#🔥 the devil themself | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

feastofcadavers · 7 months

Text

“Vampire. You can’t be sleeping on my work notes every time you finish eating!” The bitter voice of Alchemist made Vampire grimace as it covered up the sound of peaceful violin music being played over a nearby radio. He’d yawn, picking himself up from the spot that would be too small for him if he hadn’t stuck to bat form. He wouldn’t budge, instead rolling away from his sibling before being picked up and getting multiple squeaks out of him as he flailed around. “Get off! I’m trying to fix the both of us here!” Even if it was a bit harsh, Alch at least had the courtesy not to throw Vampire at the wall, and rather just dropped him on the floor. The red-headed sibling would groan, shifting out of bat form to shake off the fall.

“Sis… you’re so stressed over this… We’re gonna eat people still even if you do find something to fix this…” Vamp would sigh, flopping over to lay on the floor. “Besides, you’re gonna get in trouble… Y’know how that bastard loves overly excessive punishments…” Even with his warnings, and the warnings of the head of the manor, Alchemist would continue fussing about with research papers and whatever ingredients she could find from the outside. Tattered wings flittering with irritation, the shorter of the siblings would take care not to step on Vamp as she walked by to her cauldron. “This is about more than us.” She’d snip, taking a stepping stool up to get over the top of one of the only things she took with her. “There’s only two of us, and how many are out there? Approximately fifty or so?” Vamp thought there was a lot more, but it’s not like he’d count. “At an exponential rate of growth, this world will be eaten away at in mere decades!”

“A decade… Isn’t that a long time…?” The redhead would smile like a doofus when his sister looked back at him with scorn. “I’m just sayin’, I’d rather have someone else do what you’re doin’. There’s that Aloe person, maybe they could do it?”

“They are busy with their own difficulties.” Alch retorted, “If no one else can do it, I will. I don’t care if it risks my life if it means others don’t have to deal with the bullshit we do.” The swear made Vampire perk up, giving a small laugh, “Lil sis, you’re not supposed to say bad words!” “I’m in my twenties, batty, shut up.” “Fine, fiiiine…”

…

Vampire would sigh, looking over to the very radio he had listened to what felt to be forever ago. Batteries were dead, unable to make another peep. He remembers the music too clearly, it being one of Mint’s many songs being played at the time. He would be lying if he said that the music didn’t hold a special place in his heart for both him and his sister… Though that didn’t matter too much now. There wouldn’t be any more music from Mint considering the physical state he was in.

The drunkard took in a deep breath, exhaling as he laid back on the bed he’d been contemplatively staring at for who knows how long. Though as an irritating interruption to the relaxation he just started, there was a stir from across the room. Gaze falling to the singular chair of the room, Caramel was slowly coming to. Unfortunate, he was kind of hoping that he wouldn’t have to actually take care of anyone.

Picking himself up and striding over, Vamp would give the weak one a pat on the cheek. “Heeeeey buddy, wake uuup.” Thankfully, the groan that the drunk received was a good enough response to prove he was alive and fine. “Where-...” The white-haired individual would slur, unable to fully see or process anything around him. “Huh…” “Don’t worry tooooo much about what’s goin’ on, alriiiight?” Vamp would smile, trying to be at least a little polite. “Jus’ keeeeep resting, and I’m suuuure you’ll be fiiiine…” Even so, Vampire would be asked questions. Where are they? Who is he? Who am I? These would go answered, but barely. Short, few-word answers for the sake of brevity. Besides, there was something else on Vampire’s mind that kept him distracted.

“I don’t feeeel… all that hungry…” He’d murmur to himself, ignoring the confused look Caramel gave him. Indeed, his stomach didn’t feel as empty as it normally would. The cravings that normally were in the back of his mind were dulled. He felt… lighter, in a way. Did those two truly do it…? That lightness in his body quickly became tense. Something didn’t sit right about this.

Furrowing his brow, the drunkard took Caramel by the shoulders and slung him over his shoulders. The squeal and surprise that came from the apparent amnesiac was ignored as Vampire would practically run out of the room. “Where are we going?!” Cara would yelp, only to get the unsatisfactory answer of: “Somewhere verrrrry important. I neeeeed to check on someone suuuuuper important.”

…

They’re not here.

Where are they?

Vampire searched with an uncharacteristically tireless energy through the room that smelt even more like rotten flesh and blood than usual. What was once pulsing and squishing beneath one’s feet was now hard and dry- with three distinct lumps of dried flesh of concerningly large size catching the redhead’s attention. He’d set Caramel down- who was rightfully horrified by whatever the sweet Hell was going on around here- and with reckless abandon, tried to claw at the mounds of flesh.

Even if he was leaving scratch marks on the surface, there was very little progress being made. Despite this, Vampire would continue to try digging into the dead flesh again and again. There wasn’t any telling if this was even the right thing to do- if Mint, and Aloe as an afterthought, would be in these. What else was he to do? There was nothing else here?

“Uh… sir?” Caramel would whimper, “S-sir, above you…” Vampire would finally be pulled from his frantic scraping and look above the mounds. A bright red figure with little black horns standing atop of the dead skin was not the sight he expected to see. There was a startled scoff as he pulled back, bumping and knocking Caramel over without much care. “Who are you?!” He’d growl, immediately on guard as the figure just laughed at him.

“The Devil.” They’d reply, snickering at the other’s fear. “I’m sure you don’t know that, though! It’s not like everyone thinks of The Devil as some big, horrible monster and not… me! Just a little thing!” “I don’t care what you are…” Vampire’s wings flared open. “What did you do to the ones that came down here? What did you do to Mint?” The idle humming that the redhead received was all the more irritating to hear. The shrug he received wasn’t anything better. “It’s more like what they did to themselves! What, do you think I made them kill themselves?” “THEY WHAT!?” Vampire darted forward, trying and failing to grab the little scoundrel who just flew out of his way. He would have flown, too, if it weren’t for the fact he wouldn’t be able to focus enough to actually catch them. “You’re spouting lies! There’s no way they’d-... They wouldn’t do that!”

“Oh, reaaaaally?” The Devil flew back down, getting right against Vampire’s face with the biggest, most shit-eating grin. “You’re saying they’re both too selfish to sacrifice themselves for the world? One life for the benefit of so many others?”

“No, I’m not-! I’m-” Vampire would pause, taking just a moment to process what he’s been told as The Devil flew circles around him. “This is about more than us,” his sister’s voice echoed in his head, “I don’t care if it risks my life if it means others don’t have to deal with the bullshit we do.” Heart beating out of his chest, Vampire would find his will breaking down. Not him, too… Selfless sacrifice… What is wrong with them?!

