#I was possessed by the painting devil for a second there | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ozzgin · 8 days

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I just watched The First Omen at the cinema and you may go ahead and cuff me for blasphemy, but…

Yandere! Devil x Reader

You have been chosen by the Cult as the one to carry their ungodly plan after many failed attempts. This time it was a success, yet not for the reasons they might expect. The Devil has his eyes on you.

Content: female reader, mentions of pregnancy, religious themes, blasphemy, violence, horror, a non-consent scene!, based on The First Omen (2024); image from the promotional poster

Why you, of all people? You're not particularly devoted to religion, nor do you stand out in terms of virtuousness. Or lack of, for that matter. Alas, their reasons remain unknown.

What's certain is that you woke up one day and found yourself strapped to a foreign bed, staring into a ceiling you didn't recognize. You weren't alone. Around your helpless form stood men and women, dressed in black and wearing a solemn smile. Your forehead received a gentle, encouraging stroke from the hand of the priest. The scent of chrism invaded your nostrils.

You begged them to release you. The older man spoke softly in your ear. "You are serving a greater purpose. It is all in the name of God." God? Purpose? You rolled your eyes back and gazed upon the large painting hanging behind you. Virgin Mary and her blissful smile and stretched out hands felt like a mockery.

The holy image vanished as a black cloth was nonchalantly draped over your face. You felt the rope tighten around your neck and begun gasping for the scarce air barely making it through the thick canvas. A crescendo of muffled chants, and the room went abruptly quiet. Had everyone left?

Then you heard it. That profane growl, causing the entirety of your body to shiver in repugnance and terror. You trashed, and pulled, and screamed, to no avail. A clawed hand rested on your bare stomach, then a second one traced the rest of your body. You laid limp, vision blurred as the room swayed in tandem with the sacrilegious act.

You'd been defiled by a Beast. The next time you opened your eyes, you were back in your bed. Your hopes of it being a mere nightmare were shattered the moment you lifted your gown and noticed the deep scratches, the monstrous prints left on your skin, and the hollow sensation in the pit of your stomach. Your body had been tampered with, and something was growing out of your misfortune. A vile blight, throbbing with life within the comfort of your flesh.

You spent the months haunted by voices and visions. The grotesque, horned Creature would frequently reappear in your mind, exhausting all other thoughts. Such a heavy, imposing presence. It wouldn't let you forget, not even for a second: you belonged to Him, and He would soon return to retrieve you. The mother of His child, the object of His adoration. Was such a thing even conceivable?

You prayed to be left alone, yet the Cult naturally longed for its promised gift, bound to come back eventually. And so, once more, you were facing the people who caused your despair. "We've come for the child", the priest explained, glancing at your obvious, bulging belly. The clawed hand framing it was still a fresh wound that never healed, almost as an ominous warning: this body was owned by a jealous God.

Your trembling hands revealed a pocketknife. This time, you were prepared. The group took a moment to observe your daring gesture, then proceeded to approach you with calculated steps, with newfound resolve. Would you be able to keep them away? Their intentions were clear: you were in possession of the Antichrist, and they needed to secure this immense power.

The ground shook, and everyone froze. You glanced at the altar painting, the same one that witnessed your corruption. Virgin Mary remained with an unfaltering smile. From behind the ornate frame, large, horrid hands creeped out. A travesty of everything Holy. The priest gasped and quickly threw his hands in prayer. This was not part of the plan. This was not meant to happen.

"Pater noster, qui es in caelis-" he began, but his voice was cut short. His face turned pale, and he clutched his chest with a terrible grimace. The nun next to him let out a scream before she was pushed away by an invisible force. Her body hit the wall with a loud, wet sound of bones breaking and flesh tearing. You stared at the massacre unfolding before you, devoid of any fear. Somehow, in the depths of your soul, you knew you'd be safe.

An enormous shadow emerged from behind the painting, twisting, bending, stalking towards you. Your nose scrunched at the stench of blood. You were the last one standing among corpses. To your surprise, you exhaled deeply, shoulders drooping in comfort. A silent voice murmured in your ear, telling you not to fear. That Father was finally home for you.

Foolish, ridiculous humans. He'd been willing to entertain their petty plans of grandeur, until he met you: your tender, frail body, your innocent soul. How exalting it was to have his way with you. You were meant to be the one. To carry His offspring into the damned world. But not for some trifling reason of a Cult desperate to crawl their way back into control. Their greatest mistake - which led to their demise - was to assume the Devil himself can be controlled, ordered around. He has allowed you the greatest honor of joining him, out of your free will, to sow the seeds of chaos as his beloved mortal.

