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lou-struck · 2 months

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Made With Love Part 2

OM Brothers & Datables x reader pt.2

Featuring Special parts with Lucifer, Mammon, and Leviathan.

MASTERLIST COMING SOON!!!

Part 1 Here

~ As the Room erupts in chaotic, love-drunk chatter. Luke tries desperately to figure out what is going on, meanwhile you finally show up to the party late and confused.

WC: 6.7k

Warnings: Love Potion based personality changes, obsessive behaviors, feelings of self doubt, possible accidental drowning attempt, mention of suggestive behavior, lots of teasing, kissing, touching, etc.

a/n: Wow! This is turning into a much longer project than I thought It was going to be. I love how this is developing and I hope you guys are interested too. If you would like to be tagged in the next chapters comment below!

"Look at this one Satan." Lucifer giggles happily, kicking his feet on the sofa. The screen of his DDD is illuminated with a picture of you as the Avatar of Pride leans up against his younger brother and brings the image closer to his blush-covered cheeks.

Satan's eyes are as large as saucers as he takes in the picture. "This is the bestest picture ever." he gasps in entranced delight, not a single thought in his head other than you.

"That's what ya said about the last twenty pictures." Mammon laughs from the other side of him. "But I get it. Mc is soooo amazing. I could look at their cute face all day long."

Luke watches as the three brothers swipe to the next picture in Lucifer's album and sigh lovingly.

Asmodeus shyly creeps up behind his brothers, his eyes brimming with curiosity. Strange spell or not, cute photos of you have always been his kryptonite. Mammon notices his presence and gives his brother a smile. "Cmmere Asmo, don't be shy; there's more than enough pictures of Mc to go around."

How generous…

But when the Avatar of Lust gets closer to take an eager glimpse at the picture, he gasps and takes a flustered step back. His face turns beet red, and smoke looks like it's about to come out from his ears when he sees the (fairly tame) photo of swimsuit-clad you.

"T-that is so inappropriate." he cries, covering his eyes and running away with an off-balanced stumble as if he was the one who took you shopping for the suit, sat back and watched you try on outfit after outfit, and insisted on rubbing sunscreen all over you once you made it to the beach.

Asmo runs away from his other brothers. But they don't seem to notice. They just continue gushing about how cute you are.

Aside from those troublemakers, Luke scans the room to see how everyone else is acting under the effects of the spell or whatever it was that found its way into the sugar cookies.

From a lonely window-side chair, Beel looks out the window like he is a little puppy. His face, a deep pout as he waits for your arrival. He looks too distressed to even look at the overflowing table of food.

Belphie is energetically pacing about the room, too excited to see you to even think about being tired.

Speaking of tired, Barbatos sluggishly leans against the door mumbling to himself about how opening the handle is just too much work for him right now.

Levi and Simeon begin arguing loudly in the center of the room. They are standing chest to chest, staring each other down with dark, possessive expressions.

"Don't get me wrong, Simeon, I may have admired your work in the past, but now the only fandom I want to be a part of is Mc's." Levi's hand comes to rest on the Angel's shoulder in a condescending manner.

There is a darkness to Simeon that is quite unnerving as he removes Levi's hand. His face is a cruel mask of disgust. "Why would anyone want to spend time with someone like you?" Instead of flinching or looking away in shame, Levi stares the Angel down as if daring him to say more, which Simeon obliges. "Especially Mc. How about you be a good little demon and leave us be?"

"Don't make me laugh you freaking Normie. Why would Mc want to spend time with you?"

Luke pales as Diavolo steps up to join the argument.

"No one will be spending time with Mc today," he says in an authoritarian tone. "The poor thing will be exhausted when they arrive, so I personally will be tending to them."

Both the Angel and the Avatar of Envy grow quiet, glancing between one another and the Prince before boisterously laughing in his face.

"What's so funny?" He asks, narrowing his eyes. The Hearts in his pupils looking remarkably out of place on his regal features. "Do you not think me capable of caring for Mc?"

"Ahh yes, the Prince born with a silver spoon in his mouth is the most qualified to care for a human." The sarcasm in Simeon's voice chills the room as everyone's conversations come to a halt.

The Demon's nostrils flare, and he crosses his arms over his chest. "Believe me, Simeon, I am more than capable of caring for them."

"Shall we prove it?" Simeon coo's, his voice laced with condescension. "How about each of us go our separate ways to spend time with Mc. Once they have had their share of each of us, we can ask them who they enjoyed their time with the most today."

"It's obviously going to be me." Levi declares as the others gather around.

"Why can't we jus’ share em?" Mammon wonders aloud. "Mc is so amazing they can spend time with all of us."

Luke spots Asmo taking a worried step backward. "A-alone? W-with Mc?" he stutters. "I- don't know if I am ready for that. I gotta go and get ready."

"Hey, he's getting a head start on us. I won't lose." Belpheghor calls as he rushes from the room after his brother.

It's a madhouse as the rest of them push past each other to claim their spot for a date with you. But as Solomon tries to creep off, he is stopped by the little Angel who grabs his cape. "Not you, Solomon. If you know what is going on with everyone, you have to tell me," he says exasperatedly.

"Oh, Mc is going to hate meeee." Solomon cries as the others disappear behind the doors.

Luke shudders as he uncomfortably feels how clammy the human's skin is. Judging by the deep blush on his cheeks and how clumsily he stumbles behind the little Angel, he is clearly under the same spell as the rest of them.

"Solomon, what is going on?" He questions the teary-eyed Sorcerer in the most authoritative tone he can manage. He even tries to invoke the same confident, commanding tone that Lucifer uses to control the room by crossing his arms and trying his best to look displeased.

But in all reality, he just looks confused. And that pout only makes him look constipated as Solomon keeps rambling on and on about how you will never love him because he ruined yet another Valentine's Day for you. He is so fixated on you, it's like Luke is not even there.

Luke takes a deep breath in and clenches his little fists into tight balls of tension. He knows he needs to relax so he can fix the problem in front of him and save the day.

Save your day…

"Solomon!" he yells, tugging the Sorcerer's dark blue cape for attention. "Why is everyone acting so strange? They are more obsessed with Mc than usual and are acting differently."

Solomon's heart-shaped pupils dilate as if hearing someone say your name is a drug to him. But he is coherent enough to answer Luke's question. "D-did you use one of the bowls in my lab?" he asks softly; he nervously fiddles with his fingers, never actually looking Luke in the eye.

"Yeah, I saw my light blue one on the counter, and it looked clean, so I used it."

Solomon's eyes go wide in alarm as they flicker to the doors of the banquet hall. "The Potion," he breathes, stepping back against the wall and sliding it down in embarrassment. Luke flinches briefly, that impact sounded painful but Solomon doesn't seem to notice it at all. He tucks his knees to his chest in an almost childlike fashion.

If he hadn't seen him eat the cookies, Luke would not believe that the trembling, flustered man in front of him is the infamous Human Sorcerer Solomon the Wise. "I-I did it again…" his voice comes out muffled from his arms. "I ruined Valentine's Day."

Despair courses through Luke's veins like glacier water. "What do you mean? What Potion?"

Solomon gulps and looks up from his spot on the ground.

"A few weeks ago, I was out at a used book store with Satan and Mc…." The mere mention of your name is enough for the Sorcerer's blush to intensify, and he begins to lose focus.

"Hey, Keep going…" Luke encourages urgently. "What did you find at the bookstore?"

Solomon blinks down at Luke as if he had just noticed his presence. "Oh yes, the bookstore. I just went the other day with Satan and…"

"WHAT DID YOU BUY?" he interrupts before the Sorcerer can say your name and get lost in the effects of whatever was in that frosting.

"It was an old recipe guide for making love potions." He answers. "One of the recipes in particular stuck out to me. When consumed, it amplifies feelings of affection for the person they love most along with a few interesting side effects."

A deep shudder runs down Luke's spine. He accidentally gave all his friends a love potion. He looks at Solomon's ruddy cheeks and hazy eyes. Are these some of the side effects. If he is going to learn anything else about the potion, he better ask his last question before the human runs off to prepare his own alone time with you.

"What kind of side effects?

A dry, cold wind slices across your face as you run towards the castle gates. Luke's DDD lies securely in your hand as you try to think of the best way to word your apology for being late to the party.

You are already wondering how Lucifer will scold you for your tardiness. Just imagining that handsome smirk on his prideful lips makes you feel a mixture of both anticipation and annoyance swishing around your gut.

But all in all, you are ecstatic. You get to spend the day with all of your favorite people, eating sweets, playing games, and enjoying what Valentine's Day has to offer.

There's a spring in your step as you make it to the first of the stone stairs of the palace. But before you can move any further, you watch as Luke runs from the Castle towards you.

"Wait, don't go in there." He says frantically, waving his arms

"Why?" you ask. "don't tell me I missed the party already."

The color drains from the Angel's face, somethings wrong. "it's not… I'm so sorry Mc. I ruined everything."

Your reassuring smile is quick as you place a hand on the Angel's shoulder to calm him down. "Whatever it is you think you did, I'm sure it's not that bad. Luke, do you want to tell me what happened?"

He looks at you and takes a deep breath. "When I was making the cookies, I used a bowl from Solomon's lab that contained some kind of love potion. Right when I set the tray down at the party, it was like everyone was drawn to them. They ate them, and now they just won't stop talking about you, and they're acting strange."

You blink in surprise; out of all the things to come out of Luke's mouth, you were not expecting this. But honestly, after living in the Devildom for a little bit you have developed a wonderful attitude for dealing with these unexpected situations.

"Strange how?" You ask curiosity and worry evident in your voice.

"They are acting completely different. It's like their love for you has changed their personalities. Lucifer is all giggly, Barbatos is super tired, and Simeon… Well, let's just say he's not being that nice."

"Oh dear," you breathe. Luke was just starting to get used to things down here. This love potion fiasco must really be traumatizing the poor guy. "Is there a cure?"

"I-I think so." Luke furrows his brow. "I was trying to get some details from Solomon before he started acting love-drunk like the rest of them. And he said he got it from a book. Before I could ask him anything else, he ran off. Apparently, they all wanted to claim a spot in the Castle to spend some time with you."

You nod thoughtfully, the wheels in your head turning as you formulate a plan. With everyone scattered about the Castle, you will definitely have to check on each guy individually, but other than that, at least you know that they aren't going to be actively arguing with each other, "If we can find that book, I bet there is a page of antidotes we can make. You head back to Purgatory Hall and I'll go inside and make sure everyone stays where they are. If we play along with what they want right now, it will be easier."

He looks concerned, "are you sure you should go in there by yourself?" For all his worrying, you know he has a point; if everyone is acting unpredictable, you will have to be on your guard. They may still love you, but even on their best days, these guys can be a bit possessive.

Reassuringly, you give the Angel your best smile and send him on his way. "There is nothing to worry about. You go find the book, and I'll make sure that everyone here is okay."

He nods bravely, "I'll go right away. But if you need any help, call me; I want to make sure they don't try anything crazy."

He rushes off, and you take a deep breath. The moon casts a long shadow on your figure as you climb the steps. You hate to admit it, but you are actually more amused with this situation than worried. You know in your heart that this situation will be resolved.

Curiously, you wonder how the potion seems to be affecting each one of your loved ones.

Maybe all these themed chaotic events that have taken place in the Devildom have messed with your head a little bit, but nevertheless, you find yourself smiling to yourself.

This could be fun.

Lucifer ~

The Castle has never felt more empty. The dark halls are eerily quiet, and the grand, empty chambers echo the sounds of your light footsteps in every direction. You recall Diavolo saying that since the Valentine's Day celebration was planned to be an intimate affair for you, he had sent the entirety of his staff home to enjoy the holiday with their loved ones.

You thought that was really admirable, but now you wish that at least one of the little D's was around to help you find your way. There are easily a thousand rooms in this place, and you have 11 cursed individuals to find.

You pass the empty banquet room where the party should've been held; something about the full table of food unsettles you. If Beel isn't crouched over the charcuterie table, stuffing cubes of otherworldly cheese into his mouth like a chipmunk, this love potion thing may be pretty darn serious.

Throughout the quietness, a light sound reaches your ears. It may be horror movie logic, but you follow the sound down the hallway until you reach a stone room with a stained glass ceiling. In the center of the room lies a beautiful indoor fountain. The crystal clear water flows enchantingly into the carefully carved basin. The steady ambiance is soothing, it invites you closer so you may admire the mosaic of jewels embedded into the column.

Suddenly, two strong arms wrap around your waist. The warm embrace makes you jump and let out a yelp of fear as you try to wiggle yourself out.

Just as you wind up your elbow to drive it into your attacker's ribcage, you hear a happy chuckle against your ear that makes you freeze your attack. "You're here cutie, I knew you would find me."

"Lucifer?" you breathe. "Is that you?"

"Yea~, I just missed you so much." gone is his usual serious tone. Now, his voice sounds giddy with excitement, and you feel at ease. Your shoulders slump as the Avatar of Pride nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck.

Although you are safe, his hold on you is like a vice. There is hardly any space between the two of you as you turn around to get a good look at him. When you two are chest to chest, he lifts his head. Beautiful strands of his dark hair fall in front of his eyes in a messy but not entirely unbecoming way.

His cheeks are flushed a baby pink color as you take in his simple, lovestruck smile. It looks so unserious you want to burst out laughing. But the thing that really sticks out to you is the strange heart shape his pupils have taken. The black hearts against his deep crimson eyes is captivating to behold.

"You're so cute," he whispers loudly, even though it's just the two of you in the room together. You don't miss the way he seems to sway unsteadily in front of you in an almost tipsy manner.

So this is what Luke meant by 'Love Drunk.'

"So are you." you smile; usually, this kind of compliment is not one that he would typically accept, but thanks to this sweet and very touchy disposition brought on by the love potion, he just giggles and holds you tighter. "How about we try and find some of the others so we can have our party?"

"No," he states abruptly; the look of hurt on his face tugs at your heartstrings, and you almost want to apologize to him. He looks down at you with glassy eyes that are brimming with tears. This unusual sight reminds you of your current mission.

When he notices the worry on your face, the tears begin to cascade down his cheeks and become one with the fountain. "I'm sorry for yelling at you," he murmurs with a small voice. "I just love you so much. Why do you want to find the others? Stay with me. Please?"

Lucifer's lack of pride is astonishing. He clings to your arm as if you are about to turn into smoke and vanish into thin air.

