. Just someone being very calm and collected in the face of all kinds of horrifying nonsense. I admire that. Love nearly all of his books, but my favorite is probably Anansi Boys. Bet your stupid family drama doesn't involve gods. Or at least. I hope it doesn't.

Erin Morgenstern

I'm cheating by including her, because she didn't actually influence my writing, I just WISH SHE HAD. She can't, sadly, because my outline game will never be that strong. I know my limits. But DAMN. ENVY.

Both of her books are without flaw, but I did love The Night Circus just that little bit more, probably because I am weak to a circus. I firmly recommend The Starless Sea also, though, because it features an Unhinged Library. The characters and settings and descriptions--delightful.

But the best part is the WAY the stories are told. They're not chronological--they're like little intricate puzzle-boxes, where you open one panel, and there's a story, and you open another panel, and there's a different story, and by the fifth panel, there's a story that connected to the first panel, but also a little to the third panel, and--

LOOK, I CAN'T EVEN DESCRIBE IT. It should be confusing, but it isn't. It's perfect. Just the right amount of information at the perfect time connecting to other pieces of information in a complex, interesting, deeply satisfying way. I would kill to be able to do this. Kill. I actually tried to do this in 'Mirror Image', and I had to give it up, because the level of incoherence was off the charts. ffffffffffff howwwww does she dooooo eeeeeet.

Anyway, I think those are the big ones. Special mentions to: Tom Holt, a deeply weird writer who strongly influenced one fic in particular (Some Confusion, DGM), Patricia C. Wrede, because Dealing with Dragons in general and Cimorene in particular got to me, and Dennis Lehane, because a) his historical fiction is inspiring, and b) I love his handling of The Unhinged Friend in the Patrick and Angie books. The best unhinged friend. He booby traps his own home. Love him. What is wrong with him? We'll never know.

[stoopsbookstore]

Kinktober Day 6 (10/06/2019)

Kinks - Pecattiphilia (fetish for sinning and breaking religious rules) & Exhibitionism (fetish for performing sexual acts or being naked in front of others)

Warning - Minor Character Death, Blood warning, Part 3 of the Demon!Taeil series

"I think I've been possessed."

Taeil looked at the gentleman in front of him, his body drenched in sweat as pain overcome his body like lava was in his veins.

"I'm in so much pain being in here right now, but I figured it was worth the agony if I was about to talk to you," Taeil keeled over, his face unseen by the pastor, who showed sympathy from Taeil by placing his hand on the young male's shoulder.

"Dear son, you'll need to be exorcised, cleanse yourself, but we must make sure," the pastor removed his hand from Taeil, walking over to a small ornate bowl holding some holy water.

The pastor filled up a cup with the special liquid, turning to Taeil not on the front row, an empty church presenting itself to the godly man.

"Son? Are you still there?" An echo in the spacious area, a tap on the pastor's shoulder startling him, spinning around to a red-eyed Taeil and a slit throat.

"You poor, naive bastard. Believing every sad soul you see, you can save," Taeil licked the blood off his knife, tucking back in his pocket, all the lights in the church going out.

Taeil took his phone out of his pocket, texting Y/N, asking to facetime. His eyes going back to normal, the line rang three times until Taeil was met with Y/N's voice.

"Hey you, what's up?"

"Nothing much, just walking around town. I found this cool church, would you like to meet me here?"

"Is this going to be another late night haunted house situation where all the other guys come and Chenle almost gets his foot cut off?"

"I was thinking more of a 'fuck you on the preacher stand' if that's okay with you," Taeil flashed his signature smile, Y/N's laughter heard from the speaker, "it's been a month since we last slept together."

"And? That is breaking like every sin in the bible."

"Good."

"Can't you just come over?"

"What's fun about missionary in a bed? Isn't Rena home?"

Y/N sighed. Taeil was right, her roommate was home and they couldn't do much with her there and interrupting them.