Thus, he couldn't have possibly allowed anyone to interfere. What you saw that day, in that old, musty underground cavern, was an omen: a bloodbath awaits the one who dares to approach his human.

You look up into the demonic orbs: trenches of madness, obsession, vulgarity, burning holes into you, slurping your very existence with hunger and lust. You are his.

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dilftaroooo · 4 months

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Not sure if your requests are closes right now sorry if they are-

But you should do Yuji fucking fem!reader or eating her out and Sukuna switching with him in the middle of it 😊

nonnie im so happy to breath the same air as u

★tags: aged up characters + afab reader + she/her pronouns + spanking + oral (f. receiving) + fingering + implied piv sex (very brief tho) + praising + sukuna bashing yuji smdh.

Your beloved boyfriend always manages to find himself emerging in the sloppy heat that rests between your thighs. Salmon fields adorned with restless digits splay across the top of his head as he licks and laps at you desperately. It's good pussy for the soul and he would hate if he would've missed this opportunity to have you sing out his name while you involuntarily send pressure to the sides of his head with your rigid thighs.

Your chest heaves and ho's at the heavy mass of passion with each inconsistent breath you take--jagged whenever Yuji coos at your hard clit, telling her how he's obsessed with her and her owner before giving her a light peck.

"I want you to fuck me already, Yu." You croak impatiently, wiggling your hips to emphasize your desires but Yuji gives you a quick slap to the side of your ass and squeezes it right after.

"Not now, baby. Let me enjoy what's in front of me first. Can I get that?" He watches you under the rise of your pelvis. His words are soft and whispered in a tone he always uses with you whenever he wants to feel you clench. Honey-glazed globes look at the feast upon him amorously. Your previously shaven hairs start to grow into stubble as it retrieves itself back to its original state; wet and coated with your juices. He buries his nose further.

A moan was a good enough answer for your boyfriend and he keeps doing what he was born to do. You continue to plead for him as he eats you out. "I'm right here, lovely. Not going anywhere." He'd respond with each fervid call.

His sucks at your cunt arouses you tenfold once you feel yourself coming to that edge at the tippy top of a mountain as gusty winds roughly kiss at the apples of your cheeks and the lids of your closed eyes. It's easy to tell you're close as Yuji hums into wet folds causing you to rattle.

"Oh fuck, Yuji. Keep going, sweet boy. 'M gonna come soon..."

Your nails cautiously dig into his scalp, not enough to hurt him severely, and your legs wrap around bulging muscle for support of your incoming orgasm. His body glistens under the light of the living room and blesses you with each defined section of muscle to pop under dark shadows.

But the devil is a conniving bastard for your reach to climax was interrupted when you flinch at the harsh bite gnaw at your clit, sending you to scurry backward away from the abrupt pain but strong arms keep your legs in place to force you into more torture. Looking down, you noticed Yuji's canines were sharper than usual. His skin was tainted in elongated markings, ones Yuji had never worn. His nails were painted in a deep violet and you think to yourself, 'Yuji couldn't have possibly put that on so fast,'.

"That sappy shit was starting to churn my stomach. How about you do that whenever I'm not possessing you? I already get nauseous knowing I'm living inside a fucking idiot." His voice was deeper too.

"Y-You're Sukuna, right? Yuji told me about you." You've never seen eyes glaringly red like his--four of them. They all watch you with a look of interest paired with a cunning smirk.

"That's right, dollface. Very good. Glad you know of me already, so we can skip the greetings." He resumes his host's previous ministrations but turns it up a notch by adding a finger or two to your drooling pussy. He teases a glossy, purple tip along the quivering hole before pushing in deep. As soon as he learns you can perfectly take one, he puts the second one in. A grin remains still on his face when hearing your moans crescendo.

"My, my. You're already soaking my fingers, dove. Guess that brat is doing something properly for once. Slobbering all over the couch, fuck, can't remember the last time I've seen pussy like this." His index and middle fingers dance across the gushy ridges in you, he moves them in ways Yuji knows you love and that feature shocks you.

He gorges on your clit and eats your pussy out like it's his last meal on earth before being sentenced to death. Saliva runs down the length of your labia, bubbles forming along the way by his boisterous lapping. Your hips can't resist gyrating against his face, ruby red remains settled on your helpless figure as you revisit that same high as before. You bathe his fingers with cum til they prune and you're too overstimulated to feel sorry.