Falling to his knees, the drunkard would attempt to stifle sobs, only to have that dam burst too easily. Screaming and wailing, Vampire would fall forward, punching against the dead flooring beneath him. “Not again!” He’d cry, “I don’t want to lose someone again! I can’t fucking take this!” Heartbroken, will broken, and with nothing else to lose… Vampire would press his head into the floor, and then begin bashing it in. “Why couldn’t I have been the one?! Not her,” his head hurt, “not him,” his heart hurt, “not either of them!” He felt as though he could fall apart at this moment, as if he hadn’t already.

Heaving with the skin on his forehead broken open enough to bleed, Vampire would inevitably pick himself back up. Not to a stand, but to a kneel. “Devil.” He’d speak flatly, devoid of care. To his surprise, the little red runt would leave their little bit of picking on Caramel to fly in front of Vampire’s sight. “Yeaaa?” “I’d like to make a deal.” “Ooh, classic! We love deals with The Devil!” The snickering would be interrupted as Vampire would take the little thing by the neck, squeezing and bringing them close. “I want those precious to me back. I don’t care what it takes.”

“Well-” The Devil coughed, turning a bit more purple than red thanks to being choked. “Usually I need something precious- like a person or whatever-” Easily granted. Vampire would use his other hand and pull out the charm of his sweet, late sister. “Done.” Even so, the struggling creature in his hand didn’t take it. “Actually, I-I need a blood sacrifice! Yea! Like a person, a precious person-” The Devil was promptly slammed into the mound that still had lingering claw marks on its surface. “I don’t HAVE those because they’re already DEAD!!” Tears dripped from Vampire’s chin at the admittance. It was true, yes, but it was even harder to say. “Then-” The little thing struggled, but wasn’t given mercy. “-then I can’t do it!” “YES YOU CAN, YOU BASTARD.” Did this demon have bones? From the creaking sounds Vamp heard, it certainly seemed like it. “GIVE ME MY FAMILY BACK- GIVE ME MY LOVE BACK-” “He doesn’t e-even love you that much-” “SHUT UP! SHUT UP, SHUT UP!” He’d take The Devil by both hands, raising them up and slamming them onto the floor, getting the miscreant to hoarsely scream in pain as their bones cracked against the hardened flesh beneath them.

“If you won’t give them back… Then I’ll- I’ll just-...” Vampire bared his fangs, looking down at the feeble excuse for a demon in his hands. They were trembling, as if they were somehow powerless despite being The Devil. For something that seemed to be able to do so much, they certainly were doing so little. “I’ll take them back mysssself.” Throwing his head forward, the vampire would dig his teeth deep into The Devil’s flesh. It felt fizzy. Delicious. The taste nearly made him feel dizzy as he tore away the skin at The Devil’s neck. Uncaring for the spewing fluid that stained his face and his clothes, the vampire would continue to chomp and rend flesh from bone. There was a small touch to his shoulder, prompting the redhead to look behind him and hiss, the action splattering blood onto poor Caramel. With that amnesic annoyance too scared to do much else other than an attempt to run out- not that the bloodsucker would care- the feasting upon The Devil would continue.

The Vampire’s skin felt hot as the blood that felt strangely carbonated would be lapped up and swallowed. No part of this creature’s body would be left unscathed. Knawing on bone, chewing through cartilage, devouring red meat with all the fervor of a starved animal. Biting was used as a method to dig deep into the newly stilled corpse- Tearing away innards and consuming whatever was haphazardly deemed edible. No muscle left untorn, no piece of bone left unbroken… “This is… my ssstory…” The Vampire would speak breathlessly, having barely taken the time to inhale between severing organs with its mouth alone. “I’ll make thissss my… ending…”

When the feeding was finally over, The Vampire would wobbly lift itself from the corpse it had created, looking around the room with a sharp gaze. “What will it take… for me to have you both back…?” It would murmur, eyes affixed on the dead flesh. “What ssssacrifice do I need to make…?” It took a deep breath, looking down at its bloodied hands, and its sister’s charm. “Do I need to ssstart it all over? Isss that what… will ssssave you?”

The cold, putrid-smelling air would become still as The Vampire stood. Swaying in place, contemplating. The compulsion of yearning, the obsession of hunger… Without that, where was it? “No devil to deal with… then, perhapsss…” The lost one would kneel in front of the mounds of flesh, finding it far too easy to tear them open. Wrong on two tries, and puzzled as to why there was an unrecognizable golden-colored corpse here, it would eventually find the half-eaten away body of what was one of its sole motivators for so long. “I’ll make a deal with myssself…”

Dragging the green and white haired body out of the mound, The Vampire didn’t bat an eye at the exposed nerves and bones that were left to open air from the flesh that hadn’t yet devoured him fully. “You need a proper sssacrifice,” it told itself, “what will you do with the dead?” Such a question brought a laugh from itself as it knelt down and gave a gentle kiss to the partially decayed forehead of the violinist’s cold, unmoving body.

“Until I can ssssave what belongssss to me…” Hands steady, the redhead would gently take a portion of Mint’s hair and tie it in a very awkward-looking ponytail with its sister’s charm. It… looked nice, all things considered. “I will treat this world as my rightful feasssst… for the cadaverssss of those I love… I will create as many more bodiesss as I need to have them back.” The Vampire would reach its hands gently beneath the body of the half-consumed, picking him up with all the gentle nature of a widow.

“I’ll ressstart thisss Hell if I have to. But until then…” Looking down at the mangled mess that was Mint’s body, it would breathe a small sigh of relief. “At least I have ssssomething to hold on to…”

#📝 written scriptures #🎻 the court's conflicted #mint choco cookie #devil cookie #🔥 the devil themself #feastofcadavers #vampire cookie #🍷 the bewitching drunkard #alchemist cookie #🍇 the one feasted upon #cw sui mention #cw violence #cw body horror #cw gore #cw cannibalism

9 notes · View notes

placeinthemiddleofnowhere · 5 months

Text

The Devil You Know (Part 1) - The First Sin

Pairing: Demon! Captain John Price x Reader

(No use of y/n)

Warnings: This series will contain scenes of a violent and sexual nature, I will be more specific as I write more parts.

Summary: Reader is a soldier hanging on to their last gasp of life, trying to summon a demon associated with soldiers and battlefields in order to aid them. Unluckily for you though, the demon isn't interested in a short term deal. He finds himself quite attached to you, and he doesn't want to let you go.

-🔥-

Disembodied hands shook wildly as they set about their terrible task. At least that’s how it seemed to you - appendages moving around a blurred screen, drawing dirtied red symbols with panicked uncertainty. You swiped another slick fingerful of your blood into the dusty concrete and clenched your aching teeth together, finishing off the last curve of the sigil with a snakish hiss.