What if we held hands while we looked?" you offer the Demon. His eyes light up at the prospect, but you know you'll need to offer a bit more than that if you are going to be able to leave this room to look for the others.

"We can hold hands in here," he whines toying with your fingers as if they are the most fascinating things in the world. He smoothes the pad of his thumb over the glossy coat of nail polish Asmodeus painted last night and looks at you with puppy dog eyes.

"What about a kiss then?" you ask

That love-drunk smile returns to light up his features once more at the prospect once more. "A kiss?"

"Yes," you say. "If we can leave this room to find the others, then you can have all the kisses you want."

The offer is tempting and you see the contemplation in his eyes. If he says yes, he'll get what his heart has been calling for, but then he won't get as much attention from you. He can hardly remember what the others are doing right now. All he can think of is you, you, you.

He nods excitedly. "Please, please kiss me Mc. I'll do whatever you want."

You smile victoriously as he cups your face. There is so much love in his gaze as he meets your eyes. "Beautiful," he whispers before leaning in close to you.

Your eyes shut as his warm breath fans your face. Potion or no potion, he kisses you like he always does, heartfelt and tenderly. His lips are soft against yours as he steals away that pesky breath of yours.

You find your head in the clouds, not wanting to pull away from this for even a moment.

But surprisingly, he pulls away first. Your eyes shoot open as you see him run a hand through his hair. His eyes blink tiredly as they look at you with round pupils.

"Mc? What just happened?" he asks, "I remember being at the party and then…" He pales and looks at you with concern.

"Apparently, there was a potion accidentally mixed into the sugar cookies," you say. "Are you feeling alright?"

He nods. "I'm fine now; I believe that when we kissed, the true affection we felt for each other was enough to break this enchantment." his cheeks flush, and he averts his eyes from yours, "It felt like I was dreaming; I apologize for my actions today, I hope I didn't make you feel uncomfortable at all."

You gently take his hand and offer up a smile, "So, you dream of me often?" your teasing brings a little smirk to his lips, and he knows there is nothing to forgive,

"Quite often, my dear." he gently kisses the crown of your head. "Although I wasn't acting like myself, I truly meant it when I said I never want to leave your side. I've prepared a special outing for us next week as a gift for you. I know we all agreed to spend today with you together, but I am still a Demon, and I must have my own time with you without distractions."

"That sounds wonderful." you smile, hugging him tightly. You notice the sudden fatigue that clings to him, possibly a side effect of the potion. "How about you head back to the banquet hall and rest. Now that we know how to undo the spell, I can find the others, and we can get this party back on track.

He looks a bit disappointed but he gives your hand a gentle squeeze. "I suppose that's for the best, My Dear." He leans in close and murmurs into the shell of your ear, "But if you ever tell anyone of the details regarding my behavior under the effect of this potion, I promise you it will not go unpunished."

Mammon~

With one down and ten to go, you search the Castle once more. Your footsteps sound much quieter as you walk along the luxurious carpet that lines the long hallway. The knowledge of how to undo the effects of the potion is soothing, but this unintentional little game of hide and seek is certainly not helping speed this whole thing along.

Another worrying possibility is that simply kissing everyone may not work. Is it possible that the spell on Lucifer was broken due to something else entirely?

Your worry clouds your judgment as you wander past the heavy double doors of the palace treasury. For the first time in all of your visits here, you notice a lack of guards outside the doors. The treasury is completely unprotected. If it were any other day, you just know you would find Mammon poking around, trying to break into the vault using some cheap-looking skeleton key he got on Akuzon.

If Lucifer's clingy behavior was any indication of what was yet to come, the crown jewels of the Devildom would be the last thing on the Avatar of Greed's mind at the moment.

You pass the vault and begin to meander your way past the wall of portraits. You remember Barbatos explaining to you a while back that the individuals in these portraits are crucial to the Devildom's history and are up here as a way of honoring them.

You pass Ancient Kings and Queens of old, their names carefully embedded on golden placards, written in languages that no longer are spoken. Painted eyes seemingly track your every move. They only stop when you stop in your tracks. Near the end of the lowly lit hallway, you think you see someone sitting on the carpet. As you creep closer, you see that it is Mammon. He is staring up at the wall with complete fascination.

"Mammon?" you call gently. His head snaps in your direction as soon as the soft sound of your voice reaches his ears. His eyes widen when he sees you, and those big, heart-shaped pupils stare back at you.

"Mc, it's really you." he smiles, getting slowly to his feet. His lack of coordination is evident as he walks over to you with small, shy steps. "I knew ya wouldn't forget about me."

"I could never forget about you, Mammon." Your smile lights up the dark hallway and beckons him closer. You brace yourself for an inhumanly strong bear hug, but it never comes. Mammon stops just a foot away from you and stares at you with eyes full of pure devotion. You feel a bit shy under his spotlight as he takes in every inch of your being.

"You're perfect, aren't ya?" he murmurs in a dreamy tone, his knees buckling in front of you. "Ya look like you were carved outta marble or somethin."

Mammon has never been one to be so generous with unprompted compliments before now; the potion must have something to do with all of these flowery words. You try to fight the flustered heat blossoming beneath your skin with a teasing remark. "That means a lot coming from The Great Mammon."

The use of his self-given nickname usually would make the Demon puff out his chest with pride, but now, he just seems to shrink meekly. "I'm not that Great," he says softly. "But you, you are Greater than Great. They should call ya the…uhhh…"

He tries to think, but clearly, the love potion is scrambling his thoughts. "Whatever it is, yer it." He glances to the side and looks off at one of the pictures on the wall again.

"I was ready to stare at this all day long," he says, his blue eyes shining in admiration. "But now, with ya in front of me, I think the real thing is way better."

"Wait, what are you talking about?" you question, finally noticing what it was that has been entertaining the Demon for however long. Instead of seeing an oil painting of some long-dead member of the Devildom nobility, it's a simple Polaroid photo of you tacked to the wall.

Peering closer, you recall spotting this photo tucked securely in Mammon's wallet. At the time, you had teased him about it and watched in amusement as he grew flustered, stammering through some half-hearted excuse as to why it was with him. It was flattering to know that he likes to keep a piece of you close to him, but now, you just feel that it looks so out of place next to these large paintings. A sharp feeling of shame and unworthiness plucks at your heartstrings, and you look away from it and back at the swaying Demon.

"What is that little thing doing up there?" you joke, looking between the elegant frames and your pixelated, kinda blurry face. "One of these things is not like the other."

Mammon looks at you with a confused expression on his face. "I put yer picture up here so then everyone will know just how special ya are. Yer Special Mc, and everyone in the Devildom deserves to see yer cute face."

It's a flattering notion, but the Love Potion has clearly made him overestimate the perception of your importance in the Devildom.

"That is very sweet of you to say Mammon," you smile at him as you reach out to take the picture. "But I think this hallway was just meant for art."

Your fingers just graze the corner of the photograph before Mammon steps between you and the wall. He grabs your wrist with a firm intensity and you feel an unnatural warmth to his skin. Is this another side effect of the potion?

"No, it should stay." His tone is firm as his eyes scan your face. "Yer the best, better than all these clowns up on the wall." His eyes flicker to a portrait of a cat-like demon, and he scoffs. "Who even is this guy?"

You try to remember why his face looks so familiar. "Oh, I know this one." You explain proudly, recalling your Devildom History Class. "He was a botanist who made a fertilizer that promotes plant growth under the moonlight. He got the Devildom through a huge food shortage a couple thousand years ago and saved a lot of Demons."

Mammon gives you a huge smile. "See! That's why yer so amazing. So pretty, smart, cool, and ya always know how to make my heart do that thing where it keeps me up at night just thinking about that cute smile of yers." he grins, looking at you with his previous, unserious, lovey-dovey look in his eyes. You know he believes every word.

"Fine then," you say, your heart feeling full from his shower of compliments. "How about I get to take the photo with me if I give you a kiss?"

He nods instantly. "Kissin' ya would be the best." he sighs dreamily. "Ya just got these really soft lips that always taste like honey or somethin else that's really sweet."

There is a flash of that signature green in his eyes as he gently cups your face and leans in for the kiss slowly, as if he is trying to savor this brief moment.

When your lips touch, the unnatural warmth to his skin seems to fade away. As Mammon seems to wake from the spell, he takes a reluctant step away from you in confusion.

"W-wha. Mc?" he blinks, furrowing his brows, trying to piece together the events from the last hour.

"How are you feeling?"

"Those damn cookies," he growls, clenching his fists into balls at his side. "Just wait. When I get my hands on that Chihuahua, I swear I'll.." he stops mid-sentence, and his eyes go wide in shock. "I didn't say anythin weird or mushy, did I?"

"Ummm, like what?" you ask, feigning innocence. "You didn't say anything weird."

He laughs, throwing his head back. "Course I didn't. I'm the Great Mammon after all."

"You sure are," you say back, wrapping your arms around your First Demon.

"What's that for?" He asks, hugging you back.

"No reason." you hum, "Lucifer is in the Banquet Hall; you should head back and find him."

"Don't tell me. Ya gotta go and find the others?" he sighs, looking disappointed.

"Seems like it." you shrug.

"Fine, but ya gotta promise me somethin'. Be careful; some of those guys are actin' all weird." he warms, reluctantly stepping out of your embrace. It's then he notices the photo of you on the wall. He looks confused and subconsciously feels around for his wallet.

"How'd that get up there?" he murmurs, carefully removing it from the wall. But instead of tucking it back into the leather sleeve of his designer wallet, he decides to put it up higher on the wall, out of your reach.

"Aren't you gonna put it back in your wallet?" you ask

He shakes his head, "Nah, let's keep it up. Ya deserve a spot up there among the greats."

Leviathan~

After skillfully pointing Mammon back towards the banquet hall on the pathway that avoids the palace treasury, you find yourself alone once again…

Your shadow follows behind you like a cowardly companion, doing little to help with the feeling of isolation and paranoia that prickles down your spine.

Taking another step forward, you step on something small and let out a small gasp as you flinch backward. The thing you stepped on has a human shape and your heart sinks to your stomach.

Was one of the strange side effects of the potion shrinking?

Did you just kill someone?

You take your DDD out of your pocket and shine your flashlight on the floor, praying to whoever is listening that you didn't crush any of your loved ones with the sole of the designer shoes Asmodeus bought for you.

Immediately, you feel relief as the light hits the object you stepped on. It's not a tiny demon, Angel, or Sorcerer. Instead, the minuscule, solid-plastic, smiling face of Rui Chan stares back at you.

Without a doubt, this little phone charm belongs to LEviathan. It's twin swings from your device from a daintily braided string, but hers looks frayed, like it was ripped off and she was discarded.

"You poor thing," you say softly, crouching down to pick up the fallen character. "I promise I'll get you all fixed up in no time."

You slip the figurine into your pocket and continue onwards. Levi must be around here somewhere, but where?

Beneath the cracks of one of the doors, you notice light spilling out. Slowly, you open the door to reveal one of the Castle's many indoor pools. The water ripples, and a head of purple hair breaks through the surface.

Levi has discarded his shirt and gracefully swims around in just his dark pants. Swimming in denim may not be super comfortable, but since he is an aquatic demon, he must be used to this kind of thing.

When he sees you, he stops what he's doing and just stares at you with a blank expression. Unlike the others you have seen so far, there is no sign of a blush on his cheeks, but he seems different somehow.

Is it his posture?

"What are you doing in there?" you ask, calling out to the Demon. He seems to shake himself out of his daze and hunches over in embarrassment.

"T-the others wanted to have dates with you." he stammers. "But no one is as strong in the water as me, so I claimed the pool. None of those Normies could take you away from me now.

So far, Levi isn't acting as strange as the others, but you are still cautious. "That is very smart of you, Levi," you say. "But I am not dressed for swimming, so maybe we could do something else together."

His eyes rake up and down your body, eying your attire. "Oh, you're right." he mutters, "I bet you think I'm just a stupid otaku who needs to touch grass."

"You know I don't think that," you say, briefly wondering why he dosent seem to be embarrassed as he usually is. He swims over to the edge of the pool and stares up at you expectantly. "I-i can't get out of the water on my own. Will you help me up?"

He holds out his hand for you to take, and you reach for it like it's second nature. It's only when he has a firm grip on your hand that his features shift, and he smirks devilishly, dropping his shy and unconfident act. "Oh, Mc, I just knew you would come to me."

He pulls you effortlessly over the pool's edge, and you squeal, hitting the water with a loud splash. Water fills your mouth as you thrash about, trying to breach the surface.

Levi's arms wrap around your waist as he pulls you to the surface. As you cough up water and try to catch your breath, he looks at you with those heart-shaped pupils.

"There you go Mc," he purrs seductively. His fingers swipe away damp strands of hair out of your face. "Now I can see you clearly."

"Levi, what did you do that for?" you cough blindly, reaching for the pool's edge. But his grip around your waist is firm. You aren't going anywhere.

There is a weight in your back pocket that makes your heart sink. "Oh shoot." you take your DDD out of your pocket and raise it above the water. The screen flickers once, then twice, before going completely black.

It's ruined…

So much for telling Luke you found the cure…

Levi's eyes flare with jealousy as he gives your side a gentle squeeze. "Hey now, put that thing away. You're with me, so you won't be needing any of those distractions.

This side of Levi is bold, smooth, and a bit aggressive.

You would be lying if you said you didn't think this boldness was kinda hot.

Gingerly, he takes your waterlogged device out of your hand and starts to place it on the edge of the pool behind him, but when he sees your little Rui chan charm swaying back and forth, he stops, narrowing his eyes at the collectible. "Why do you still have that junky thing?

Your gut starts to feel uneasy. Levi really did rip off that limited edition charm you guys got at the meet and greet.

Just as he starts trying to unravel the little braided cord, you come up with a plan.

Turning on your natural charm, you let out a little giggle and loop your arms around his chest, successfully grabbing his full attention. "Noooo, come on. It's just too cute. I like keeping it with me since you got it for me."

He chuckles and nips at your ear. "This piece of plastic is nowhere near as cute as you Mc, but if that's really what you want, then I guess it can stay." With the DDD and the phone charm safely out of the water, you feel relieved.

"Thank you, Levi." you coo, tracking his predatory gaze as it drops to your lips. He wastes no time pressing him to yours with confidence.

The butterflies in your stomach take flight as your eyes flutter shut. Seconds later, you notice that his initial ferocity fades, and he lets himself go.

His eyes are wide open now, and he looks absolutely terrified.