"Just send me your address and I'll be there as soon as I can."

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

Twenty minutes later, Y/N met Taeil, her purposely short and low-cut dress was covered by a cardigan, Taeil whispering as he walked up to her.

"Hey miss," Taeil circled Y/N, his hand playing with the hem of her skirt, "could you tell me where my friend is? She's beautiful, her body is amazing and her mouth is to die for."

Y/N playfully shoved Taeil, "I could ask the same about you, Mr. Insatiable Sex Drive."

"What can I say?" Taeil grabbed Y/N's arm, pulling her to the preacher's stand, the only light source dim candles around them, "you awakened something inside me."

Taeil sat on the stool behind the podium, palming at his pants, keeping track of Y/N walking, staring at the candles and admiring the stained glass artwork.

"I've always thought stained glass were beautiful pieces, they're stunning in the morning."

"I think I'm looking at the most beautiful piece right now," Taeil signaled for Y/N to come over to him, the girl walking over him, gliding her hands over the prominent bulge.

"Oh yeah?" Y/N leans in for a kiss, Taeil happily obligating, "tell me more."

"Her eyes are the brightest you've ever seen. The color memorizing," Taeil stood up, switching spots with Y/N.

"Her skin, flawless no matter what tries to ruin it," Taeil took Y/N's cardigan, throwing it on one of the pews, moving the straps of the dress to trace his lips down her shoulders.

"Open or closed, her smile puts all the models and Instagram whores in the world to shame," his voice going deeper, Taeil's hands cupping Y/N's breasts, "look out to the pews. Imagine all of the seats filled, all of those Jesus heads staring at the sinful display, my cock in you."

"Oh my God, Taeil, keep going," Y/N shut her eyes, Taeil reaching between her legs with one of his hands, his eyes going red.

"Let me move this podium, princess, show all of our friends," Taeil took his hands away, moving the obstruction, Y/N opening her eyes, seeing some of Taeil's friends sitting in the pews.

"Is tha-" Y/N's words were cut off by Taeil, kneeling in front of her, burying his face into her panties.

"Johnny, Doyoung, Taeyong, Jaehyun, Kun, Ten, even a few of your friends, Joshua, Jun, Seonghwa and finally, that pest, Yuta. Always all over you," Taeil started to eat Y/N out through the fabric, nipping and licking the barrier, "I know how much you love having an audience."

Taeil took off his shirt, revealing a dried pentagram he drew using the blood of the pastor, guiding Y/N to the center of the pastor stand.

"Y/N, lay down," Taeil gently commanded her, his seductress jokingly getting on all fours, wiggling her ass while turning to get on her back, Taeil spanking her, "beautiful, naughty goddess, all mine. I changed my mind, don't lay down, get up on your knees."

Y/N felt Taeil unzipping her dress, helping her to her knees, Y/N shimmying out of the dress, leaving her in her bra and panties in front of the crowd.

"You love the thrill of being watched, in the house of God," Taeil growled in Y/N's ear, Y/N moaning as the people in the pews started feeling their pants grow uncomfortable, "they're all aware, they even came willingly. Would you believe people are actually attracted to the dark, the taboo, the unusual?"

Y/N listened to Taeil whisper in her ears, Taeil smearing a liquid on her stomach, his clean hand making its way up to Y/N's neck.

"I know you know I'm not a human anymore, Y/N and yet you stay," Taeil's hand tightened on Y/N's neck, "is it the danger of knowing what I'm capable of?"

Y/N shook her head, the wetness in her panties getting uncomfortable, tubbing her thighs together in a vain attempt to satisfy a little bit of the discomfort, Taeil spreading her legs apart.

"What is that then," Taeil pulled Y/N closer to him, his chest fully flushed to her back, his pants at his ankles as he rubbed his cock inbetween Y/N's thighs, "is it the power that I have? The protection of having a demon on your side?"