“I call to you…with the blood of my battle wounds. Jo- Jotan, I will be your willing servant.”

You looked around, eyes darting wildly for movement or any sign that your ridiculous little saving grace had worked. Though nothing happened. You blinked feverishly, feeling your lip wobble at first and then your entire body shake as you absorbed the facts in front of you. You were actually going to die.

A cackle broke out into the room, competing with the baying gunshots outside to break the walls of the decaying shell of a building. It was you. You were finally losing your mind, absorbing the facts in front of you with detached horror.

Perhaps the ruins were an office before, but now it was the final resting place of a desperate lunatic who’d decided to decorate their sepulchre before laughing themselves into death’s arms. The cruelty of it burned in your throat and stang at your eyes, soon searing hot tears into the ruined flesh of your cheeks.

It was a foolish last ditch effort anyway, you mused, collapsing onto your back in the middle of the blood seal. A stupid myth you’d clung to in a final attempt to save your life, a ritual told to you by someone that was long dead themself. If they presumably hadn’t bothered to use it, then why would it do you any good?

“Oh dear…I’m not too late am I?” cooed a soft rumbling voice.

Your eyes opened wide, the owner of the call demanding to be seen. That murmur fizzled in your ears and vibrated in your blood, forcing your hands to scrabble at the ground and set you into a sitting position again.

When you finally rose, you were held in place by the stranger. His onyx black eyes pinned you into place, watching you twitching and panting like a caught mouse. Apparently you amused him with this. His lips pulled into a grin, revealing a row of white teeth that curved into points at the canines and outer incisors, it was the smile of a predator. As if he needed to advertise any more warning signs.

His body was big and broad, his chest a large plane of solid flesh dusted with soot and soft dark hair that matched his bristly beard and hickory hued hair. His large arms were decorated with similar etchings to the ones you’d messily painted, both of them circled in two iron bands at the bicep and forearms, they looked like they could crack teeth in a pinch. There were also a few bands on the thick dark tail that waved behind him too, a detail you only noticed as it seemed to lovingly caress the shadows around his legs.

It was what finally confirmed for you that this was him. The fabled demon of battlefields - Jotan.

“You came,” you whispered.

“You called,” he returned, tilting his head at you. “Surprised you managed to complete the circle. You’ve lost a lot of blood, Sergeant.”

“I…I have,” you replied, feeling another wave of nausea roll through you.

“And I suppose you want me to do something about that?” he said, mouth twisting into a wry half smile.

It was almost worse than when you’d seen his fanged teeth. He looked positively ready to devour you, his gleaming eyes fixed on you like a tiger. You were just waiting for him to pounce, breath catching in your dry throat as you anticipated the killing bite. Suddenly you’d forgotten that it was you that called the terrible entity here, that he was supposed to be serving you rather than terrifying you.

“C’mon now, Love. You clearly knew enough about the ritual to get me here…aren’t you going to follow through?” he prompted, leaning down to meet you at your level. “It’s rude to keep a demon waiting, you know.”

His arms folded over his dark trousers, crossing over each other at his lap as if he were asking you to do something so completely mundane. He tilted his head at you again, flicking his eyes up to the doorway on the other side of the room as it started to shudder and bang. Voices were worming their way through the debris, shouts blasting in through the cracks.

Bang, bang, bang.

You didn’t have much time. Not that your body would be able to hold on much longer anyway.

“I want you to- please…take me back to exfil. Get me the fuck out of here and safely back to base and I’ll do whatever you want,” you said, voice cracking as you made your plea. “Ask anything you want from me, Jotan. Just get me the fuck away from here.”

His eyes curved into shadowed moons, once again he beamed at you. It felt like the stifling room heated a few more degrees. To add insult to injury your lungs began to struggle, it felt like your body was in its last stages of failing.

You briefly wondered if all this just might be a delusion. Maybe your head was presenting you with him as a way to cope with being turned to pink mist by the men that still called from the door outside, as a way to forget about your torn up arms that’d been sliced open by the bombings, and the bullet hole that had been weeping silently in your leg.

Bang, bang, bang.

“I’ll tell you what…I’m feelin’ generous,” the demon murmured, reaching out and forcing your chin up with in his charred fingers. “I’ll take you back to base, just like you want. And now…I could ask for your soul in return, for you to be my eternal servant when you do meet your end, and I really could have you do anything for me. However I won’t do that. Instead, I want to lend you my power. Just for today. That is my only offer.”

You frowned, a million racing thoughts crashing through your mind all at the same time. You’d made peace with the fact he’d ask for something awful, known it even. This clearly had to be a trick. Nevertheless, your head throbbed perilously and the door and furniture you’d messily propped in front of it were going to give way.You didn't have much time.

Bang, bang, bang.

“What will I do with your power?” you asked desperately, looking from him and to the end of the room.

“Let me worry about that,” he chuckled. “I’ll guide you, Sergeant. All you have to do is agree…that or let them flood in and kill you.”

Bang, bang, bang.

He motioned to the thundering door and raised his brows at you. At that point his dark eyes were like vortexes, they dragged you into his orbit and had you falling under his spell. You knew logically that whatever was going to happen was going to change the course of your life forever - and not for the good. Even then, you couldn’t find the strength to deny him, couldn’t hold enough faith in a glorious next life to accept that you’d leave this one.

“Fine! I accept,” you said, eyes wet and heavy.

An animal growl rattled through your bones and shuddered throughout the skeleton remains of the office space. Your body flinched back, responding just as your instincts wanted, but the demon didn’t allow you to retreat. He was quick - arms lashing out and moving like a whip. He gripped your neck like a farmer does to his chickens come dinner time, and just when you were ready for the snap, your body jerked violently.

You forced yourself to your feet, no, you surged upwards like you were under possession. Your legs didn’t feel like they’d buckle anymore, they felt renewed. Your heartbeat was steady like a punctual train, and your breathing returned to normal, better than normal even. Everything in you felt like it was new, like someone had taken out your broken parts and given you an upgrade. You smiled, lips curling over your teeth unnaturally.

Wait- were those…fangs poking into your bottom lip?

Bang!

There was no time to wonder at the strange way your mouth felt. Your head jerked up and suddenly you were greeted with the second worst sight of the day. The enemy soldiers had you surrounded, they flooded into the room like a locust swarm and pointed their guns at you, faithfully looking toward their Captain for the authority to execute.

Normally you would’ve shuddered, or maybe even fallen to the floor, but you held fast. Your breathing remained calm, but your vision went dark. That’s not to say you passed out, but a thick hazy filter seemed to descend across your eyes. Then just when you were about to question it, your arms reached out as if you were being puppeteered and your entire body unwillingly shot forward.