Mc, why are we swimming?" he gasps, looking down at your kiss-swollen lips. "What did I do?"

"It's okay Levi," you say comfortingly. And you mean it, this was because of the potion. "You were under a spell and didn't know what you were doing."

"But I still did it." he cries. "Brb, I gotta go become one with the pool now."

He starts to lower himself into the water once more, but you pull him up so he cannot sulk at the bottom of the pool for the rest of his day. "Hey, come on. Let's get out of here and dry off the best we can.

He looks down at your soaked clothing and hair. His face flushes redder and redder until he looks like he is about to faint. Wasting no time, you start to lead him out of the water for his own safety.

"I am so so so sorry." he apologizes again. "I know you will never want to see me ever again. All I am is a gross Otaku shut-in who tried to act like some kind of Dating Sim protagonist and failed miserably."

You take a fluffy white towel from one of the tables and gently pat his purple hair dry. "I still want to see you silly."

He shyly meets your gaze and gives you a wobbly smile. But then he sees his DDD resting on the table next to him. "Wait. Where is Rui-Chan?"

He scans the room frantically, and his breathing quickens.

Before he has a full-blown panic attack, you take the charm out of your pocket and drop it into his open palm. "Shhhh, it's okay. The string broke, but it's an easy fix. How about you go back to the banquet hall and try to put it back together."

He looks at you like you have just hung all the stars in the sky. "You're an angel, Mc. That's my Henry, I always knew I could count on you."

He starts to head back toward the Banquet Hall, the sound of wet denim swishing back and forth, following him as he goes.

Alone again, you look down at your pool-soaked clothing and roll your eyes at the inconvenience. "Okay. Three down, eight to go."

Tagging: @nutmeg030 @im-in-love-with-fairytales @snowthatareblack @stressed-cryptid @miracl3d @that-1-simp @the-panda-queen @melpomenelurks @romaissa @randomdutchgirl @skei2p @downinbedrock @yuuvis32 @exrellian @cuddlybelphie @yeet-skeet-nifty-neat @thorn--bush @commets-space @enchantedforest-network

#obey me nightbringer #obey me shall we date #obey me x reader #obey me #obey me leviathan #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #lucifer x reader #levi x reader #mammon x reader

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thewinchestah · 3 months

Text

"Good things come for those who wait" - Alastor x reader fic

Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader

Tags: ,18+, Smut, NSFW, edging, BDSM, Alastor does what he wants, there's plot if you squint really hard, alastor in heat, breeding kink, Possesive! Alastor, Jealous!Alastor, Protective!Alastor, spanking,degradation kink, praise kink, Angst with a happy ending, fluff, I didn't proof read this, english isn't my first language, no beta we die like men here, etc etc etc

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Word Count: there's no point guys. I can't stop talking.

A/N: WOAH!! Hello everyone!! What the fuck?? I wasn't expecting my "debut fic" to blow up like that! Thank you so so much to everyone who took the time to read it and leave a comment! I'm truly flattered by your praise. So, I hope this sequel to "PREY" does it justice! (but it can also be read as a standalone). Let me know if you guys like it, and if you have anymore ideas/suggestions! I'm tagging everyone who asked me to, so if you want to be tagged on my next fics let me know! Without further due, here comes that mostrosity of a fic! Hope you like it <3! (UPDATE: PART 3 IS NOW UP!!)

Part I | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Taglist: @smallershorteranduncut @markster666 @jyoongim @stygianoir @pepperycookie @fraspent @aether-th3-enby

It all started, as many things do, with a joke and a simple misunderstanding. Dying and instantly going to hell is not easy. Being in hell and not understanding why the FUCK you are in hell is confusing, frustrating and sometimes drawright ridiculous. There’s no guidebook for the hellish afterlife, and more often than not you felt lost at sea, drowning. Until you found your questionable lifeline, the Radio Demon.

Somehow said demon clocked really early on that you were completely infatuated with him, but too scared to act on it. And oh, how he gave you enough reason to be infatuated, enough reason to be scared. Luring you into the most delicious trap, Alastor had claimed you as his. His to breed during the height of his heat, his to care for, his to inflict the most heavenly torture.

Being caught up in the middle of the living myth that was the Radio Demon was a dangerous thing, you had been warned over and over again. So of course that you had to almost fuck everything up in the silliest way possible.

The obnoxious TV set, also known as Vox, had just started another round of his futile attempts to win Alastor’s attention by airing the most absurd reality tv character assassination ever. You would put money on the fact that the obsessive flat screen was a deceased TLC producer. Usually, any of his pompous i-hate-alastor-so-so-much!!! fits would be met with enthusiasm around the Hotel. Everyone would cramp in front of the TV and make fun of the entire ordeal. Even Alastor would tag along and make a private edition of his radio show while he counter-narrated that nonsense. It became a fun bonding activity for everyone involved, it was a nice thing. But there’s a reason why you can’t have nice things.

Today the Hotel was mostly empty:, only you, Angel and a very on edge, sexually frustrated, irritated Alastor haunted its posh walls. Still, you and Angel carried on with the little tradition sitting side by side in front of the tv not knowing what to expect from today’s “My Strange Addiction - Alastor’s Version” episode. It was truly a laughable attempt of a character assassination, actors who could not act saying things like “Alastor isn’t even as bad as everyone says, his torture tactics are not that special either. My mom’s aunt was tortured by him and was going to work 10 hours later”, “i walked down the street today and alastor didn’t even try to kill me when he saw me crossing the street, he’s all talk” “i have video footage of the self-proclaimed cannibal eating a chocolate covered strawberry. He’s cannibalbaiting.”

“no self-respecting overlord would go out wearing those ridiculous out-of fashion clothes”.

Angel was having the time of his life leading the daily Vox roast session, the spider was funny and you couldn’t hold the laughs. The camera cut to a close-up of Vox, babbling on about technology and the anti-Radio Demon speech you knew by heart at this point. As if on cue, Alastor entered the room. But the pair of you remained oblivious to his presence.

“Toots, you totally should apply for this show! I mean it!. I’m sure Vox will buy literally anything you say. Anything! If you say Alastor likes to eat red nail polish cause it looks like blood he would believe it! You laughed at his words, what a ridiculous thing to say. You loved red nail polish, alastor drinking it because it looks like blood is absurd. “I mean, look at you!! Look at this face, these eyes!! This body!!!” Angel gave your thighs a playful slap. “If you say hell is actually cold using all that i would eat it right up. Vox will be too busy staring at your boobs to notice you dropping that even the oldest radio looks better than that fucking flat face”. The thought that you were the mind-numbing type of beautiful made you laugh. Sometimes you felt like your friends were being way too kind with the flattery about you. You were nothing special at all. It was nice of them to be kind to you, adapting to your new lifestyle was taking a visible tool, anyone could tell. Their efforts were honorable and sweet, but you just couldn’t let yourself believe what in your heart, you knew was a lie. A beautiful, comfortable lie, but still a lie. You weren’t much, you were just lucky. You started to laugh even harder, out of pure nervousness as your brain started to snowball into all the things you weren’t.

“ Seriously Angel, you have the strangest ideas ever!” you tried to sound normal, putting up a confident facade. That helped, a lot. You had picked that up during your days with Alastor.

Speaking of the devil, Alastor wasn’t amused by your little display. Standing on the corner of the room as you laughed, he made himself known by walking out of the room, in hurried steps. If it were anyone else, they wouldn’t think much of it. But you weren’t anyone else. You were Alastor’s.

And that’s why he was seething with rage. His rut always drove him, an already unpredictable man, to the brink of true, pure instinctual insanity. He had to grip his marvelous constructed self control painfully hard. Since your paths crossed, the most chaotic part of his existence seemed in control, your pretty little body always ready to take him, your eyes always holding his gaze in a maddening comfortable way, the way you would push your limits just for him.

Only for him.

And the worst part was your softness when it was all done. Alastor would fuck you rentless, for hours, making you take all the mess of his most animalistic desires without a second thought. Both of you would be spent, bathing in the afterglow, room smelling like sex, and you would ask him if he needed anything. Him, that just fucked you so hard so won’t walk straight for a week, that feasted on the blood of the love bites he inflicted, him that covered you in a painting of bruises.

How could he not want to just lock you inside his lavish room and give you all the rings of hell? to carve his name deep into your soul? to dote on you? to make him the only thing on your mind as he makes you his time and time again in the most sinful ways?

It was simple really, why he was shaking with anger: how you, who was his, was even thinking of being in the same vicinity of that scum of creation? LAUGHING AT THIS ABSURD CONCEPT. Vox thinking of you was already a crime punishable by painful death, but Vox looking at you was heresy, and the entirety of hell would pay for his transgressions.

As Alastor stormed off towards the Hotel’s large room corridors, he took several calming breaths. Losing control like this wouldn’t do anyone any favors. In the troubled waters of his mind, Alastor could only think of 3 things: you, fucking you and murdering someone.

So he didn’t even realize your hurried steps trying to catch up with his long strides.

“Hey sugartits! Don’t take too long doing whatever you need to do! there’s a woman going live after the break saying she saw Alastor eating an entire packet of PAPER TOWELS!!! HAHA! This shit is too good to be true!” you heard angel scream.

Adding insult to injury, nice.

Trying desperately to reach your demon lover gait, you could only think about how bad you had messed up. Alastor was your only true respite in hell. He was a blessing in a mist of the worst humankind could offer. He made you feel hope, more than making you feel alive, he made you feel glad you’re dead. The Radio Demon felt like coming home. You just wanted to make it up to him. You could not lose this, lose him. You were not sure you would survive it. And who knew where you went after dying in hell?

It doesn’t matter where you go after hell, it doesn’t matter at all if Alastor is not there. Your brain added to your inner monologue. True.

“Alastor! Wait” you shouted. He stops dead on his feet.

Finally, those long long legs of his do not make chasing after your love any easier.

“Alastor, I'm so so sorry. Angel gets way out of line sometimes and I was nervous” he is perfectly still, ears pinned back, listening. But doesn’t say anything back.

“Al I’m truly sorry. I didn’t mean it like that, at all. Look, let’s try to do something to make your day better. I know how hard this season is on you, I know you feel like you are losing contr-

Uh oh.

oh shit.

You used the two forbidden words together. The temperature in the room drops, Alastor snaps towards you. You feel something gripping your throat mercilessly, as you fall to the ground. Looking at the other end of the corridor Alastor has you on a leash of his magic. Eyes burning red, forehead marked “x” he grips your chains hard, pushing you towards him.

“That was a brilliant speech, little doe. Truly marvelous! I’m sure your television debut will be quite the show you were planning!”

His antlers were growing, his demon form showing itself as he becomes taller and taller over you. All bared teeth and flashing red eyes. This is what everyone warned you about. Don’t get in the Radio Demon’s way, he is dangerous and insane. You will regret it.

Hot. your brain thinks. He pulls your leash even tighter, and you feel wetness pooling on your core.

“Do you have any idea what I was about to do before I heard you so selflessly offer your services to that pathetic excuse of a demon?” Dragging you by the magic chains, his towering frame comes down to meet you at eye level. You can’t say anything back, your brain short circuits and goes AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

“You know better than leaving me waiting for an answer at this point, pet” He grips your face using his sharp claws,the pressure threatening to break skin. “But you seem so hellbent on being a bad girl today, I shouldn’t expect your usually good girl’s behavior, should I?”

You are, once again nothing but a doe caught in the headlights of his eyes

“One should always know better than expecting their fantasies to be true”

His sclera goes black, only the tiny blazing red radio dials devouring you as he stares so deep into you, you feel feverish.

“But since we are already here. I. Will. Tell. You.” static picks up around the room and surrounds you both, the corridor is illuminated by an eerie green light. You start to kinda fear for your life, but Alastor has you completely hypnotized by the radio dials on his eyes. You shiver in anticipation.

“I was coming to ask you, to please, spare me a part of your day, away from you friends. Because the only thing on my mind has been you. Fucking you. Sinking my cock so deep into your tight, wet cunt it would mark your soul. Because you are the only one who can take me like this, who deserves being bred by me, who deserves every drop of my seed”

You feel the wetness on your panties grow until it runs down your thighs. There’s nothing right about this, but your dear Alastor showed you long ago how the concepts of right and wrong are meant to be skewed.

“But oh well, you seem to have your affections directed elsewhere…” he tsks at you using that delicious mocking tone. “But, you can’t blame a desperate man for trying” he goes from 100 to 0 really fast, his voice softens so much in a way that’s almost too heavy to hear after all that. Even with his demon form still very much present “Do you still want to make my day better, pet?”

you are at a loss of words, but you manage to nod desperately. The anticipation of what he is going to do to you makes you giddy.

He manhandles your leash until you are on your knees in front of him, tugging on the chains so you look up towards his crotch. He makes quick work of his pants, pulling his cock out. Hard, angry hot red coloured. Angry because of you, angry for you.

“Open wide, little one” and without much more warning, Alastor is fucking your face, hard and fast.

You position your arms behind your back as quickly as you can. You know how hard it is for him to be touched when his rut is peaking. The overwhelming need for relief mixing with his ever present desire for control. This is about him asserting his dominance over you, making sure you don’t ever forget where you belong: In the warmth of his burning gaze, under him, on your knees, while he merciless fucks your throat into compliance. He’s taking it out on you, and you fucking love it.

He’s not saying anything, only growling like he’s about to murder someone. He grabs fistfuls of your velvety hair, but never leaves the white knuckle grip on your chains. You can only resist the urge of playing with your pussy while he thrusts so deep you feel his monster cock. hitting the back of your throat. This is about him, and you want to give him this so badly your cunt is throbbing with desire

Tears wet your cheeks, your lips around his cock are the definition of renaissance art to Alastor. He’s almost over the edge now, the head of his cock twitches on top of your tongue as a warning of his approaching orgasm. It’s hard, it’s hot, it’s fast and it’s angry.

Alastor cums, you swallow as much as you can, but he takes his cock out and spills everywhere, coating your hair, your face. It’s so deliciously erotic Alastor can’t resist catching some of his cum and running his hands throughout your velvet locks, bathing you in his essence, marking you once more. There’s still a bit of cum on the tip of his claw, he feeds it to you, and your lips wrap around his fingers as you take as much of him you can take, gladly.

“Oh how beautiful you are when you ruin yourself like this for me, my little doe” You look up at him with adoration and a lustful gaze, his eyes hold an equally lustful gaze and… something more. Something that you are sure will drive you insane.