The couch dips and you're instantly turned around on your stomach, facing the decorative pillow you believed matched the aesthetic of your living room.

"Hey, what're you-"

"You said you wanted to get fucked remember? Your cunt is still drooling cus she's hungry. Didn't give her enough." The smacks he gave your ass were harder than Yuji's and that just goes to show how rough this curse really is but you writhed nonetheless.

He was gonna fuck you good. You already figured much as hands grip around the fat at your hips and his cock carefully grinds into you.

#itadori x reader #itadori smut #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #nonnies!

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alearicci · 9 months

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“what the hell, ricciardo?!” – DR3

pairings: daniel ricciardo x fem!norris!girlfriend; daniel ricciardo x girlfriend!reader; daniel ricciardo x y/n

summary: You are the older sister of Lando Norris who is secretly dating his former teammate, Daniel Ricciardo. What will the secrets lead to?

warnings: my grammar 🫣, a little bit dirty talk, secret relationship

note: ask me anything <3

reblogs and comments pls ♡

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ♡ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

You stood in front of a large mirror in your and Daniel's house and looked at yourself with interest. Your reflection looked at you expectantly, a mixture of nervousness and confidence flickered in your brown eyes. You spent hours carefully preparing for this event, making sure that every detail of your appearance radiated elegance and sophistication. Your long brown curls fell to your shoulders in loose waves, framing your delicate facial features, and light makeup accentuated your natural beauty.

Your outfit was nothing but luxury. You were wearing a stunning floor-length dress made of the finest silk, its deep royal blue shade complemented your porcelain complexion. The dress hugged your curves in all the right places, emphasizing your slender figure, and a daring thigh-high slit added seductiveness. The bodice was decorated with intricate beads that sparkled under the soft light of the chandelier, as if reflecting the stars in the night sky.

Elegant stiletto shoes decorated with delicate crystals that shimmered with each graceful step completed your look. On your wrist you wore a minimalistic diamond bracelet, the shimmer of which matched the brilliance of your eyes. You have spared no expense in creating an image that would charm and make an indelible impression on anyone who gets in your way.

Today there was a party on the occasion of the recent Grand Prix victory and the last birthday of your boyfriend, the man of your whole life - Daniel Ricciardo. You knew how much he craved it, how he devoted himself to training and came home so tired that he could hardly walk to the shower. Your heart has always ached because of how much he has to go through to achieve heights. Constant discussions, angry comments under posts, wishes about failures at races - does he really deserve this? Your smiling boy, your happiness, your very true love.

Shaking your head, chasing away the unpleasant thoughts that appeared, you smiled tightly and looked in the mirror again. The outfit turned out to be quite good, you really look great. Numerous hours spent in shops and beauty salons have done you good.

Suddenly, out of the blue, there was a knock on the door. You flinched a little, because it was too loud and unexpected.

"Babe?" On the other side of the door, the sonorous voice of your beloved rang out. "The guests will be here soon, are you ready?"

"Oh. Yeah. I'm on my way."

"Can I come in?"

"Yes, you can."

Ricciardo didn't keep himself waiting, and a second later the door opened and you turned to him, smiling to the tips of your ears.

"Ooooh shiiiit. It looks like I'll have to postpone the party until tomorrow, and spend time with my beautiful girl today." He said grinning and walked up to you.

Standing in front of you, he first just stood in front of you and looked into your eyes for about a minute.

Devils were clearly visible in his eyes. Devils that simultaneously showed his love for you and desire to possess you.

Dan grinned, oh my God, just from that grin, you feel like your knees are about to give way, then, smoothly lowered his hands to your waist and slowly pulled you closer to him, as if stretching this moment.

He bent down to kiss you, but you gently stopped him by putting your finger to his lips.

"Hey, hey, hey, take your time, baby. I've already painted my lips with my favorite lipstick, so no kissing!" You explained and witnessed how Dan's playfulness quickly evaporated, replaced by a slight bewilderment. He snorted in displeasure and slid down, squeezing his hands tighter on your hips.

"I hate it when you use this terrible invention of mankind. I love the taste of your lips so much, and you paint them with this tasteless lipstick."

"And this was said by my daniel, who ate my raspberry-scented lipstick the other day."

"Hahaha yeah. But at least it was delicious. And in general, I didn't eat, but used it for its intended purpose."