There was no time to even think to connect your actions to the seemingly absent demon then. Instead you latched onto the soldier in front of you like a bear and sank your teeth into his neck. The man screamed, and yelped, and made all sorts of inhuman noises as he struggled to try and pull you off. Though there was no helping him. You continued to bite at his arteries and savage him until his screams were silent and overtaken by the men around him.

Gunshots rang out, but none pierced you. Men beat at your back and pulled at your arms, but you didn’t break your hold. Copper filled your mouth, but you didn’t spit. You smiled with glee and licked at your own salty tears, disengaging from your target only when you were ready.

Little did you know, this was only the beginning of the butchery.

-🔥-

“For fuck sake, get yersel’ to the sink ye riot!”

You jumped out of your thoughts and hazarded a quick look up to your worried manager, following that up by nodding silently and running off to the bathroom. Fuck. All that you could do was grimly stare down at the blood while it merged with the clean tap water and remind yourself that it was fine. You weren’t outside the wire anymore, you were just wait staff in a small restaurant, and you didn’t need to worry about bleeding out anymore because the biggest hazard you faced now was apparently picking up a dirty knife the wrong way.

“Fucking hell,” you chuckled, quietly facing yourself in the mirror and taking a pause from the gory scene below. “It’s just a tiny cut.”

For a second, so quick you only just registered it, black eyes flashed behind you. You jumped back and hyperventilated, doing everything you could to stop yourself from screaming. Though it couldn’t be helped. You forced your hands over your mouth and yelled a muffled cry into your palms instead and rode out your panicked heartbeats until you could be sure you wouldn’t collapse.

You did a double take, searching the mirror for those horrible eyes or any other signs of their proprietor. However, there was nothing else to see but a pathetic ex soldier, black tile and cheap imitation herringbone wood flooring. Suddenly you felt absolutely ridiculous.

You slipped your hands from your mouth and covered your eyes instead, rubbing at hideously embarrassing tears with anger. That stupid therapist you were going to was so wrong, you thought bitterly, you were never going to make progress. You constantly swore that you could see those demonic eyes wherever you went, and sometimes you even thought you saw him. Well not the demon exactly, but a man that so closely resembled him - just without the tail and black eyes.

It’d been a full year since you’d been honourably discharged from the military, and even in all that time, you still hadn’t healed. Sure, the cuts and bullet wounds had made miraculous progress and faded to tiny scars, but inside you may as well have been a shooting range dummy right at the end of target practice. While your superiors had seen fit to dedicate you with a medal for the miraculous fight you put up against the enemy, your head still hadn’t gotten to grips with just how you did it.

Multiple therapists had put it down to repressed memory. They told you that whatever had really happened must’ve been replaced with that accursed demon summoning ritual that you dreamed up in an adrenaline filled haze. They said you might remember it all eventually once you’d healed more, or even that you might never get the answers you sought. There was no footage from your vest cam, and no other eyewitnesses left alive to say what had happened. Just you and your janky, wacky memories.

“Hey, Riot! You gonna come back on shift anytime soon or do I have to explain to Marco why the big bad ex-soldier is dying over a little cut?”

You turned to the door and smiled to yourself, feeling your chest grow lighter the second you heard that voice. Emily always knew how to pull you out of a funk. With that in mind, you shook your head, felt your goosebumps retreat away and stepped out into the scorching warmth of the restaurant. Once more back into the fray.

“The big bad ex-soldier had a lot of blood coming out that little cut,” you shrugged, “can’t be creating a healthcode violation, you know that.”

Emily raised one of her thick dark eyebrows in question and put her hands on her hips. Oh no, this was the serious stance. In fairness, the tables were mobbed that night and she’d been run off her feet by two difficult tables that were ‘not getting acceptable service by any definition of the word’ as one of them had apparently said.

“Put a blue plaster on it and get back out here before I give you a real war wound,” she growled.

Your eyes widened, but you still smiled despite yourself.

“You’re the boss!”

You rushed off to do as she said, ready to come back out and assist her, and if necessary neutralise any threat to her sanity. Emily was one of the few people you’d reconnected with after coming back home, and anyone that messed with her henceforth, was now messing with you.

She’d seen you out and about at the park one day, taking one of your ‘haunted walks’ as she called them - only because you had trouble sleeping and would walk around in a black hoodie with the hood up. It was like something clicked, after being so reluctant to share anything with your family, or military buddies that tried to reach out, it was like you’d found your key. You’d babbled to her about how badly you were struggling to adjust to civilian life, leaking your frustrations like a bled radiator, and she accepted you. She listened without pity.

Now while you wound a plaster round your silly little cut, you watched her zoom round the tables with true gratitude. She was the only reason you’d gotten the job, and been able to integrate back into real life. As much as you had your moments of frustrations, and had brief run ins with your PTSD, you at least had something to distract yourself with. Something that grabbed your attention and set your breathing straight again, when before you would curl in the corner of your room and scream for many minutes at a time.

Once the plaster was affixed, you fiddled with the cracked old first aid box and wrangled it shut, stowing it back into place with a thud before rushing back out to the floor. The smell of garlic and pasta filled your senses, and the voices of the patrons roared rapturously in your ears again. The normal hustle and bustle of the place set you back into your rhythm and the ramped up tempo sent you hurtling toward the kitchen.

“Where’ve you fucking been?” one of the chefs groused, “we’ve got a million plates for table ten here that need serving! I can hear them bitching from here, get moving!”

“Had a little accident getting the plates to Frankie,” you said, motioning to the plaster and your fraught KP behind the pass. “Good to go now!”

Rather than stay to hear the chef's curses, you rushed off with the plates and delivered them to the table, plastering on a smile as the customers moaned up a storm to your face. After offering them your apologies and promises of free sides, they hushed up and all was good again. You tended to your other tables and resumed duty as normal, rotating around Emily and the other waiter, Michael, like little clockwork toys. You all ticked along perfectly, leaving full stomachs and mostly happy faces in your wake.

“Can you take this to table thirteen, please? I gotta piss like crazy!”Micheal ordered.

He handed you a steak that was positively dripping in blood, almost setting you off again were it not for the fact that you were so confused by his request. There’s potatoes and salad and sauce on that plate, you thought to yourself, its not a body, just a hunk of meat.

“There isn’t a table thir-” you started, soon trailing off.

Michael had long since dashed off before you could correct him and you sighed to yourself. Great, now who on earth could this be for? You knew every table in the restaurant of course, your knowledge on the place was near perfect with Emily acting like a drill sergeant during your probation stages. However, you didn’t know where thirteen could be, because it didn’t exist. Most people knew that restaurants skipped that number because it was unlucky. Apparently not Michael though.