Alastor notices the pooling mess underneath your tights, he knows how desperate you are for relief, but he still wants to self indulge on you. He’s certain you still don’t understand the reality of what he is feeling. Swiftly he topples you down the corridor’s carpet and places himself between your legs, his crawled finger tearing your lacy panties away.

Then, he feasts on you like a starving man, and he might be, because you taste like the ambrosia of the gods and he can’t get enough of it. Of how you make a mess of yourself for him and there’s still something for him to take. You just taste so sweet, what a perfect meal your nectar makes. His wicked silver tongue polishes you, aided by your whispered sighs, his name moaned like a prayer on your lips. You are so so close, alastor sucks on your throbbing clit you are already seeing stars, all you need is a gentle push.

Grinning like a devil, Alastor looks up, tilts his head, gives you the most wicked-and-douchey look in existence. He gets up, your leash dissipating into the air and walks away in perfect composure, like nothing happened. Nothing at all.

“Well, I think that’s my cue!!” he says in his usually chirpy tone. You just stay there, flabbergasted. “I just remembered I still have a lot to do today! Work never stops when you maintain a facility like this in tip-top condition!” Already halfway across the corridor, Alastor’s head turns towards you “Still want to make my day good my dear? Be a doll and clean this mess up, will you?” you just stare at him, too fucking stunned to speak. You can’t believe it. That fucking devil. He’s about to make the turn towards the elevator and disappear when his eyes flash red as he warns you “Oh! and don’t you dare make yourself cum without my permission. If you cum before I say so, you won’t be cumming for a week. Choose wisely!Let’s see who loses control first Ha Ha! This will be fun!”

Alastor can be a psychopathic demon in heat, but before all that he still is a psychopathic demon who loves torture.

And he just left you all hot and bothered.

–

Alastor knew better than believing in such things as heaven or holiness. In fact, Alastor was positively sure nothing was sacred. The concept of sacredness was non-existent in his book.

But his skeptic mind danced on the edge of belief when he touched you. To be inside you felt heavenly, heavenly in a type of way that should not even be allowed in this place. The way your lush body burned underneath his wicked gaze was sacred.The way you always presented yourself to him, with selfless abandon was sacred. Somehow, someone allowed him, of all people, access to a soul he frankly didn’t understand what was doing in hell in the first place. He never was the better man. He was never giving that up.

In all of his nature, Alastor felt the most sinful pleasure in defiling your sacredness. He wanted nothing but to take the heavenly thing you were and taint it with his darkness.

He was well acquainted to torture and had no shame in inflicting the most delicious and depraved type of it on you ,until all of your holiness was irrevocably marked by him, down to the core of your soul. Of course Alastor didn’t buy your soul. He didn’t need to use those means to completely own you. He did it effortlessly, because you craved it. Because he craved it.

That’s why the thought of Vox even looking in your way was heretic, and not in a good way. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing you to Vox. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing you. Period. You were his.

But adding that man into the equation just made everything more intolerable. The things he would do if he found out about you… Found out that not only you were his but how you could make someone feel. How precious and undeserving of anything less than good you were…

You were made to be cherished and protected. Protected by him.

In fact, it took all of the Radio Demon’s willpower to restrain from walking to the Vees building, and kill Vox for something he didn’t do. Because Alastor wouldn’t allow the thought to even cross his mind. All that, a messy display of his desperation and loss of control. Giving that prick the smug satisfaction of knowing somehow he got to him, in his last moments.

Damn, his rut truly did make him on edge.

Suppressing his murderous thoughts, Alastor focused his mind into something he as actually good at: torture. Yours specifically. He still wanted to punish you for making him feel like this. He still wanted to make you understand.

And he just thought of the sweetest way to do it.

After cleaning up the mess on the corridor, and yourself (you did it all on autopilot, still trying to understand what the FUCK happened) you still had to give Angel a satisfaction about why you didn’t come back. You must’ve looked really miserable cause Angel just hugged you really tight and ordered you to bed. When in reality all of your efforts were now focused on masking your humiliating arousal. So you find yourself lying in your bed, trying not to think anything Radio Demon related. You’re totally not thinking about the way he looked at you while he fucked you. The way his eyes would search yours in a crowded room, winking playfully at you. An inside joke. A promise.The way you both playfully banter at the dinner table over silly things. You are also totally not thinking about how he takes you, how you love to hear him saying “good girl” to you after you push your limits again, only for him. Not thinking at all about how his cock fills you so perfectly, you truly feel empty without it. Who’s thinking about what hides behind his eyes when he his voice goes all soft in the middle of a rough fucking? Ha ha!! Definitely not you.

You punch yourself with your pillow.

C’mon don’t think thoughts of Alastor now…

You are so fucked, and not in a sexy way. The worst part is that you want to endure it, you want to be good for him. Your pussy is aching to be touched, your mind begging you to have thoughts of Alastor while your pussy is being touched. But right now you would give everything in this world to hear him praise you again. You know how hard his rut is on him… He already carries a lot alone, the Hotel, the doomsday clock of extermination ticking closer and closer everyday. Plus the other things… You know there’s something more, something that haunts his nights, but it’s not your place to ask. Hell, you are too scared to ask. You just hope, you just pray that when it happens you are beside him. You don’t ever expect the Radio Demon to ever ask for help, or open up. Or seek comfort. Oh, he’s anything but comfortable. But you like to think that in time, he would feel comfortable enough around you he could let something slip, a tiny detail to add to your “The Mystery of the Radio Demon” clue board. Something that would let you show him he doesn’t need to pick himself apart, carry all these burdens alone.

Great, you are doing amazing at the “not thinking any Alastor thoughts” game.

You hug your pillow closer and look across you window as you start saying out loud a list of things you need to do around the Hotel. Maybe this will take your mind off the devil.

Tend to the Venus Fly traps of the gardens. (You could ask Nifty for the bugs)

Write the thank you letters to the new guests that agreed to help with hotel chores.

Tell charlie about your book club idea using cool flashcards

It’s your turn to organize “Theme nights”, maybe Alastor would enjoy a “great gatsby” theme, right?

Great, Alastor again. You sighed.

Suddenly a red note written with perfect penmanship flies next to your spot on the bed.

“My darling doe, I’m waiting for you in my chambers.

Don’t take your time, we have much to discuss.-

Yours, Alastor.

You take your time, though, to thank anyone who’s listening as you sprint towards Alastor’s lavish room. You feel dizzy, anticipation like butterflies in your stomach. You don’t have to knock more than once for him to let you in.

He’s on the edge of the bed, looking like his normal self (as normal as it gets for Alastor)

The taps the spot next to him on the the bed

“Come here, you darling thing!”

you don’t waste a second, and as quickly as you are sitting on his bed, you are sitting on lap. Holding you close, in a vice like grip with one of his arms, Alastor starts talking

“How was the rest of your day, my dear?” you open your mouth to start talking, you have so much to say to him. That you were a good girl, that you were ready to do anything to make up for laughing at Angel’s stupid idea of seducing Vox. You are ready to beg for your release. to ask how his day was. But you don’t get to utter a word.

Alastor quickly and swiftly maneuvers you: now your feet are dangling from the bed, your ass and legs sprawled out across his lap. A powerful arm locking you to him by the small of your back.

Holy fuck.

“Well my day was downright awful! You see I overheard my pretty pet laughing at the prospect of seducing one of my most infuriating enemies. I’m in the peak of my unforgiving rut ,and all I wanted was the shared pleasure of our bodies as I fuck the darling thing senseless!” he pinches the back of your thigh, hard. You blur out a soft, desperate sigh.

“Of course, the good girl she is, she went begging for my forgiveness. I didn’t fully give it, of course. That was a harsh offense, what my little doe did. But I did have my fill with her” You try to spea-

Alastor audibly shushes you.

“I did leave her all hot and bothered after spilling my cum all over her maddening little body, of course. I contenplated murdering the bastard demon so he wouldn’t get a chance of even knowing about her existence and what she does to me. But I still suffered with the hellish need of fucking her into oblivion, and pondered a lot about divine justice. So, if I had to suffer this entire day because of her offenses I think it’s only right for that darling doe to get her fill of suffering and punishment hmmmm?

You try to look back to his face, but you feel the familiar sensation of magic wrapping around your throat. The leash, you are so so fucked. You couldn’t be happier about it.

He tugs at the chain, so your skirt rides up and your ass is totally bare for him and your head is buried in one of his fluffy pillows. With a snap of his fingers your panties disintegrate.

You shiver at the thought of what’s happening next, a delicious sensation that flows across your back and ends up inside your cunt, beginning to turn into a wet mess. He’s gonna spank you like the bad girl you were. He’s not going to be gentle about it either. You can’t wait. It’s gonna hurt, it’s gonna sting, it will leave you bruised. It will be deliciously wicked, like all of Alastor’s punishments.

You feel another surge of magic, behind the powerful green glow something materializes.

Your horsegirl days back on earth don’t let you down. You recognise it instantly. On his previous free hand he’s holding a riding crop. A big, leather pointed riding crop.

He’s going to literally whip you into submission. You squirm inside his arm. You can’t fucking wait. You’ve made yourself come a few times after the thought of being literally tamed, broke by alastor.

You whimper. Alastor’s laugh fills the room.

“So this is how this is going to go, pet. I’m going to whip you lovely ass like the ungrateful slut you are and you are going to thank me for it after every crack of the whip. I’m gonna do this as many times as I see fit. Until your ass is as red as my hair. Until you understand what you did. By the time I’m done you will be begging to be punished more. Are we clear?

You can’t look back at him, but you can feel how his red irises make your skin burn. You like to imagine that his eyes did the thing where they soften for a heartbeat, if you blink you miss it. Waiting for your permission, even now. You are able to muffle a “yes, oh please Alastor, yes”.

“Lovely.”

crack.

He didn’t even gave you time to process. The whip lands hard on the back of your left thigh. You let out a scream.

“Well?” he asks impatiently as he waits for your “thank you”. Seeing the way the spot where the whip landed turn a lovely shade of scarlet isn’t helping him hold his resolve either.

You wanna do this right, you need this as much as he needs it.

“thank-”

crack. the whip lands on your right thigh, a little lower.

“tha-”

crack.crack.

He whips you even harder, cutting the wind as it lands twice on your left buttcheek. Only four cracks down and you are a whimpering mess. You wiggle instinctively on his lap, seeking some friction, some relief. It hurts so bad, but it feels so good. You don’t know if you can take more. You want it anyway. “thank you, thank you” you whimper. Tears wet your face, arousal wets your core adding to the mess from before he even started.

crack. crack.

He mirrors his movements to your right buttcheek. “thank yo- Holy fuck Alastor”

one more hit, now hitting both of your buttcheks.

“I’ve told you many times before pet, there’s nothing holy about what I do to you. I’m gonna break you and then breed you. I won’t give you a moment of respite. And maybe by the end, when your legs are shaking from holding that orgasm you have been desperately chasing since this afternoon, I will be merciful and let you find your release. And we will know who’s really losing control here”

How can he do this to you with only his voice? You are not sure you’ve ever been so aroused in your entire life. You’re so wet, you’re staining Alastor’s pants. As close as you will get to marking him.

There’s a draft coming from the forest of his room, it softly kisses your abused skin, making it sting. You want to see the state of your lower body so badly. The way you’re submitting to him right now, the most sweet form degradation possible. Your eyes are clouded with tears, that line between pain and pleasure being blurred in ways only someone like the Radio Demon could cross. He tugs on your leash, to attract your attention from the sinful, unholy sensations you are feeling so openly, back to him.

Alastor drags the leather point of the whip across your throbbing cunt, collecting the obscene amount of wetness there. “By the 7 rings of hell, what do you have here? Are you such a slut that you are creaming at being whipped into compliance? I could do this all night long. Your ass is already red with regret for your actions but I’m not sure you learned your lesson yet.”

crack. The whip this time lands on your juicy cunt. Your hips trash with the sensation, your demon lover’s name escaping your lips like a prayer.You forget to thank him this time, despite your best efforts.

“Are you so big of an ungrateful brat that you want this sinful punishment to continue? Not even bothering to thank me, in hopes it will end sooner. You know what you are. Nothing but a hungry greedy whore for the Radio Demon”

crack, crack. One hit on each cheek. “But I already knew that” and with that mocking tone Alastor lands a masterful final hit on both of your cheeks. He does have a way of proving his point.

You are fucking sobbing now. Tears coat your cheeks, now a colour so vibrant as the rich scarlet the covers your ass. Alastor knows everything that makes you tick. He knows how close you are to cumming. Cumming for only his masterfully inflicted punishment and his voice. Incoherent whimpers leave your lips “please please please” and soft “ohh and aaah, alastor”

He tugs on your leash again, he knows your body like the palm of his hand, and that you are probably entering the mind numbing phase of the pain and the pleasure. But he still wants your undivided attention. He has whipped you into submission, he still needs to fuck you into submission.

“And you even made the mess of yourself stain my pants! My god, you are pathetic. Delightfully pathetic”

Alastor gently runs his clawed hands across your ass, the sharp edges making you hiss. He looks in adoration at the masterpiece he inflicted on you. Your ass and thighs a shade of scarlet to rival his hair, the wetness between your thighs a heavenly invitation. Beautiful. Sinful. Sacred. He will never forget this, and he will make sure that you never forget it too.

“Now, now, we are done with this my little doe” his voice goes extra soft because you can’t see him with your face buried in a soft pillow. “you were so good for me, you always are”

The softness and sweetness of his praise makes you sob even harder. It’s maddening.

He gently maneuvers you further into the bed, making space for himself.

“But now I’m painfully hard, and I still need to bury myself inside that tight throbbing cunt of yours, so deep it will mark. your. soul.” static picks up around you, a delicious omen of what is about to happen.

Alastor positions himself behind you, immediately entering you and bottoming out.

His first thrusts are sharp and deep, as to make his promise of marking yourself from the inside real. He pulls your chains so your scarlet ass is presenting itself to him like the most sinful gift.

Alastor picks up that breakneck pace of fucking, common to him, specially during his rut. He fucks you like he hates you. As hard as he possibly can, to make you know that you are his and his only. That even thinking of someone else, even as a joke, will not be tolerated. You wanted all of him didn’t you? You’ve made that clear, with words, with actions, with the things your body endures for him. So he makes sure to give you that.

Moans drip from your lips in a crescendo, you are screaming now, you don’t know how long you will last. It feels so good. That delayed gratification drowning you in maddening pleasure.