You laughed and grabbed the strong shoulders of your Aussie. He bent down to your neck and ran his nose over it. His hot breath burned your skin and made your whole body goosebumps. Daniel gently bites the tender skin of the neck, and then runs his tongue over the wound and kisses, as if apologizing without words.

You had very fair skin and it was very difficult to hide such manifestations of love. This could be understood by how carefully you covered up the hickeys left by him last night with foundation and how they still remained visible. Daniel himself knew perfectly well that today you would need to attend his party in the status of a family friend, not his girlfriend, but knowing this did not stop him.

Yes. You've been hiding your relationship. You were the older sister of his former teammate, Lando Norris. As Ric himself likes to say and repeat, he fell in love with you from the very first meeting, but did not dare to admit this to Lando, and to you, of course. Maybe the reason was that Lando took great care of you as his own sister and often jokingly threatened his friends that if they became victims of her love torments, his revenge would be cruel. Or maybe he just couldn't figure out for a long time what he really feels for you.

But at the moment, you've been secretly dating for almost a year. It's amazing how it happened that neither the media, nor the family, nor Lando himself have yet realized that you are together. For them, you continued to be good friends. It was in your favor, because another reason for a secret relationship was just the same media. They are often the cause of the breakup of many couples and it happens that they watch couples too closely. So you continue to work, pretend and live in your secluded house when Daniel is free from racing and training and when you are not busy with your work.

"Oh my God, Daniel!" Finally, you shout jokingly. "Stop biting me, soon there won't be a place on me where there won't be traces of your bites, Ricciardo!"

"Honey, you mean you don't like it? In that case, you need to learn how to lie. You're doing pretty badly right now."

"You're insufferable, Dan."

"I know. And you love me."

"Yes. I love you."

"I know, my beautiful. Well. I will say that you helped me with the selection of the costume, if anyone has questions about how you ended up here among the first." He finished, but continued to hold you in his hands.

"Again, again a lie."

"I know, honey. I hate lying. And, wait a minute, it's practically not a lie, you really helped me pick up this suit."

You smiled warmly and rested your head on his shoulder.

"I'm waiting for the moment when I can officially call you my girl in front of everyone." he said in a hoarse whisper and kissed the top of your head.

"But then my beloved brother will look askance at us."

"Oh my God, I've already endured these looks when we were on the same team, because I often overtook him."

"Hey, he's good too!" you pretended to be indignant and lightly hit him on the leg with your knee.

"But no better than me."

"No one can compare with you, but Lanny is very good both on and off the track."

"Will anyone meet us in this house at all?" A voice was heard from below and you instinctively recoiled from your lover. The grievances belonged to Dan's good friend and his current partner, Max Verstappen. You immediately thought that he probably didn't come alone, but with his girlfriend Kelly.

"Oh, Maxie. Let's go meet."

"Danny. Are you sure? Maybe I'll come out later?"

"He knows that you and I are good friends, there will be no problems. Let's say you're very punctual."

♡♡♡

Time passed, more and more guests came. You and Daniel kept an appropriate distance, no hands on the waist, kisses and other things that could reveal your secret. It was hard, even if it has already become a habit for you. You really wanted to touch him, feel the warmth of his hands, hear the scent of his expensive cologne. You really wanted you to be an ordinary couple.

You've already gone down too and managed to say hello to many who came. First of all, you approached Daniel's parents, who came to celebrate their son's triumph. You were in a very close and trusting relationship with Mr. and Mrs. Ricciardo, they treated you as a close family friend. But they didn't even know that their son was head over heels in love with you.

Grace, Daniel's mom, recently, "in secret", said that Daniel likes you. At that time, you had already met, so you couldn't help but smile shyly and thanked the kind woman for this secret. Now I have to hide a secret from her.

Now you were chatting with her on the sidelines from everyone and she was telling you a funny story from Dan's childhood.

"Can you imagine? Then he firmly decided that he would become a racer. I'm afraid my heart just won't stand it soon, he's working so hard in training and taking risks on the track that I'm not moving away from sedatives."

"Ooooh.. Mrs. Ricciardo, as I understand you. Sometimes you want to hit him on the head with a pillow and..." for a moment you were silent.

... hug him and say that you are very worried.

... kiss him and tell him that you will always be there.

"I... Tell him to stop making his beloved mom nervous!" You finally finished the sentence and laughed along with Grace.

"Oh, you're right, my dear."

"Oh, Mrs. Ricciardo, I have to leave you for a while, I need to powder my nose." You really urgently needed to go to the bathroom to fix your makeup.

"Of course, no problem, sweetheart. I'll go find something delicious for now."