“I believe that’s for me,” called a rumbling voice.

You frowned and looked down to the man before you, startling as you realised that a table had been placed where it shouldn’t have, and in turn you were standing right over a poor customer. No wonder Michael had made the mistake, you had no idea where the table had even come from. Though you were too embarrassed to worry very much about that in the moment, you needed to recover in front of the man before you made an idiot out of yourself.

“Apologies, sir,” you said with a nervous laugh. “It’s been a busy night. Can I get you anything else?”

You placed down the food in front of him and were glad for it after you’d made eye contact. There was something strange about the man that made you jump. His stunning blue eyes captured your gaze and made you feel like you were in the middle of a laser sight. You gulped and looked away for a second afterward, trying your best to compose yourself.

“Thank you,” the man said softly, still fixing his eyes on you. “This is perfect.”

His sly grin struck you as familiar, but when you studied the man more, you couldn’t place him. He had a dark peacoat draped over his chair and wore a black shirt and fitted jeans. His beard was trim and cut close to his jawline, and his hair was near perfect, combed back neatly over his head. Everything about him was perfectly ordinary, perhaps would’ve been completely innocuous if not for his eyes.

You could’ve sworn there was a little black band circling the pupil, but just as you thought you’d lost yourself in them he chuckled at you. Causing your face to flame up in burning shame.

“I’m so sorry for staring,” you apologised, holding your hands up in appeasement. “I don’t know what that was about, sorry. You just seemed familiar for a sec.”

“Oh really?” he laughed, “Don’t happen to know a Jonathan Price do you?”

“Jonathan Price?” you repeated questioningly.

“My name, sweetheart,” he grinned, showing off his pointy canines. “Though you can just call me John if you like.”

“Oh my god, my brain’s going tonight,” you laughed, trying to get yourself away from him and the bloody steak that seemed to ooze with every passing second. “I’ll stop bothering you now, Jonathan! Enjoy your steak.”

His name sat heavy on your tongue, as if a fizzy sweetie had stung at the nerves and left it swollen and red. Jonathan. There was something about it that didn’t fit right. An unnatural force wanted you to turn round and call him a liar, demand that he reveal himself for who he really was.

Though you didn’t put much credence in unnatural forces anymore. Not when unnatural forces tended to be symptoms of your mental illness. Instead you shook your head and kept working, making a note to yourself that you needed to get more sleep that night. Sleep and meds usually helped, and you were praying that they’d set you right again the next day.

#Demon!Price #captain john price #captain price x reader #mw2 #call of duty

376 notes · View notes

iloveyouinred · 10 months

Note

ok hello :D Annon from earlier but heres a something that has been absolutely rotting my brain out, never done a req b4 so sry if this is bad Like imagine a yandere genshin man (of ur choice) fucking the reader and practically sobbing (bc they so happy to be able to do it with s/o/reader) and stopping a bunch of times mid sex just to ask ther if they love him and edging the reader and themself just bc they want to hear them say it and like the reader is getting hella annoyed but the guy isnt even edging them completely on purpose or anything. (And like they aint going easy either its rough but they are just smooth talking). Praise and stuff idk i could see this with like Venti, Thoma, Kaveh and maybe Cyno Idk what to say about what i just wrote -///-

thank you for listening to my brain rot

𓇬♡ | Note: Hi anon, your headcanon is very 🔥🔥🔥 lovely! I can imagine how much they love the reader to be asking that like times. It will be either obsession or the sweet insecure boy type. *Sigh* We love desperate boys. Anyway i don't know if i potray your idea correctly(it come out softer than i imagine), but here it is. Please enjoy! :D

Yandere!Genshin Male x Reader

𓇬♡ | Warning: NSFW, implying obsessive behavior, drugging, noncon, etc.

𓇬♡ | Word Count: 746 word

You desperately need to cum. He has been edging you with his fingers for some time now. When he stops moving once again, saying 'I love you' while locking his eyes with yours, waiting for you to say the same. Tears rolled down your cheek by how needy your body has become. Your hip tries to move on its own to chase the pleasure. Yet his grip on your hip only tightens. It will surely leave some mark tomorrow. He pulls his fingers out, earning a desperate cry from you. His hand goes to the side of your face, wiping your tears stained cheek. "Say it back, love. Say it for me, okay?" He whispers in a sweet tone that will deceive even the devil. As if he is your lover and not a stranger that suddenly got you splayed across the nearest flat surface he can find. You know him, he has quite a reputation in your country. But you guys never really talk or have any contact with one another. Of course you were just an ordinary person. So it was strange when he approached you and started a small conversation with you. One topic leading to another, he was truly a great chat buddy. It reaches the point where he lures you into a secluded place. You were promised a place with a great view. He didn't lie, there was even a small cottage to rest there. He just didn't mention the part where he fuck you, shamelessly demanding the same word to fell off your lips. Oh, but he did slip something in your drink first, in case you disagree with his ideals. Which probably played a major role in the heat that burned you like a bitch.

Love? If those words can get him to move his fucking finger- or even better, put his cock in you to help you get off this heat-, you will say it a hundred times.

"I love you- so please-" You sound desperate enough for him to pity you. Kissing your lips softly as he pulls out his painfully hard length before humping it on your folds. You let out a muffled moan at his tease. Tears welling up your eyes at the sensation. He slowly drags it along your walls while entering you. Leaving you choked at how his veiny cock rubbing your inside.

"Please.." You squirm as you feel his length twitch inside you, hearing your voice tremble under him. He partially sobs at how good you feel around his length. It's like his hips moving on its own, meeting the back of your thigh with a laud slap each time he moves. He watched your eyes roll back as his tears dripped on your face. Overwhelm by how his cock continuously rammed into you, hitting spots you never knew were there.

He breathed out a moan, "Pretty-"

"-My pretty girl." He is singing praises, while kissing your whole face. Slowly move down to suck your neck.

"Mm- love you-" You let out a breathless gasp as he shove his cock into you deeper and faster. Your body arch back, toes curling at the sudden hit of pleasure. Finally reaching your well deserved release. He gives you a sloppy kiss, mumbling 'I love you more.' on your lips as he spilled his cum inside you. He keeps his twitching cock inside your hole for a moment before pulling out, watching as his liquid drips out of you. You are still gasping from the mind numbing orgasm, to high to realise his content smile as he watch your fuck out expression. Holding you in his hand as he bites down your shoulder blade, sucking and licking along the line. You squirm from the ticklish sensation but his hold on your waist was quite firm. His fingers sliding between your folds to rub your clit. Just a little more. He wants to hear your pretty voice just a little more, moaning his name and inclining some incoherent words. He lets you close your thigh around his hand, trembling as you easily reach your next orgasm. He silenced your moan with a kiss. Hoping to crave how your lips taste in his memory.