“Who do you think is losing control here?” he asks after a painfully sharp thrust. “Me, or the mess of a slut underneath me? That is screaming my name loud enough for the entire pride ring to know how she loves being fucked like a common whore for the Radio Demon,hmm?”

One hand pulls your leash upwards, the other your hips. He’s even deeper now, you can feel him in your core.

You don’t reply to the question even though you want to, even though you know the answer.

“Again, since you like being bred like that so much you are not hearing me” he takes all of his cock out and enters you at once. “Who’s losing control here? Me, or my little plaything with the scarlet ass from being whipped into compliance like the pretty little brat she is?”

You don’t forget to answer him now, you need to cum, desperately. You withheld your building orgasm for an entire day, you wanted to be good for Alastor. You wanted to be able to take everything he gives you. The pleasure, the pain, the sinful, delicious depraved torture. “Me, I am!” you scream out.

Alastor’s pace is becoming erratic, you feel the shadows of his growing antlers cover you.

“Again” he tugs at your collars. Another sharp, deep thrust.

“Me, i’m losing control”

“And what are you?” his voice is filled with static now, he’s close too.

“Yours! I’m yours Alastor, yours to fuck, to break, to punish” you cry out in sweet pain and pleasure.

Another tug, Another painfully sharp thrust

“I’m only yours Alastor” you finish.

“Good. girl.” he spaces the words out between thrusts, knowing how you relish in them.

“You can come now”

Your orgasm comes crashing down. You grip the sheets like a maniac, your legs shaking so hard Alastor needs to hold them in place. You scream so loud you are sure they can hear you in heaven. You hope they can, so they know. So they know this man owns you. So they know you love him.

Alastor is not far behind, your cunt tightening around him like a vice. He fucks you specially hard and deep know, delayed gratification hitting all at once. He cums so hard inside you, he’s sure he finally marked your soul. The feeling of his cock twitching and spilling inside you, adding to the indescriptible sensation. You are completely over the edge now, you feel weightless, free falling.

You know Alastor will catch you.

“Ah! There she is” you open your eyes and feel a soft kiss on your cheek. You are lying on top of Alastor’s chest, he cuddles you gently, making lazy circles on your hipbone but still buried to the hilt inside you. He still plans to give you all of his cum, all he has during his rut,after all.

“woah, that was… amazing” you say after a while.

“Well, I did whip and fuck you to the brink of insanity my dear. And you came so beautifully for me, you passed out. You’re such a sight pet. I will never forget it.” you blush at his words. You feel so happy.

Alastor kisses your cheek again, and with a final thrust he leaves you with a obscenely wet noise. You are dripping with his cum, it’s running down your thighs, staining the sheets.

You whimper in complaint.

“Ah ,don’t be like that” he laughs, is a genuinely happy laugh. “There’s still plenty of where that came from, but I need my darling doe to rest first” he says. He’s lying you gently on the bed as he gets up. “Don’t leave” you whisper.

He’s out of the bed anyways, and seems to be on his way to do something. You don’t care, you want him back here, holding you. You don't want him to ever let you go.

“Al, i’m truly sorry about today. You know that, right?” You know that I love you, right? You want to say, but you are scared that confession is a little much for today. You see where he’s headed now. He opens the bathroom door.

“Don’t even think about it, my dear. It’s all water under the bridge” he says in his usual chirpy tone, louder than the noise of the bath running. “Now you just need to promise me that you will never even let the thought of that pathetic demon cross your mind, my love”

my love.

“And if he ever does, you will let me know. So I can fuck those wretched ideas out of your mind” Alastor is walking back to the bed now. He picks you up bridal style and carries you across the room. You can’t help the hiss that escape your lips as your irritated skin touches him. “I know, I know my dear. We will fix that right up. I can’t have my favourite doe hurting. We still have a long way to go until the end of my rut, dearest” you don’t reply, you are just happy. perfectly happy. You could hear Alastor’s voice for days without complaining. “But you did look so perfect with that scarlet ass on my lap. Crying from how much you love what I do to you. I hope you never forget that”

You both reach the bathtub, he drops you with all the care in the world inside the water.

“I’m so proud of you. I truly am” the water is warm. The soap smells so nice. He lit candles too. You give in to the soothing sensations. You might have tuned out for a bit, cause you hear alastor calling your name so softly… He says it again, slow, soft, gentle, pleading. As to catch your attention, he has something important to say. “You know how precious you are to me, don’t you my little doe?” “yes” you respond, trying to fight the tears that begin to spill down your face ‘

“Oh my darling girl, why are you crying? There’s nothing to cry about. You are here, safe with me. As you will always be, as is your place.”

“Alastor I-I-” your heart swells, you want to say something. You want to say everything you are feeling. How consuming, in the best way possible, your feelings are for him.

But Alastor is always 10 steps ahead.

“I know, I know darling” he kisses your hand “I feel it too.” he says. It feels like a confession, it sounds like a confession. The look on his eyes is the one of that mystery that hides there every time his voice in the midst of your passion.

When you,know you know. your mind reiterates.

“Let me help you dry those tears. Save them for another day” He holds your face and kiss your lips. “The only thing you need to worry about right now is resting and recovering that luscious body of yours, as well as your brilliant, witty mind”

He hands you a sparkly fancy pink soap, and gets up to find the softest sponge he has stored.

“Now, I hope you like the smell of these candles, cause I’m not letting you out of my sight for at least the next four days!”

Alastor continues to chat away sweet nothings as he helps you bathe. Maybe it will take a while for the Radio Demon to say those 4 words out loud. He has enough reason for that, inside that beautiful, complicated mind of his. His actions always speak louder than words, your relationship was proof of that.

Until then, you will always have sacred moments in crowded rooms, you will always have jokes that only the both of you understand. He will always keep sweeping you off your feet in the most deliciously wicked ways possible.

Right now, you have him by your side after everything that happened, you have his heart too. You are sure of that. So you don’t mind waiting for him.

Good things come for those who wait.

#atenção creuzebek vamos lá vai começar a baixaria #author is also in heat can you tell #METE COM FORÇA E COM TALENTO EU TO OFEGANTE E VC PERCEBENDO #alastor x reader #alastor #alastor x reader smut #the radio demon #the radio demon x you #hope uou guys like it!!#VEM DE CHICOTE ALGEMA CORDA DE ALPINISTA #baixaria

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littlecharmingenvy · 10 months

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Diavolo Headcannons

Dia brainrot go brrrrrr (pls I love this man)

warnings: NSFW (MDNI), couple of kinks mentioned, Diavolo having a sub-par father, author not knowing how to take things seriously (aka, use of the phrase "dicked down crazy style"), uhhh I feel like I'm missing something but I can't think of it so if I am pls lmk

SFW

<3- He’s always been intrigued by humans; how such fragile creatures could have so much courage would never fail to amaze him. So when MC comes along, this sweet little thing who didn’t even know demons actually existed until a few weeks ago, he can’t help but be impressed on how little fear they show

<3- Immediately finds himself attracted to MC, but, of course, being the crowned Prince of the Devildom, he tries to keep things diplomatic. He didn’t want to risk a scandal, especially not now, since everything was finally working out to his liking

<3- MC recognizes Dia as the Prince, but because they didn’t grow up in the Devildom, they aren’t sure what that title exactly entails, so they stick to treating Dia like they would any other person, much to Lucifer’s chagrin and Diavolo’s delight

<3- With how casual MC is to Diavolo, he quickly finds himself falling for them, despite his best efforts not to. How could he be expected to not fall head over heels for them? Especially with their laugh when they’re caught off guard, or the side eye they give that seems especially reserved for Diavolo, when one of the brothers does something laughable. He feels special, as if their little silent conversations exist in a place no one can taint; its something just for them, and that’s something Diavolo has always yearned for

<3- As soon as he realized his feelings were something he couldn’t just brush over, he told MC. He’s a patient man, but he sees no point in hiding it from you, not when you two were already as close as you were. He swears his soul ascends to the Celestial Realm when you reveal that you feel the same

<3- Showers you in the finest jewels and gold (or silver if it matches your complexion better, cool toned shawtys gotta stick together FR). His father growing up only showed affection by gift giving, leaving Dia to lack any emotional warmth outside of material objects. While he tries to be better than his father, and is always praising you and showing love in any way he can, he especially loves giving you gifts, as that’s how he learned to show love

<3- He doesn’t mind receiving gifts from you, anything you give him he’ll cherish for the rest of his life, but he gets especially soft when you make him something. Little paper flowers? They’re the prettiest he’s ever seen. You bake him cookies? They’re the best he’s had in years (don’t worry, Barbs gets it). Give him origami you made in class when bored? He’s proposing then and there /j (/hj?). Just the idea that you thought about him and cared enough to make someone by hand makes him all soft and fuzzy inside.

<3- Aside from handmade things, Diavolo adores quality time. Just having you sit near him while he’s doing paperwork or enjoying his tea send him over the moon

<3- Very protective. While he’s sweet with you, and would never let you see any other side, he is still a demon, and he would (and has) threatened or killed a few who wished harm on you, and he’d do it again without a second thought

<3- Loves loves loves pet names. Lover, My dear, Angel (ironic), Beloved, he hardly ever calls you by your name anymore

<3- Overall, very soft with his lover. He just wants them to know how much he loves and adores them

NSFW

<3- I know this is widely agreed upon fandom-wise, but I’ll say it again for good measure. Size. Kink. Seeing how small you are compared to him makes him want to rail you into next week. When you look up at him with those doe eyes of yours, having to crane your neck up to make eye contact? Done. He’s dead. He died. It’s over for him

<3- You know monster fuckers? That’s how he feels about humans. Human fucker? Idk, but his enamoration with humans doesn’t stop in the bedroom

<3- Tries to be soft with you, really, he does. But at some point he just breaks, and he needs to dick you down crazy style then and there

<3- Praise kink, going both ways. He’ll tell you how pretty you are and how good you’re being for him, and will nearly cum when you tell him how good he’s making you feel

<3- He’s open to a lot of kinks, but isn’t likely to bring them up. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t love experimenting though. Actually, it’s you who makes him realize he’s into a lot more than he thought he was

<3- Loves giving head. Really, good luck getting him off of you once he starts. He’ll be down there as long as you’ll let him, accidentally overstimulating you pretty much every time. But when he paws at your clothes and looks at you pleadingly, you can’t help but give him what he wants

<3- Generally, Dia’s just a big boy who wants to make his little human feel good. Boy’s absolutely whipped for you, and isn’t afraid to show it. Anyone who has a problem with it will be taken care of

#obey me smut #obey me #otome #smut #obey me!#obey me diavolo #obey me hcs #obey me headcanons #obey me diavolo smut #obey me diavolo headcanons #diavolo headcanons #diavolo smut #headcannons

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itmeblog · 3 months

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It's Black History Month

(Over here in the US of A) So here are some podcasts to check out.

Absolutely no Adventures - a fantasy (un)adventure story that follows Sig, the owner of Signature Eats bakery, as he aggressively avoids becoming embroiled in any daring quests or chosen one shenanigans even though the universe really seems to want him to do just that. This is a story about cutting Joseph Campbell’s Hero’s Journey off at the knees to chill with friends and staying far, far away from the slightest whiff of adventure. And also baking. This is also a story about baking.

Afflicted - Lovecraft Country meets True Blood in this new series from award-winning producers Tonia Ransom and Jen Zink. In season one, a small East Texas town suffers supernatural disasters caused by a demonic book bound in human flesh…and only hoodoo can save the town from its affliction.

Apollyon - In the early 22nd century, the Apollyon virus wiped out 75% of the world’s population, and now most of the world is governed by the International Conglomerate of Research Scientists. Dr. Theo Ramsey is an ICRS research scientist who may have just discovered an effective vaccine for Apollyon, but the stakes to get the vaccine to the public are higher than she ever imagined.

Between Heartbeats - Tan immersive Urban Fantasy about the hurt, the powerful, and their growth within a broken world. We follow Sundiata, a guilt-ridden time manipulator with a knack for unemployment, and Nadia, a moralistic telepath determined not to lose control, as they balance frayed mental health against an unsympathetic police state. But when a malevolent presence rears is head, their neuroses become the least of their problems. Can our heroes make the most of their abilities before the option is taken from them?

Fan Wars: The Empire Claps Back - Two passionate Star Wars fans on opposite sides of the Last Jedi debate argue via Skype after their favorite forum closes down. If you love Star Wars (or call yourself a proud member of any fandom), you’ll love this romantic comedy told via

Harlem Queen - a Black historical fiction audio drama based on the life and times of Black, woman, "gangster" Madame Stephanie St. Clair during the Harlem Renaissance.

His Royal Fakin' Highness - What if Ophelia helped Hamlet get his throne back? This modern day, romantic comedy re-imagining of Shakespeare's Hamlet asks just that. As they stage an engagement in the wake of the king's death, these childhood frenemies must decide between duty and love.

InCo (This one's mine :D) - A Sci-Fi story about a disgruntled information seller, a mysterious space boy, and an android doing her best.

Janus Descending - a limited series, science fiction/horror audio drama podcast, follows the arrival of two xenoarcheologists on a small world orbiting a binary star. But what starts off as an expedition to survey the planet and the remains of a lost alien civilization, turns into a monstrous game of cat and mouse, as the two scientists are left to face the creatures that killed the planet in the first place.

Lady Lucy - Lady Lucy is an audio drama inspired by Shakespeare's "Dark Lady" Sonnets, 127-154. Between running her brothel, fighting the Church, murdering her friends' abusive husbands, and pretending to be a poet, the last thing Lucy needed back in 1586 was a surprise visit from her former flame... Will Shakespeare.

Liars and Leeches - Tonya Wright felt it all after the tragic murders of her sister and brother-in-law in a random act of gun violence. Struggling to travel outside of her home, she now lives constantly on edge about perceived threats that seem to surround her.

Nightlight - Multi-award winning horror podcast featuring creepy stories with full audio production written by Black writers and performed by Black actors. So scary it’ll make you want to leave your night light on.

Null /Void - a science fiction audio drama about a young woman, Piper Lee, whose life is saved by a mysterious voice named Adelaide. Piper soon uncovers a malicious plot by a monopoly of a tech company and must work with her friends and an unusual ally to help foil their deadly plot.

Out of Ashes - (currently remastering season 1) Follow a group of survivors as they navigate the ruins of modern civilization and battle against demons, ghosts, monsters and the looming threat of extinction from an ancient power.

Small Victories - A recently recovered drug addict tries to start her new lease on life, too bad life has it out for her. This dramatic comedy follows Marisol through the ups and downs of her life.