Y/N sighed in content as Taeil found his answer.

"I'll always be here for you, my princess," Taeil turned Y/N's face to kiss her, "I won't ever leave. How long have you known?"

"Last time we were together, at the club," Y/N dreamily smiled, thinking about the moment, "when you shot that one guy, he was clearly a demon. Something had to have happened to you, you normally would've tried to talk the guy down before even thinking about harming him."

Y/N reached behind her to put her arm around Taeil's neck, the demon making some sort of noise in acknowledgement.

"So a month. When were you going to tell me?" Taeil began to prep Y/N, his fingers penetrating her as her squeal filled the church, half of the audience staring while the other had started to play with themselves.

"I was waiting for you to tell me," Y/N giggled, Taeil, in a rare soft moment, nuzzling into her neck, "it was your secret, you would've shared it with me when you felt comfortable."

Taeil finally pushed into Y/N, a lengthy groan coming out of him and out of Y/N, a high-pitched moan.

"You always feel so good, whether it's my fingers or cock," Taeil begun to hump Y/N, thrusting at an angle that drove her insane right away, "the best I've ever had in 25 years."

Y/N looked out the pews, all of the boys now masturbating as Taeil fucked her, Johnny focused on pumping his cock, Kun watching Taeil's thrusts go in and out of Y/N, Ten arched up into his hand.

"Fuck, Il-ie," Y/N dugged her nails into Taeil's thighs, an intense feeling going through her, "keep going, push me as far as you can."

Taeil grunted, pulling out of her as she quietly whimpered at the loss. Taeil kicked off his pants and disappeared, leaving Y/N alone in front of their 'fans.'

Taeil came back after a few minutes, blood coating his arms as he brought out the pastor he killed earlier.

"You want me to go rough, Y/N?" Taeil looked at Y/N, her reaction indiscernible as he gently angled her chin up, "If you don't want me to do so, tell me now. I don't want you to regret anything past this point."

Y/N eyed the corpse, the shock of seeing Taeil covered in blood, the pentagram now dripping, wearing off as she stood up, unclipping her bra and dropping it to the side. Walking to Taeil, she gave him a sensitive kiss.

"Do whatever you want."

Taeil's eyes went full blood red, the pupils gone as he picked Y/N up like a feather, kissing her breasts and using the blood to draw a circle on her chest.

"This is your last chance, princess," Taeil asked a final time, Y/N's arms limp around his shoulders, looking for sign of hesitation, "will you be okay?"

"Yes."

Taeil finished the pentagram, an upside down star, as Y/N felt a sense of protection over her body. Taeil again penetrated Y/N, the boys in the crowd watching as Taeil begun to bounce Y/N in his arms, her ass on full display.

"No one will ever fuck with you again," Taeil began to chant, keeping his face in Y/N's breasts, singing praising of her as her moans became squeals and screams, the members of the audience starting to make a mess of themselves, Yuta being the first to orgasm, "I'm gonna make your mine."

"Taeil, make me yours, I'm all yours," Y/N whispered in the demon's ear, her hand tagging at his hair, "I don't want to be with anyone else other than you."

"You're stuck with me," a breathy laugh coming from Taeil, "we belong to each other now."

Y/N's eyes were shut again, her orgasm erupting from her as Taeil continued his dirty talk.

"All mine, no one else's," Taeil came in Y/N, the white liquid making its way out of her princess, the pair catching their breaths, Y/N's head resting on Taeil's shoulder, both sweaty and bloody.

A few moments passed, Taeil still holding Y/N, gently rubbing her back as those who were in the seats of the church were all asleep now. Taeil waved his hand, the boys fully clothed and cleaned as they woke up and walked out of the glass door, the boys having a vauge idea what happened. Taeil's cock still inside her, cum dripping onto the floor, he clenched his hand, opening it to reveal a box, Y/N's eyes widening at the surprise.

"Will you be my queen?"