The next 'I love you.' come in the form of the softest whisper you ever heard. It almost misses your hearing if he is not right by your side. Holding you in his embrace. You slowly drowse off against him, surrounded by his warmth.

Ft. Venti, Thoma, Kazuha, Kaveh, Cyno

574 notes · View notes

gust-jar-simulator · 8 months

Text

Currently contemplating this as the start of a chapter fic, since a few people were really interested in my idea that the Four Sword feeds on life energy and might turn Four into a vampire.

Linked Universe, Four-centric, and the manga is canon in my heart.

~⛰️🔥🌊🌪️~

The rug for stuffing personal needs under had a limit, and Four had crossed it a week ago. He hadn’t, however, realized it quite yet.

It goes like this:

Within the first week of the intertemporal road trip from hell, the Four Sword stopped charging magic attacks. They were torn about it. On the one hand, didn’t it use their own magic, which got replenished with food and rest? It was a simple magic, a knight’s magic, but surely the sword couldn’t just lose a function. They bickered with themself (selves?) about it, in between fighting and walking and attempting to socialize like they weren’t a scrambled house of cards inside, but the Four Sword was still a sword. They could fight without charge attacks, and they wouldn’t be using its signature ability around a group of strangers.

They were crazy enough without outside commentary.

(They weren’t sure what would happen, if they split on another quest. What would they become this time?)

So they kept the worry as something to pick over, alongside the ever-present busy work of polishing shields and rewrapping hilts. Vio liked a puzzle, and it wouldn’t kill anyone. Either he solved it or he didn’t- there was too much going on to be worried about their rudimentary war-magic. They had a fire rod, a hammer. It could be put aside.

What couldn’t be put aside, roughly three weeks into things, was the way Blue started getting antsy.

Hey.

A slow, meditative flex of their fingers, a habit Blue had picked up to regulate himself- and it bled through so strong they-as-Four did it, rotating their wrist to hear a bracer creak.

Did we eat this morning?

Yes, mused back loose soil and dry leaves, disinterested. Wild made sausages.

Red’s presence popped into place, a scatter of sparks. Snack?

We’re on the move, Green murmured back, low and decisive. We should save resources. The body isn’t hungry, do you just need something to fidget with?

No. Something lurked under the word, and they-as-Four did a quick glance around, stepping further away from the edge of the road. Dirt in a field, perfectly fine, but something in their gut felt cold like bottomless drops from the edge of an ice shelf. The sun was shining, the other heroes were chatting, but it felt… odd. Like a painting. Something seen through glass. Are you sure we’re not hungry?

We can’t be, the skirl of a dust devil, gentle but exasperated. we haven’t done much more than usual, and we ate well. And we’d all feel it. Vio? Red?

I’m a little bored. I want to read, that’s all, and they all ignored the flicker of thoughts under thoughts, purple hair soft under fingers and a cool shoulder bumping theirs. Vio said he wanted to read a lot, and sometimes he even meant it.

Red always meant what he said, by contrast. I don’t think I need anything? I mean I want to split, and I want to try skipping backwards, and the sun feels really good- can we roll up our sleeves or something? More sun is always good, and it’s a pretty day- but I’m okay. He’d been busy the last few miles bouncing pun ideas with Green, in the name of bonding with the group.

Nodding their head, Green kept his eyes on the road and subtly arched a brow, letting Blue feel it. I just want to get where we’re going, wherever that is. I know we normally stop and check for Minish, but it’s honestly been the same thing day in and day out for weeks and I’m tired. And maybe, irrationally, if they threw themselves at the boring pattern of the divine plan it would finally cough up more clues. More progress. Anything other than the monotony. Green liked a good adventure, but so far the adventure was “some sort of black lizard makes portals”. He needed more. He needed something.

Blue didn’t answer, and Green felt himself frown as the other two paused.

“What?” Under their breath, a quick glance around to make sure no one looked back at them, pushing the words past teeth and tongue to carve them into sense. “I’m just-“

You’re not having fun. The inexorable grip of deep water. You love this kind of shit, we’re so far from home it’s insane, and you haven’t looked at a single cloud. Red’s acting like we’ve been inside for a month and wants our entire shirt off. Vio’s doing Vio shit. Their hand flexed again, slow and methodical and tense. I want to fight.

That’s not new? Fireplace crackling. You like fighting.

No. Listen. Black ice, storm water, but what made it more disturbing was that Blue sounded almost gentle. He wasn’t snapping, wasn’t pushing, very nearly holding their mental hands to make them pay attention, and Four’s heart was hummingbird-fast. I don’t need to… work shit out, I’m not any more pissy than usual, it’s- it’s like being hungry. I want to. Our blood’s too fucking calm. I need to be- alive, or something, need to crush a skull to fix mine, and it’s kind of fucking with me actually. Hooray, good on us for not being in danger 24/7, but I existed at home just fine without feeling like I need more. You get me?

We are, Vio pointed out, on a dangerous quest far from home. It’s likely anxiety.

Feels like a craving.

We’re used to stress, their earth parried, and without trouble we’re apparently borrowing some. We’ll find you something to fidget with, and volunteer to chop firewood tonight.

We’re all scared. A candle-flicker, bright and watchful. Do you guys wanna talk about it?

“I want,” Green muttered firmly, “to get a move on. We’re out in the open right now- I don’t want to open up our emotions and be interrupted by moblins. We can address it later.”

I guess…

They didn’t talk about it later.

#my writing #lu four #red link #green link #blue link #vio link

28 notes · View notes

irrigos · 6 months

Note

🔥 and 🎩 for the ask game!

🔥 — Least favourite Master of the Bazaar?

I just answered this one!

But now that I think about it, I have more OCs. So:

Jacob: Mr Veils

Percy: Happles

🎩 — What would an Exceptional Story featuring this character be about?

Morgan: You help Hepsi Brewster acquire a gift for her husband, Morgan. Unfortunately, you're going to have to steal it (from a devil, no less!) because the gift she wants to give them is their own soul back. Morgan themself probably doesn't appear in the story until the very end.

Eliot: Honestly, I can't think of a good one focused on Eliot! He's a fun character, but I think he would work better as a side character in another ES than in one focused on him specifically.