The Courtship of Mona Mae - In the 1870s, pioneers Mona Mae Christophe and Zekial Montgomery search the American West for Mona Mae's mother, Clara. Mona must recall a past, long forgotten in order to survive, so that she can find her mother, love and create a way of life for herself.

Vega a Sci-Fi Adventure Podcast - In a fantasy futuristic world, Vega Rex is employed by her government to kill off the world's worst criminals. She's never met a criminal she couldn't catch…until now. Join Vega as she journeys through a world of bumbling apprentices, powerful technogods, and her biggest challenge yet. Hosted by Ivuoma Hall.

Witchever Path - is an anthology series where your decisions effect the story. Our stories are based in America’s NorthEast, featuring characters finding themselves in the thick of the unknown while tackling issues like queer identity, gender, race, and spirituality. Stories often focus on the communities not typically seen in stories taking place in New England, and giving voice to the perspectives of those communities while uniting under some universal themes. And the supernatural happens. A lot.

(All descriptions were taken from websites)

If you want to find more and there are way more there's a directory :D

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twelve-forfend · 5 months

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Well, I did say this was a multi-fandom blog... Alright, let's do this.

The Qing Jing Peak Lord's Bamboo House

(and the symbolism therein, as recorded in the donghua)

I was snooping through the establishing shots of the Qing Jing Peak Lord's Bamboo House, and had to laugh as I always do at all the gay symbolism that managed to sneak its way inside. But then I looked a little closer, and was floored by just how much passive storytelling was packed into background assets. I talked about it at length over discord, and at the urging of others decided to make a shareable post on social media as well.

First, the shots which first piqued my interest in this topic years ago:

Shen Yuan transmigrates into the stallion-genre webnovel entitled 狂傲仙魔途 (translated as Proud Immortal Demon Way). The author's and his own usernames are dick jokes.

Notice the chrysanthemum vase, the cock vase, and the stallion statuette.

The stallion and cock are obvious nods to these jokes on their own, but for the uninitiated, the chrysanthemum is a symbol of gay sex between men, as the asshole itself is often euphemistically referred to as a chrysanthemum. This should have been Shen Yuan's first clue that not all is as it seems here! These are the personal quarters of Shen Jiu — the original Shen Qingqiu!

But let's move to the main room you first walk into upon entering the bamboo house.

There it is: the writing on the wall.

As the Peak Lord of strategy and the scholarly arts, Shen Qingqiu would naturally have calligraphy and paintings hanging everywhere! So let's break it down.

On the top we have 道㳒自然 ("Dao Follows Nature"), which comes from a Dao teaching by Laozi (founder of Daoism) meaning that life, death, the entire universe, the heavens and earth and everything outside and inbetween, all follow a set of laws referred to as the nature of things. Although unrelated to the Buddhist couplet below, it's certainly relevant!

Originally hanging in right-to-left order, I've arranged them to read left to right here to make things easier to keep track of. The calligraphy reads 西方竹葉千年翠；南海蓮九品香 and is a couplet commonly found in Guanyin temples. My classical chinese is not as strong as I'd like, but this translates roughly to "The bamboo leaves in Paradise are green for a thousand years / The fragrance of lotus flowers in the South China Sea is as thick as 9 sticks of incense."

The character 西 for West is used to denote the destination of enlightenment/purity: the buddhist Paradise (think Journey to the West). The South China Sea is where Guanyin was born. Upon the Lotus flowers is where Guanyin is commonly depicted as sitting. The "9 sticks of incense" though literal can also refer to the 9 tiers/grades of reincarnation lotuses with the 9th tier being the lowest, meant for those who in life committed the most evil of crimes — the 4 parajikas — and who can only manage a sincere Amitabha recitation 10 times and no more than this.

To put this in context with Shen Jiu (the same jiu as in 9/九), the 4 parajikas committed by the 9th Tier Lotuses Reborn (officially entitled the Lowest of the Low) are:

Sexual Intercourse

Stealing

Murder

Claiming attainments of stages of pure mental concentration that have not been achieved (in other words, rushing or lying about your cultivation/enlightenment, or maybe even becoming a Peak Lord without having formed a golden core beforehand).

From what we know in the context of the novel, Shen Jiu is innocent of at least the first of this parajikas, but the overall view of Shen Jiu in the eyes of others in the story is that he is guilty of them all. This calligraphy can be seen as a condemnation or a reminder for the character Shen Jiu, who even as the Peak Lord Shen Qingqiu is widely thought of as a scum villain and the lowest of the low.

Phew! That's a lot to unpack.

But if you turn your gaze to the original screenshot, you'll see to the right that there's a vase painted with a blue bird. This vase appears in several rooms of the bamboo house, and seems to be the image of a qingniao (青鸟; lit: Qing bird, wherein 青 can mean blue/green/clear-but-brackish black).

These qing-coloured birds are messengers and foragers of the Goddess-Mother of Paradise (Xiwang-mu 西王母, the "west/paradise" character from before, lit West-King(unisex)-Mother). They're a highly intelligent species who are exceptional in song (a good representative for Qing Jing's scholarly arts and pursuit of qin!), and the older ones might learn to speak human tongue. As a subspecies of luanniao (鸾鸟 lit: luan bird), they're thought to be related to The Phoenix and indeed thought to be the lifetime/samsara just before being reborn as a Phoenix.

If given to a "master" they don't like, the qingniao may refuse to pass messages or sing until they're set free, but if they do get along with you then they're loyal to the end.

As a point of interest, the Qing generation of Peak Lords uses the character 清, which is 青 ("colour of nature; brackish black, blue, green; young) + the radical for "water," resulting in the meaning of clear (as in water or heart; see-through); distinct; quiet (as in still); just and honest; pure; to settle or clear up; to clean up, expunge, or purge.

And as a bit of trivia, Liu Qingge's sword Cheng Luan 乘鸾 means "to ride the luan, take flight on the back of a luan." (Relevant, because the qingniao is considered a subspecies of luanniao).

With the Lords of both Qing Jing and Bai Zhan referencing this bird, I really wonder about its significance! It's spawning plenty of theories and headcanons for me.

Heading back outside for a moment, you'll find that in the Quiet Pool (清静小池 qingjing xiaochi (yes, the same Qing Jing the peak is named for)), there are lotuses, and on land there are flower shrubs which are either wide-petaled chrysanthemums (gay bottom jokes ahoy), or a type of peony, the king of flowers demarcating wealth and prosperity. Either way, a blossom fitting of our Qing Jing Peak Lord Shen Qingqiu!

My one regret is that I cannot get a clear shot of the fan hanging on the wall to try and translate the calligraphy on it. If anyone can snag one, please tag me! I also couldn't translate the paintings with poems hanging in Shen Qingqiu's bedroom (it's just too small and blurry for my bad eyes to make out). If I make another post attempting these things, I'll append them to this initial post in an edit afterwards.

#svsss #shen qingqiu #liu qingge #i started writing this at 3am #and now it's 8am #what am i doing with my life #who have i become #qing jing peak

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ruskaroma · 1 year

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ordinary, corrupt human love. | chapter 1: written in blood.

Warnings: this series will include highly disturbing/dark topics such as stalking, unhealthy obsession, graphic descriptions of violence, blood and gore, manipulation, gaslighting, large age gap, emotional/psychological abuse, dom/sub undertones, bad BDSM etiquette, etc.

this is a dark fic, written in john's pov and a glimpse of how his mind works. if you still continue to read and get triggered, that is not my responsibility.

Summary: John finds himself a new obsession.

Author's note: this is my first ever fanfic for this fandom and i am beyond excited to share this with you guys! though i must say before you begin, english is not my first language and there might be a few errors in my writing here and there, so i apologize in advance.

but either way, i still hope you enjoy this piece, and i can assure you that once i finish writing this series there will be more to come! i really enjoy writing john wick be a merciless bastard who kills everything that breathes, and i hope you enjoy it too as much as i did.

please, please, PLEASE tell me what you think in the comment and reblogs and likes would be so appreciated. it motivates me to write even more :)

(also this is not edited so all mistakes are on me and i apologize)

Word count: 8.1k

also read on ao3.

It’s one of those days again.

The sound of his watch ticking is the only thing keeping his car from being too quiet. His eyes watch every single movement of his target, never leaving his sight. It won’t be too long for John to finally strike, he just doesn’t want too many civilians seeing the horror that’s about to happen right before their very eyes.

His mind is thinking of many things he could do with this target in particular. A lowlife thug that got himself involved with a very dangerous Italian mob, but then again that’s not the reason why John’s murderous intent is at its peak at the moment.

He’s angry at something, he just doesn’t know what. And this target of his isn’t helping his situation at all. Reading his criminal record made John think this could be a chance to cure his boredom. This man is not only a sex trafficker, but also a pedophile who has a history of targeting teenagers to rape and sell to the black market that’s as fucked up as him.

He doesn’t normally take his time thinking of ways to kill his targets. He points, shoots, leaves. This one in particular though, got him facing a side of him that John himself doesn’t want to face.

He would start by breaking every single one of the man’s fingers. And if that doesn’t do any justice, he’ll cut them off.

One by one, let the man savor the feeling, let John relish the nightmare.

He could slit the man’s throat, watch as life drains away from his body, watch as the man clings to his legs for mercy. John could even pull out the man’s dick, step on it, fucking cut it off and shove it so far down his own throat that he couldn’t scream for help if he tried.

It’s John’s version of Colombian Necktie. A classic, only ever tried it out four times, hopefully this would be the fifth.

John is never the one to take pleasure in killing people, but these past few months have proved him otherwise.

Maybe it’s because of Helen’s death, and the way he was basically forced to sculpt the demons he buried back into himself. His only remaining bit of humanity was taken from him, and he’s coping in the most unhealthy way possible. Perhaps Winston was right about dipping his pinky a little too much into the pond, but it was inevitable.

John has gone back to his old ways. Taking contracts here and there to distract himself from the void in his heart. He remembers how burying a knife into someone’s throat for the first time in many years has ignited something in him he didn’t even know he had.

That’s why he’s here, exiting his car in a swift move, following his target as quietly as possible into a narrow alleyway that stinks of garbage in piss. This would be a nice place to kill a guy like him – right where he belongs.

John’s movements are so discreet the man couldn’t even sense him until John wrapped his right arm around his neck and his other hand went to cover the man’s mouth. He walks them both to the back of a building as the man struggles, where John’s sure no more people are present, and he kicks him on the jaw to stop the man from making any more noises.

John can make this quick. Pull out his gun and blow his brains out. But there’s that sinister glint in his mind that’s telling him to do something unimaginable – grotesque even – a death a man like him deserves.

The man tries to swing his arm at John but misses pathetically. The poor guy’s already shaking and John hasn’t even begun.

John doesn’t respond to the pitiful attempts of questioning who he is and who sent him here, he simply pulls his knife from his pocket and wastes no time slashing it against the man’s throat, the blood spraying all over his face. The man tries to stop it by shakily covering the deep cut with his hand, but it’s useless.

He’s gargling, choking on his own blood, and John’s watching it all unravel with a familiar glint in his eyes.

John is contemplating if he should follow the plan he made in his head or just leave it like this. Somehow, the sight looks rather incomplete to him. He knows what he’s done is not enough, but that could be just the rage talking. The man’s already dead, and surely cutting off his dick and shoving it so far down his throat it comes out of the wound would leave an ugly reputation on his name.

Would that be a good thing? John is already feared enough, would it be a good thing to make people fear him even more? But then again, this won’t be the first time he’s done it. Doing it again one more time wouldn’t make any difference.

He glances down at the dead body on his feet before he kneels down to do the unforgivable.

Slicing off a man’s cock is easy. Too easy. John’s knife is perfectly sharpened and stoned, he merely uses any strength to cut it off. The sight is so fucking ugly, too much blood, but nothing he can’t handle.

Once that’s done, John uses his other hand to force the dead man’s jaw open, immediately greeted by the foul stench of blood as he shoves the unpleasant dick into the man’s open mouth. The genitalia is definitely not long enough to reach the throat, but that won’t be any problem for John.

He grits his teeth as he forces his hand in there, not bothering to care even if the jaw breaks and the hole becomes even wider, his goal is the only thing in his mind.

The blood continues to drip and he has never been so grateful for wearing an all black uniform for this occasion. Soon enough, after a few minutes of such a brutal wrongdoing, John sees the tip of the cock reaching the deep wound on the man’s throat as it continues to peak its way out.

A sick, small smile spreads across John’s face. The smile is barely there, but he’s fucking enjoying this more than he’d like to admit. He can only imagine how the news would spread across the assassin underworld like a wildfire.

The Boogeyman’s back in business and he’s scarier than ever.

Perhaps this might be the way to lay his point across. This is a way to show them that it was not a good idea pissing him off, killing what’s his, and bringing him back in business. They’d regret it, but it would be already too late for that.

John uses his other hand to pull the cock right out of the man’s throat but not completely. Half of it is hanging out and John thinks he could even consider this as a masterpiece. There’d be flies and maggots that would make the scenery better, but the cleaning service is there for a reason. He can’t just not use it.

John stands up from his position, pocketing his knife back into his pocket before retrieving his phone with the other. He dials a number, waits for them to pick up, all while admiring his work on the ground.

His previous contracts these past few months all ended in such an unimaginable, ugly way. He figured that by showing them that he’s capable of such brutality, it would increase the numbers of people calling him in for more jobs, because this is exactly what they wanted. They wanted Baba Yaga, the ruthless killer of the underworld who stops at nothing to finish his job, and he’s simply giving it to them.

Someone picks up the call and he straightens his posture, checking the time on his watch before speaking.

“This is Wick. John Wick, yes. I would like to make a dinner reservation for one.”

The news spread faster than anticipated.

The notorious man John Wick, the hot topic of the criminal underworld at the moment, even gained the attention of The High Table, and it all happened in the span of one day. That’s how quick the news spread amongst his fellow assassins, though that’s exactly what he was going for.

John expected it so he isn’t surprised when he receives a call from Charon saying Winston wants to meet him.

He inserts a coin in the door and the small window opened briefly. The guy on the other side immediately recognized him, not wasting a single moment to open the door and let the man of the hour in. All eyes are on him the moment he steps into the club, but no one dared to murmur anything to anybody – not when the man himself is here.

They know better.

John spots Winston at his usual spot drinking his usual order, signaling John to sit beside him where a glass of bourbon is already present.

“Jonathan,” Winston greets, raising his glass. “We have a lot to talk about, don’t we?”

“I figured,” John replies, though not interested. He slides himself to the booth and takes a sip of his own drink. “I don’t understand why though.”

“Are we really playing this game, Jonathan?” The manager raises a brow.

“I was just doing my job.”

“In a way you don’t normally do,” Winston then adds. “Or should I say, in a way you don’t even do.”

John gives him a look, but he could tell Winston doesn’t know how to interpret it. His face remains emotionless, not letting the mask slip and grant Winston the privilege to take a peak. John will continue to play this game until he’s satisfied, until he feels something again. Surely he’ll find what he’s looking for while doing the only thing he’s ever good at – slaughtering.

“Let’s just say I was trying out a new technique,” John says, voice deep and almost sinister. Winston’s scared, though he doesn’t show it, John knows.

“I have known you ever since you started, Jonathan. Not once did it cross my mind you would do something so.. horrifying as this. You discarded the body like he was some sort of pig, so believe me when I say I couldn’t believe it at first.”

John has no idea why Winston’s whining about him being horrifying, when that’s all they’ve been saying about him ever since he joined. He didn’t gain this reputation for no reason, now he’s just simply showing them what more he’s capable of.

“You should’ve seen his record.” His tone is menacing, swirling the drink in his hand as he stares deeply at Winston’s eyes. “He’s worse than a pig.”

The drop of the curse word takes Winston by surprise. “So is that what it is, then? You killed him that way because you think he deserved it?”

“Not really,” John simply sighs, leaning back on the leather seat as he takes another sip of his bourbon. He really isn’t planning on staying longer, but Winston seems to be taking his sweet time asking him a bunch of stupid questions. “I couldn’t care less of what he’s done. I was simply… bored. Saying that I did that because I think he deserved it gives people a reason to think that what I did was justifiable.”

The look on Winston’s face says enough. He’s afraid of John, afraid of what he has become. Hearing John say he did such an unforgiving thing just because he was bored is beyond frightening. No man has ever inflicted so much fear on him before – at least not until John.

“I think we’re done for tonight,” Winston finally says, not wanting to hear any more disturbing thoughts of John, but he remains polite and calm for the sake of their friendship. “You have a good night, Jonathan.”

John gives him a nod, standing up from his seat and downing his drink in one go. “Goodnight, Winston.”

He exits the club with an eerie aura following behind him, not caring about the way people are looking at him like he’s got Death himself walking beside him.

It makes him wonder that maybe death doesn’t follow him after all.

Maybe it is him.

Someone offered him five million to fuck up a man who allegedly stole a fuck ton of kilograms of cocaine from their warehouse, and really, who is John to decline the offer?

Hunting the man is easy. It didn’t even take a day to locate where the man lives, and John’s already breaking into his apartment to shoot the guy and leave. There’s no point in rummaging the place for the cocaine, all of it is already up the man’s system by the looks of it, and killing him is John’s job.

John wants to finish this one fast, he’s got other business to attend to. As he backs up the frightened, pathetic excuse for a man against the wall, he takes his gun out of his holster and aims directly at the head, right between the eyes, and he watches in great pleasure as the residue of his brains splatter against the walls and the floor.

This man didn’t even put up a fight. John thinks this is a waste of time.

He exits the apartment with disappointment heavy on his shoulders, slamming the door shut. Although the gun he used has a silencer, the rooms are too close to each other. He’s sure there might be other people who heard the shot of his firearm.

The apartment building is located at the filthy side of New York, where most known drug dealers and junkies do their nasty deals. It’s no surprise that as soon as John steps a foot out of the worn out building, all eyes are on him, but mainly on the clothes he’s wearing. They’re planning on mugging him out, and John would like to see them try.

Just as he’s about to walk to his car, his phone rings abruptly in his chest pocket. He retrieves it in one swift motion, not noticing that a gold coin fell out as he does so, and he continues walking to not waste any more time.

“Sir! Excuse me, sir, you dropped something!” John hears from behind. He doesn’t bother looking.

The call isn’t nearly as important as the business he needs to attend to, so he hangs up the call and pushes his phone back into his pocket. As soon as he does that, he feels a small hand touching his shoulder.

John’s hand immediately flies to wrap his large hand around the person’s wrist, turning around to see a young woman with a bewildered expression on her pretty face, little fingers holding his golden coin that looks far too big on her hand.

She looks scared, terrified, and oh how fucking awful that makes John feel. Like he’s been punched right in the fucking gut. He’s enthralled.

“I wasn’t–you dropped it and I’m just giving it to you, I promise!”

She’s looking at John with big, doe eyes. She also looks freshly showered, wrapped in a black puffy jacket that makes her even smaller than she already is. John lets his eyes linger on her lips, so plump and glossy. Her voice sounds sweet, soft, something John isn’t used to hearing.

John can’t help but to stare.

“Are you–are you gonna let me go, mister?”

The way she stutters triggers a hot feeling in John’s guts, and can’t help but to rub his thumb on the girl’s dainty wrist before slowly letting her go.

So delicate, he could snap them in half.

“Sorry,” John apologizes, taking the coin from her hold, and his fingers itch at the way her skin feels so soft against his rough hands. “Force of habit.”

“It’s okay,” she smiles a little, and there goes that hot curl in John’s stomach once again. “That thing looks expensive so be careful next time.”

Just like that, John doesn’t get the chance to reply back. She makes her leave and patters away from him, and he watches. He watches until she’s out of the view, taking a turn to a corner, leaving John with something he can’t quite figure out yet, but he soon will be.

For the first time in a while, he feels something new.

Suddenly, everything is too good to be true.

John will find himself staring at his hands for too long, still feeling the ghost of her soft skin on his fingers, fantasizing about her pretty face and soft, plump lips.

It’s scary for him to feel something again because that only means destruction. John likes to believe he has a gift of ruining everything he touches, especially the pure ones – like her. It’s a proven statement. Just look at Helen and Daisy.

This little one won’t be any different, he’s sure of it. John’s whole body is heating up everytime he thinks about her. The look on her face when she saw John’s chilling expression, her wide eyes, so glossy and innocent.

John wants to see her again.

His fingers itch, yearning to touch her again.

Why he’s suddenly interested in a young woman he just met a few days ago, he has no idea. John’s a bit confusing – fucked up, even. He long accepted the fact that his mind is nowhere near healthy years ago. He tried to push those thoughts away when he met Helen, but now he’s out of his shell and back in business, there’s no need to.

He’s always been one of the wolves, and now that he’s laid his eyes on his next meal, he will make sure there’s not a single thing that will get in his way to hunt her down.

He had a crisis for two days before doing the unexpected. It didn’t take long for John to find her.

Now, John has been following her around for a week, and he noticed a certain pattern his little one likes to follow as she goes on her day.

The very place where they met is where she lives, surrounded by a bunch of goons who have no idea what to do with their lives. John begins to wonder why she’s living in a place like that. He could take her, put her somewhere safe, under his care and protection. Make sure no one will dare to lay a finger on her.

John knows where she works. At a veterinary clinic not too far from her apartment, which is why she walks to work every three in the afternoon, but not without stopping by in her favorite deli and getting a large order of her favorite sandwich. She’s a part-timer. She’d be at school from seven to twelve, and at work from three to eight.

John finds the little things she does amusing. He’d be seated in a cafe right across from her work, watching how she moves around her office through a big window, petting and cooing at the animals who come and go.

She’s so perfect, so pure, so naive. She has no idea that a monster is lurking ten feet away from her, watching her every move like a hawk, thinking about the ways he could destroy her, make her his.

John is not delusional. He’s fully aware of what he’s doing and he’s aware of what people might call him.

Stalker.

Creep.

They don’t know him though. They don’t know why he acts this way. They’d do the same if they were him, that’s for sure. He’s not the bad guy here, he’s simply just protecting her little one, even from afar. John went as far as destroying a whole Russian Bratva for a mere puppy and a car, he’d do even worse if she’s somehow taken away from him.

John sees her exiting the building and his first thought is to follow her. He stands up from his seat, the cup of coffee long forgotten as he makes his way out of the café and keeps a safe distance between the two of them. It’s risky, especially in the broad daylight, but John knows she’s too oblivious to notice.

She’s with her friends this time, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by John how she clings at the shirt of her co-worker as they cross the street, small hands fisting at the fabric. He thinks about how he won’t ever let go of her hand once she’s his. He’s not big on physical affection, having to grow up with no parents and a rather strict orphanage, but maybe he could be gentle. Engulf her hand in his, stroke it with his thumb, tuck her hair behind her ears, show everyone that she’s already owned.

They wouldn’t dare to lay their hands on her again.

John walks in the middle of the sidewalk, not bothering to move away despite seeing people approaching. He doesn’t need to, the look in his face is enough for people to give him the way. It’s interrupted however, when someone does try to get in his way, placing a hand on his chest and pushing him back a little.

John clenches his jaw, pissed. He takes his eyes from his little one and on the person who so rudely interrupted what he’s doing – it’s Marcus.

“John? I was just looking for you at the Continental.” Marcus has a small smile on his face, clearly not aware of John’s expression.

His eyes dart behind Marcus, where his little one is supposed to be, but she’s gone. John feels something curl in his stomach, his fingers itching again, eyes rapidly searching for her in the sea of people.

He looks at Marcus again, deciding he’ll just find her later, but he worries that something might happen to her now that John’s attention isn’t on her.

“Why?” he almost snaps, voice deep and laced with no emotion.

“Why? Because it’s been quite some time, John. I haven’t heard from you since the Iosef situation, but I did hear you’re back in business,” Marcus replies, but when he sees how distracted John looks, his voice falters. “You working?”

“Yeah.” The lie comes off smoothly. “I’ll see you around.”

John taps Marcus’ shoulder, trying to sound as polite as possible even though he badly wants to break a couple of his teeth for taking his attention away from her. He knows Marcus is probably noticing something, but John’s never the one to care.

Marcus drops the subject. “Alright, John. I’ll see you around.”

With that, John disappears in the crowd with no looking back.

It’s been awhile since John last took a job.

He can’t seem to take his eyes away from his little one. He can’t stop fucking stalking her from morning to night time.

John’s afraid that once he takes his attention from her even for a second, something bad might happen to her. It’s engraved in his mind that she can’t protect herself and he’s solely there to be the protector.

No one would understand. He’s doing this for her own good.

John’s absence at the Continental doesn’t go unnoticed by Winston and Charon. They’re his favorite, after all. Watch his every move carefully ever since that ugly murder John did. Perhaps he could make his next kill even uglier. To them, it’s vile and grotesque. For John, it’s special and unique.

This time, it took a good self-beating before John decided to take a contract. Three million to hunt down a rival crime lord, nothing he can’t handle, but somehow it brings an unusual feeling on his shoulder he isn’t fond of. Perhaps because John’s leaving his little one for a while and he isn’t quite sure what to feel. Worried and pissed – but mostly worried.

That is why he hired someone to trail his little one on his behalf. Everyone in business would do anything for a coin despite how fucked up disturbing it is. John offered a generous amount of coins to keep the assassin’s mouth shut, but he also held him at gunpoint and gave him a good talk before he sent the dog out in the field.

His only job is to keep an eye on her, report everything he’ll see to John, and maybe even take pictures for safety purposes.

John has been overseas in the last three days, and everything that’s been sent to him has been his only form of entertainment. There’s videos of her giggling with her friends, videos and photos of her in the library, outside her school, her work, and even in her apartment. There’s also information sent to him about the background of her friends – every single one of them, because John didn’t pay so much for nothing.

There’s one particular friend that ticks off John in all the worst way possible. He’s young, around her age, and the way he hugs and touches her just fucking sets him off. John wants to break his fingers in half. He reminds himself that once he’s home, he’ll make sure to take care of that boy himself.

“What else have you got?” John questions through the phone, and it doesn’t take long for his precious dog to respond.

“Oh, he is one creepy motherfucker. I’m starting to understand why you’re so riled up with this guy, boss. The urge to strangle him every time he gets in the picture gets stronger and stronger everyday.” He hears a laugh at the other end. The guy that’s working for him – Alex, if he remembers correctly – is young, new in business, knows not to fuck with John so he keeps his job adequate. If Alex ever notice how fucked up John is for making him follow a young woman to keep his life in order, he doesn’t say anything about it. “Just tell me when I can shoot this guy and I’ll do it in a heartbeat.”

“Leave him. Keep an eye on him, but don’t kill him,” John advises, his tone leaving no room for discussion. “I’ll handle him myself when I get back. For the meantime, focus on Y/N and keep any troubles out of her way. Fail that task and I’d serve your head hot on a platter.”

“You got it, boss.”

John is playing nicely.

He’s not going to force his way into her life. He’s gonna be welcomed, with open arms, desired.

There are times he’d thought about giving in to his desperation and act with his dick instead of his head. There are times he’d thought about following her to a dark street, where no one’s around, he’s on the prowl and ready to pounce. He’d put a fabric against her mouth and nose, laced with enough chemicals to make her pass out and for him to carry her in his car with no problems whatsoever. John thinks about how he’d make it look like he’s just picking up his very drunk and passed out girlfriend and no one would know a goddamn thing.

John would keep her in his house where she won’t need anything but him.

But of course, he’s not that cruel.

They’re only thoughts. Thoughts that he tries hard to keep away, but at the end of the day he reminds himself that he’s better than that.

John is not going to force his way into her life.

He’ll make sure to get her addicted enough to come crawling at his feet herself. She’ll be dependent on him, won’t be able to live without him. John will make sure his plan will go out smoothly or otherwise he’ll be the one bringing Hell with him on this land and seek as much havoc as he possibly can.

The death emissary himself will strike tonight.

A Friday night out with her friends has John on high alert. That’ll only mean she’s constantly surrounded with people, god knows what could happen if John even takes his eyes off her for a second. He lurks on the side, blending himself with the crowd as much as he can all while keeping his gaze on her.

He doesn’t need any drugs to keep his mind insane, because the sight of a specific man getting very close to what’s his is enough to make him visualize all the ugly and twisted ways to kill a man.

She’s wearing a thin silky dress that’s low on her cleavage and shows her perky breasts. She’s currently the flame in a room full of moths, John included. Everyone’s eyes are on her, observing the way she sways her hips and sings along to the loud music – John’s fingers itch.

The itch to kill is back again, driving into his veins, his hands twitch on the table. John wants to pull out his gun and shoot everyone in this fucking room. He wants to stab them in the eyes one by one and make them feed it to themselves. He wants to grab this guy on the neck and slam his head against the wall repeatedly until his brain scatter all over the fucking place and there’s nothing left for him to ruin.