Jacob: Five Minutes to Midday

Percy: I've actually thought about Percy's before, because it makes me laugh. A tiger diplomat from Port Carnelian asks you to check on his son, who lives in London and hasn't been responding to his letters. (He would also like you to convince his son to move back to Port Carnelian) After some investigation, you meet his son, and he's just like. some guy??? This tiger's son is literally just a human man in his early 20s. That's as far as I've thought because the fact that Percy's dad is a tiger and he's a human is still the funniest thing in the world to me.

Fallen London OC ask game

#ask meme

2 notes · View notes

anawkwardgalnamedtarazan · 2 years

Text

The Devil's old gang:

The Sindicate 🔥😈

(from left to right)

Mammon/Mam🦊💲:

Twin brother of Beelzebub.

As a Cherub, Mam was invested in Heaven's gold (ex. buildings, clothes) and wants it for himself. He soon took up blacksmithing and alchemy to make his own gold. When he joined the Rebellion against Heaven, he provided Louie's army with weapons of destruction and elixirs to heal their wounds.

After the Fall, Mam used his alchemy and metallurgy skills to form Pandemonium, Hell's capitol city. During the city's construction, he and Mulciber (a fellow blacksmith) have discovered raw Demon magic which they dubbed Necroplasm; Devil's Goo to others. With the goo, Hell could create more demon subjects, preserve it's cities, and prolong lifespans of it's human associates.

Mam was appointed as head of Hell's treasury and small businesses. He would very often be caught trying to smuggle gold and jewels during important appointments. Some habits are hard to break.

Mam has a knack for planning out scams to trick mortals. And he always knows how to find the best spots; such as towns that crave entertainment or are focused on taking the "easy" way out.

Can manipulate rock and metal (especially gold and silver) to form armor. That was how he formed Pandemonium.

Asmodeus/Oz🐐💋:

Goes by they/them pronouns.

A fallen Cherubim and classmate of Belphegor who joined the Rebellion in hopes of equality; they ended up killed in battle as a result. Thankfully*, the Devil used some raw magic formed by falling angels to bring them back. But the darkness of that magic caused boils that mutated into 2 more heads on Oz... which they eventually got used to.

Specializes in love potions and weather magic, such as summoning massive storms as a battle strategy.

During their youth, Oz had been looked over by Devil, whom they've seen as a big brother.

They oversee the second Circle of Hell. There, souls are punished for committing adultery and rape by dragging them against a hot desert with intense sand storms,which Oz themself conjured up.

Oz oversees the gambling activity of Hell and Earth. In fact it was their idea for the Devil to form the casino, to put the mortals' desire for riches to good use.

Helps in the Sindicate's soul-stealing cause, but is much more invested in exploring human culture (especially their theater).

They once posed as a comedy trio (using their bull and sheep heads) named the Lummoskis, the stars of a comedy show popular in the Inkwell Isles.

Their bull and sheep heads have their own personalities and names. The bull, Moe, being aggressive but willing to listen to reason. The sheep, Deus, more snooty and wants to keep a fancy front for Hell's sake (anxiety?).

Beelzebub/Beezle🐷🍎:

Twin brother of Mammon.

Joined the same Angel's choir as Louie, who he grew very close to. They would bond over their favorite songs and moves in Angel games (like weather ball). Louie even asked him personally to be lieutenant in the Rebellion, which Beezle accepted with glee.

Became Hell's top military tactician and bureaucratic advisor, overseeing all activities of war and inspiring demon worship. Beezle used his position to form the Order of the Flies, a group of Hell's most elite warriors and ambassadors. They along with the Princes reside over the city of Pandemonium and training new recruits.

As an army nut, Beezle often likes to take the easy way and head right into battle.

Beezle remembers his choir days quite fondly, and often finds himself singing in baritone. Mam quite enjoys his brother's songs, but they thinks it could use a bit more percussion.

Has the powers of super strength and to communicate with animals.

He had his stomach slashed by rocks after his fall. That scar mutated, with some help from raw Demon magic, and it formed a second mouth* that can inhale the souls of its victims.

Often trusted to dogsit the Devil's dog Cerberus, whom he adores play fighting with!

Lucifer/Satan/The Devil😈🔥:

The leader of the pack (of course).

Was once a Cherub named Sathanel who couldn't quite get the hang of his magic, which was still developing. This often caused much mischief, and burnt-down temples during his Angel training. His wish for acceptance led him to seeing Abaddon to teach him how to control his powers, and his emotions.

He changed his name to Lucifer Morningstar during his time as an Archangel, due to his guiding light for lost souls.

During the Rebellion, Louie was inspired by his past to found the Sindicate, a group made of Angels who were looked down on for their "quirks" like he was.

Louie at first sought to just take the corrupt souls to prove demons weren't all bad, but this was met with more prejudices from humanity for their unworldly magic and appearances. Tired of his family's suffering, he vowed to collect the souls of ALL mortals to make room for demonkind to thrive. This meant becoming the monster that so many have feared him to be, even dubbing himself as the Devil to seal the deal.

As a former Archangel, the Devil has mastery over shape shifting and charisma (occasionally).

Despite his beliefs, Devs would base some aspects of Hell's society off of human culture; such as their music, businesses, transportation, and even their food (like cake).

As ruler of Hell, he oversee's all soul-collecting activity and demon society... with some help from his court.

His immense magic is channeled through his pitchfork. Which may explain why it lets him float and teleport. Mam helped build it as a weapon for the Rebellion.

Leviathan 🐍🌊:

A former Chalkydri, a serpent-like Angel, that went to school with Louie. was envious of how everyone excelled while he was a late bloomer, using incantations to aid him. Ironically, he would begrudgingly team up with Louie for glory in the Rebellion.

After the Fall, Levi lost his legs and his lower toso corrupted into a serpentine tail.

As one of the Devil's closest allies, he was in charge of Hell's library and archives. There, he would ensure that souls receive their proper torment, ferret out any rebels, and teach Hell's history to new recruits; or at least any he trusts enough. With what he's read, he knows each Circle of Hell like the back of his hand.

Levi is also Hell's gatekeeper responsible for hunting down souls escaping the Underworld.

Levi has power over the seas and can create massive tidal waves or cyclones to do proper damage where it's needed.

Can control sea animals with his incantations.

His tail allows him to slither and sneak up on his victims with precise speed, making him a deadly foe to seagoers.

One of the first demons that Chalice encounters in her Calix Animi days.

Due to his development issue back in Heaven, Levi is super jaded about being second best (second worst?) to the Devil. So, Abaddon trusts him with some of his more dirtier works that not even the other Princes knew about; because Levi will do anything to prove he's more than just the aloof nerd.

Belphegor🦥☁️:

A fallen Angel that studied under the Principalities, Angels associated with guiding mortal nations and churches to righteousness. But, Sleepy would much rather settle down and create odd contraptions.