This guy is getting on his fucking nerves.

John watches as the man smoothly brings his arm on her shoulder, whispering something in her ear that doesn’t make her look so impressed. In fact, she looks disturbed, uncomfortable, tense. Despite the guy being her friend, John could tell she doesn’t feel comfortable with the way he’s showing her affection.

It’s hard to see her like this, but he knows he can’t just jump in between the two of them and beat the shit out of the guy until he chokes on his own blood. He’ll have to wait, maybe after this party, he’ll strike and discard the body in a way that’ll make even Winston spook in his sleep. It’s not a major offense to kill a man that’s not in the game anyway – or at least that’s what John tells himself.

This guy wouldn’t be able to be three feet near his little one once John’s done with him. He’ll be six feet under.

John sees her swiftly moving away from his touch, trying to make her rejection look as polite as possible, which receives a not-so-amused reaction from her little friend.

This guy doesn’t deserve her at all. No one does. Except maybe John, but that’s because he knows he’s capable of actually taking care of her and keeping her safe. Nobody would understand what he feels, what he yearns, what he wants.

Good girl, John thinks. Walk away.

His gaze follow her as she makes her way to the backdoor and out to the cold air of the city. John follows in a hurry, keeping a safe distance between the two of them, then opens the door as quietly as possible so he wouldn’t let his presence known.

There are a few people on the street, either having a smoke break or making out against the piss stained wall, but she stays just beside the busy road as she wraps her arms around herself.

His gaze burn daggers on her exposed back, the urge to cover her up with his jacket and take her home. A drunk man comes stumbling out of the club, accidentally tripping over his steps and he pushes her hard enough to make her yelp as her heels lose balance and almost making herself get run over by a passing truck.

Almost.

Everything happens so fast. One moment John is standing five feet from her, the next is he’s grasping her wrists in his hand and pulling her back to her feet and dragging her back to the curb. He was already on the act once he saw the man exiting the club, he knew exactly this would happen.

The scene looks strangely familiar, one John could never forget. The same position, same hand placement, same rough fingers around her wrist and dark eyes boring into hers – their very first meeting.

“You!” she gasps, not caring about the fact that she almost just got hit by a fucking truck. “I know you! You’re the guy outside my apartment that day! What are you doing here?”

John stares. Predictable. Of course she’s talking to him like they’ve known each other for years. She’s too friendly.

“Hello to you too,” John replies, though his tone is blank as well as his face. “You remember me.”

“‘Course I do,” she giggles, a little tipsy, pupils dilated and licking her lips nervously. “You’re pretty hard to forget. I remember asking my neighbors around the area if you’re new there, turns out you were just visiting.”

John furrows his brows, hand still not letting go of her wrist. What does she mean by she’s asked around the area about him?

His face must’ve looked confused, he sees her grinning childishly. “It’s a coincidence that I see you again!”

Not a coincidence, but fate.

John doesn’t believe in a lot of things, but he believes in fate. Fate brought him Helen, and now fate is bringing him another angel. If she really went as far as asking the neighborhood about his existence, then it must be fate.

“I’m Y/N. I figured if we keep bumping into each other then you should at least know my name,” she says, completely oblivious that John already knows everything that has to be known about her. From her little mannerisms to the last name of her fucking grandmother. “May I know yours or are you just gonna stare at me all night?”

“It’s John,” he gulps, not wanting to look like a loser in front of her, not after everything he went through for her. “It’s really nice to see you again.”

He sucks at this. He fucking sucks at this.

“You haven’t answered my question, by the way. What brings you here?”

It hangs in the air, John lets go of her wrist. Luckily, he thinks fast enough and says the first thing that comes to his mind. “Work.”

“Ah, work,” she nods. “You work here? In the club? What are you, a bouncer or something?”

“I don’t. Someone I work with is in the club.” A lie, but it’s not like she would know. “We had a talk.”

“Not really a man of words, eh?” she raises an eyebrow teasingly.

“This is the most words I’ve said in the past few days,” John says. “I’d say you’re special.”

The look on her face is enough to make his entire night even better. Blushing, lips opening and closing, not knowing what to say. John wants to graze his thumb on her lips, thinking about how good it would feel stretching over his cock.

He blinks. Where did that come from?

“For someone who doesn’t talk much, you sure make it sound smooth when you do. Are you always this slick, John?” she giggles again, music to his ear. “That’s actually better than what I heard from my friend earlier, so thank you.”

“That’s good to know.”

Before she could say anything back, the door of the club opens once again and her friends appear, waving a hand at her and beckoning her to get inside. She looks at John, gives him a sympathetic look, as if apologizing that their talk gets cut off too soon.

“I’m really sorry but my friends want me back in there. Hopefully we can continue this again, yeah?” she smiles cheekily, tucking her hair behind her ear. “If you want, you could give me your number so we can talk someplace else? You know… with no one bothering us and all that.”

There it is. John didn’t think it would be this easy to sink the hook in. All he needs to do is pull and take what’s meant to be his.

“Sure.” He enters his number swiftly, feeling that familiar burn in his guts once again when he sees the wallpaper being her pretty face. “Feel free to message me whenever you want. I’ll make time for you.”

She looks at her phone and smiles before starting to walk away from him, waving a hand goodbye, but it doesn’t feel like a goodbye. John knows it isn’t. She’s already his the moment she started talking to him again.

“Of course! Get home safe, John! I’ll see you soon!”

“You too.”

She doesn’t know John won’t be heading home any time soon until he knows she’s safe and sound in her apartment.

Jay Lopez.

The name burns on his tongue. Bitter and resentful. He stares at the photos his precious dog sent to him and he has to stop the impulse to burn every single one of them.

Jay Lopez is the guy that’s been leeching on his girl since the dawn of time, and thankfully John is here to put an end to it.

He’s hideous. It’s interesting how John stooped this low that he’d be willing to kill a college student for being too near his little bambi, but alas, he’s never the one to care for such things. Morals and righteousness have never been in his book, not now, nor ever.

It’s only a matter of time until he gets rid of this pest. He’s fucking creepy, follows around not only Y/N but a bunch of other women.

John doesn’t want his death to be quick and simple. He wants to do it in an ugly way, make sure his body will never be found, make sure he’ll never get to lay his hands and eyes on what’s his. The way Jay stares at her in these pictures ignites something evil within John’s veins. It’s been awhile since he felt something like this.

“Alex.” he looks at his pet standing by the door, waiting for the next command. “Bring him to me alive.”

“Can I at least rough him up a bit?”

John doesn’t answer at first, looks back at the photos on his table. “Do what you want, just make sure he’s still breathing when you bring him here.”

“On it, boss.”

Truth be told, John doesn’t need a pet to order around for this job. He has himself – a labeled attack dog of the Tarasovs for years, their hellhound, chained and muzzled unless they need him to kill. He’s a one man army as some would say, he doesn’t need Alex running around doing tasks for him, but it sure does make the job a lot faster.

It’s not a way to downgrade his reputation nor skills to hunt, he really just needs this Jay guy gone as fast as possible.

On the same day, Alex manages to haul a very brutally violated Jay to the floor of his basement. He stinks, pants wet from piss and a face John is having a hard time recognizing.

“You said rough him up a bit, not make him look unrecognizable.”

“Same thing.”

Jay is sobbing his eyes out, his cries of pleas falls to deaf ears and John just wants to fucking bash his skull with his own foot. “W-who are you guys?! What the f-fuck did I do?! Get me out of here or I’ll tell the fucking police–”

John kicks him on the chin hard to stop the goon from rambling. “You’re not telling anybody any shit, tough guy.”

“So, what are you planning to do to him? Can I watch?”

“Can you handle it?”

Alex shrugs. He’s in the presence of the most dangerous assassin in the underworld, wouldn’t hurt to learn anything from his skills and techniques, doesn’t matter how fucked up it is.

John nods towards the chainsaw sitting at the corner of the room, and Alex turns to face him with wide eyes. “Jesus Christ, man. You serious? Last time I heard you’re a hitman, not a serial killer.”

“Same qualifications. Same thing.” John grabs the man by the arm then drags him to a chair. He takes a rope from the table and swiftly ties him up securely. “We start with the head, then arms and legs. It would be hard to put his entire body in a drum full of acid, so we need to cut him off one by one.”

Alex looks like he’s about to run off somewhere safe from what he’s witnessing. “You’re talking like you’ve done this before, holy fuck.”

John gives him a look, and Alex immediately shuts his mouth. Right. He’d done this before. This is completely normal.

“I’ve been following you for a while, Jay. You’re a creep who befriends pretty girls, then you’ll drug them and make them have sex with you,” John taunts, the sound of his heels hitting the concrete floor is enough to send shivers down his spine. “Is that what you’re also planning to do with Y/N? Be her friend and fuck her once she’s drugged up and vulnerable?”

It’s a bold statement coming from John himself since he’s no better man than Jay, but at least his intentions come from a different place.

“You-you’re fucking sick!” Jay spits.

“I’m sick? I’m not the one going around making girls uncomfortable now, am I?” he picks up the chainsaw, then watches in enjoyment as Jay widens his eyes in fear. “We’re going to have a lot of fun, Jay. You won’t be able to use your pathetic little dick of yours to any woman ever again, and most importantly –”

John fires up the chainsaw, adrenaline coursing through his veins when he sees the horrified look in the man’s face as he tries to get up and scream for help.

“I can finally sleep well at night knowing you’re not in Y/N’s life anymore.”

As John steps into the light, a roaring chainsaw in his hands, Alex could only watch in horror as the basement gets painted with blood in mere seconds.

There’s a vacant apartment just across her room, giving John the perfect view of what she’s doing while she’s alone.

Most of the time, John will pull up a seat beside the window and take pictures. The other half of the time is just him staring, observing. It seems that she’s too comfortable knowing there’s no one across the building so she doesn’t close the curtains, leaving John no choice but to keep his eyes on her.

He found this place just three days after following her. He couldn’t help it. Following her to school and work suddenly wasn’t enough for John that he had to find a way to somehow watch her even in her sleep.

He should be ashamed of himself. He should feel guilty for what he’s doing – he should stop, but he just can’t. John’s already done too much. This is like being pulled back into the underworld all over again but this time, there’s something good that’s waiting for him on the other side.

Maybe it’s the delusion that comes with it that’s not stopping John from whatever he’s doing. Lately, he’s been thinking about how life would turn out to be if his plan goes out smoothly. They’d live happily ever after, she would end up loving him just the way he planned it out to be, and John will make sure no one will ever dare to take those peace away from him again.

He’d make sure no one will ever come close to her again once she’s his. She’d be isolated but protected. Just how John likes it.

It’s been two days since John gave his number, but he knows she’s just giddy and nervous to text him. He’d seen her staring at her phone, biting her bottom lip anxiously, thinking if it would be a good idea or not. He knows she’ll give in one way or another because he sees it in her face. She’s too easy, too gullible, too naive.

She’s lonely, just like him.

John could tell she’s waiting for someone – she’s desperate, no wonder she asked for his number the second time they met. She wants someone to take care of her, to hold her, tell her that she deserves the world. That someone is John whether she likes it or not.

This isn’t just any unhealthy obsession. John finds himself too deep to get out. He knows her little mannerisms, studied her every action, has a red room full of her pictures and no one can’t say he’s not ready to give up anything for her. John has already given up his sanity ever since he mutilated a man for being too close to her.

She’s his life now, his everything.

John watches intensely as she shreds her clothes in her room, baring him the full view of herself naked, and John grips the side of his chair too hard his knuckles turn white. This is the first time he’d seen her naked, it’s so sudden and so… perfect.

His cock fattens in his pants as he observes every curve of her body. Her waist is fucking perfect and her body is thick yet delicate. John thinks about bruising her sensitive skin, leaving a mark that will show everyone that she’s owned. He would love to see her in a collar, hear it jingle when she crawls.

She’s completely fucking naked that John wonder just how naive she is to think there would be no one seeing her like this. What if John isn’t the only one watching her? What if somebody else sees her like this? His fingers itch, jaw clenching.

He’d kill them. He’d kill them in front of her, and the thought somehow made his cock hard even more. He grimaces, disturbed at the reaction of his body.

John doesn’t really understand the sexual aspects of killing, but now he’s thinking about how she would react if she sees him working. He’d kill someone in front of her and he’d see the look of disgust and betrayal in her face. He can already imagine how her eyes would well up with tears and fuck, his dick shouldn’t be this hard.

She’d fear him, and John would be turned on. How fucked up would that be? Just how fucked up can his mind get?

He resists the urge to wrap his hand around his cock because fuck no. He would not stoop this low, he is not a teenage boy. No matter how strong the thoughts get, the thoughts of wrapping his own hand around her neck, squeezing it hard and cutting off her airflow as John forces his cock in her cunt, hearing her mewl and scream and beg to just –

John sucks in air, eyes back on her in her room, wrapping a robe around herself and heading to the bathroom. This is fucked up. His cock is incredibly hard and leaking, and his mind won’t stop thinking about how good her pussy would feel around him.

He’d talk her through it. Whisper sweet nothings in her ear as she releases around her cock, praising her for being such a good girl. Then he’d fuck her again, in a different position, debauching her in different ways not even the devil himself could think of.

John would ruin her, and she will have no choice but to accept it.

He brings his hand to his face as he sighs deeply. He wonders what Helen would feel of what he’s doing. Disgusted, no doubt. This is not the same man she fell in love with years ago. He would never do something like this, but fate has its plans, and John believes everything happens for a reason.

She was brought into his life for a reason and it’s up to him whether he takes.

John doesn’t realize that he’s been staring at nothing for too long until she comes back in his view once again. Her hair is still wet, still wrapped up in a fluffy pink robe, and John’s fingers itch to grab, squeeze, possess.

He sees her picking up her phone, staring for a moment before her fingers start typing. John has been anticipating this moment for so long, the time has finally come.

In his chest pocket, his phone buzz silently, the vibration sending excitement in his whole body.

There it is.

13.06.15 11:46 PM UNKNOWN NUMBER : hello! this is Y/N from the club the other night

13.06.15 11:46 PM UNKNOWN NUMBER : also that Y/N who returned your super expensive looking coin hehe ;) i hope you didn’t forget about me!

There it fucking is.

John’s lips curl into a small smile. His efforts are finally paying off.

All he needs to do is to get what’s his.

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