Sleepy didn't fight with or against the Rebellion, not wanting to get mixed up with the wrong crowd. This act of idleness got her banished from Heaven. During her fall, some pieces of stardust clung to her body and granted her a nightly, slightly soothing aura.

Takes the form of a sloth to lull her victims into a sense of safety, and because she finds it cute & clever.

As the demon of Sloth, Sleepy is the least bearing on her subjects and even lets them have breaks in her lavender garden. This made her one of the more popular rulers of Hell.

Has a habit of chewing lavender because she finds it soothing, and it grants her breath that can put her victims into a deep sleep.

Enjoys herbal teas and meditating.

Sleepy would use her mind powers to influence mortals into creating money-making inventions (ex. The toilet) and lead them into greed and laziness.

Sends her bat-like imps to carry out her plans. They often use mortal disguises or spread Sleepy's hypnotic perfumes.

One of her favorite means of soul-collecting is to manipulate mortals' dreams into their deepest desires. Those dreams would soon dissolve into life-threatening nightmares, allowing Sleepy to fetch their soul in the dream AND in real life.

Helped Mammon design Pandemonium's luxuries (baths or furniture) and gardens.

Befriended Oz in Principality training. She deeply mourned them for their (temporary) death during the War.

Mephistopheles/Phisto🔥🃏:

A sacrificial lamb enchanted by Fallen Angel magic, Phisto had been reborn as the fires he was meant to burn in.

Phisto relishes the idea of turning the mortals that dare torment him into his personal toys.

Used to act as the Devil's messenger, often striking deals in his name. Devs had to let the little guy go since he was a little too... enthusiastic.

Doesn't exactly have a true form, being made of fire and all. Phisto can take on the appearance of a young lad, a snarky jester (his fave), a suave heartthrob, and a sagely old man.

Like small children, Phisto tends to let his imagination run wild. How wild? Enough to manifest into crazy, bloodthirsty beasts that frighten even the most determined Angelic soldiers.

An even bigger manchild than the Devil is. Gets his kicks from driving mortals crazy with his conjurings. He ended up starting a witch hunt once because he was bored.

Uses smoke and shadows to communicate with the surface (a few tricks the Devil taught him) and to conjure up visions of the past and future.

*Note: got the inspiration for Beelzebub's stomach mouth from the version by @retroferno and based Asmodeus' origin from @brightgoat .

Thanks❤️

EDIT/UPDATE:

Just so you know, the story and characters are kinda a work in progress....

21 notes · View notes

the-void-writes · 2 years

Note

hugging from behind

@bloodlessheirbyjacques 👀🔥

@bloodlessheirbyjacques 😁😁😁 Thank you buddy! I hope you enjoy this one because I got the idea for a new WIP and I want to see how it works so far.

TW for suggestive language

Hugging from behind

Val found themself attracted to one lone corner of the manor, an alcove by a large window overlooking the garden. The halls in that particular wing were completely empty, perfect for research or script rewrites. When they pressed their cheek against the glass, they could feel the crisp, winter mountain air. It was grand, historical, beautiful, everything Val adored. Lord Cyrus was very gracious indeed for allowing the team to stay in Lockhart Manor.

And speak of the devil, as Val stared out at the world, Cyrus’ reflection appeared behind them.

“Good evening,” he said in a soft accent that still mystified Val.

“Lord Cyrus—” They stood, but Cyrus waved them off with a warm smile, despite his pale face.

“Please, just Cyrus.”

He glanced out the window as though he had never seen his own backyard before. The gray light of the sky made his skin seem pure white, not helped by the crimson-brown hair that perfectly framed his face. Val wondered how he would fair if he ever visited them in their sun-soaked home…

Val bit their cheek. What a foolish thought, a lord abandoning their land for a historian. And yet, when the light danced in his emerald eyes…

“Are you enjoying yourself?” Cyrus asked.

“Yes, sir, very much.” Val held up their notes. “I’m trying to translate the journals you had in your office.”

Cyrus smirked in amusement. “Ah, I wish you luck. That language is almost as old as—” He cleared his throat. “As your chauffeur.”

Val giggled. “Sometimes, I wonder if you’re just putting on the vampire act to annoy Angelo.”

They didn’t mean to make Cyrus flinch so harshly. Out of pity, Val took his ice-cold hand. Cyrus didn’t hesitate to hold their hand in return.

“Did he say something to you?” Val asked.

“He’s just so… self-absorbed. I beg him not to risk his health, and he does it anyway, just to get off. It’s as though my words mean nothing to him.”

Val shook their head. “I can pay you for our stay here, if it helps. Just so you aren’t stuck with him every night.”

Cyrus almost snorted. “I see what that man pays you. It wouldn’t even pay for dinner.”

“Right.” Val laughed sheepishly.

“But I appreciate the sentiment. Your kindness and passion have restored this poor lord’s heart.”

“Oh, thank you, sir. It’s just an honor getting to see your world.”

To their bewilderment, Cyrus seemed to slide behind them, hugging them close to his chest. His chin rested perfectly on Val’s head, pale hands against dark skin, brushing a lock of brown hair from their cheek.

“Dearest Val—” He looked down. “Forgive me, is Val okay today? Would you prefer Valerie or Valentino?”

Val smiled. “Val is fine, sir. Thank you for remembering.”

“Of course.” Cyrus brushed their hair again. “As I was saying, the honor is mine. Your interest in my family’s history means a lot to me. I only wish you could be funded for it outside of Angelo’s tacky show.”

Perhaps it was just his accent, but he said Angelo’s name with such disdain. Val hated the part of their mind that was satisfied to hear that, the part that wanted Cyrus to themself so desperately.

“I’ll make sure he tells your story,” Val said. “The real one, not this celebrity garbage.”

A sad smile flickered across Cyrus’ face. “I fear that either story you publish will not contain the whole truth.”

Val looked up at him. “That’s good, too. You can keep your secrets.”

Their heart fluttered as Cyrus chuckled and kissed the top of their head. “But I’d hate to keep secrets from such a passionate historian. Perhaps at dinner, we can sneak away to the greenhouse, and I’ll tell you everything.”

“Cyrus, are you sure?”

“My dear, you are the only one who deserves to know the full story. I only hope that it won’t scare you away.”

“You won’t scare me, sir. Nothing could be worse than the magazines Angelo packed in their suitcase.”

Cyrus laughed heartily, a bit of color rising in his cheeks. “Oh, how I wish you could stay here. You bring this manor so much light.”

Val felt their face heat up. Perhaps their desires weren’t so impractical, after all.

#writeblr #writing community #writing prompts #ask games

5 notes · View notes