Daniel, who was standing nearby and talking enthusiastically with George Russell, who was also invited to the party, heard that you said you would go to the bathroom.

He realized that this was his chance to be with you for a few minutes.

When you excused yourself to go to the toilet, the urge became too strong to resist. Daniel carefully followed you, his heart pounding wildly. When he saw you disappear into the lavish lavatory, Ricciardo carefully followed you, making sure that no one noticed his departure. He found you standing at the sink, looking at yourself in the mirror.

Unable to contain his longing any longer, he cautiously approached you from behind, hugging you around the waist. You flinched slightly, surprised by his presence.

"I couldn't be in the company of these celebrities anymore. I needed to feel you in my arms. Moreover, I can clearly see how my mother sees you as her future daughter-in-law."

"Danny, you can't go on like this! We have to behave ourselves tonight. Not us, but you!"

"Oh. I know, but seeing that you look so amazing here, all I want to do is hold you to me. Just for a moment."

"Okay, just for a minute. But we have to be careful.

You hugged each other tightly for a few stolen moments, cherishing the intimacy you craved madly, knowing that you would soon have to part again.

Ricciardo tightened his embrace, feeling the warmth of your body on his. You stood there for a few blissful seconds, enjoying the intimacy of the moment. Then he gently kissed you on the forehead, and then went down to your cheeks and lips. But none of you guessed what would happen next.

Meanwhile, Lando also decided to go to the bathroom to fix his tie. Disappointed with the way it sat on his collar, he yanked it, muttered a few playful curses under his breath and headed to the bathroom to get a dose of confidence from the mirror.

To his surprise, he saw Daniel and you, his friend and sister, in a passionate embrace. Lando's eyes widened and a mischievous grin appeared on his face.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" he said, leaning against the bathroom door and folding his arms.

Hearing the voice of your beloved younger brother, you abruptly pulled away from Daniel's lips and felt a blush appear on your cheeks.

"Oops," Dan said jokingly. "I'll explain everything now, Lando. "Ummm... I just came to help y/n with... her dress. It had to be fixed, you know?"

You intervened with a shy smile:

"Yes, yes, the lightning got stuck, and Daniel, being a gentleman, came to the rescue!"

Lando raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced by the story, but couldn't help but make a joke.

"And the kiss became a payment for help? Come on, guys. Don't make me regret introducing you to him, Miss Norris!" Lando exclaimed, no longer holding back his laughter.

"Uh... yeah?"

"Of all the people, it had to be my former teammate and my sister? Damn God, how long have you been dating? Do not deny that you are dating, otherwise I will definitely swear."

"Almost a year," Daniel replied and smiled his trademark smile.

"Oh my God, sis, I thought we should share everything!"

"Sorryyy."

When they returned to the event, Lando couldn't help but grin mischievously, teasing Daniel: "Just remember, Ricciardo, I will always watch!"

Winking, Dan cheekily replied: "Oh, I wouldn't expect anything less, Norris!"

#f1 imagine #oneshot #f1 fandom #f1 fanfic #formula one #drabble #dr3 x reader #dr3 #daniel ricciardo supremacy #daniel ricciardo x reader #danny ric #ric3 #daniel ricciardo #formula 1 #lando norris #nor4

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proxima-writes · 1 year

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Title: me and the devil | part 2

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Pairing: Mean Smuggler!Joel Miller/Smuggler!Female Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ MDNI)

Summary: Joel doesn’t take kindly to the attention you’ve been receiving from a FEDRA agent.

Author’s Note: Quick lil addition to the dark!Joel universe. Because I can never write a one shot it seems. Reader discretion is advised.

Join the tag list | Masterlist

Content Warnings/Tags: explicit sexual content (18+), explicit language, considerable age gap (25F and 56M), mean mean mean Joel Miller, possessive Joel Miller, violence, public sex, dirty talk, degradation, begging, unprotected p in v, non con ejaculation, pet name (derogatory), dominance, rough sex, hair pulling, no aftercare, did i mention he’s MEAN like i cannot stress this enough. Let me know if anything is missing!

There’s a FEDRA agent who’s taken an interest in you.

He’s younger, probably about thirty. He’s handsome, with blonde hair and blue eyes and a cocky grin. He slips you extra ration cards when he sees you, and shows you a kindness that you’re unaccustomed to.

He lets you slip past the gate for smuggling runs, wishing you luck with a hand against your lower back as his eyes scan the perimeter.

One night, when you’ve returned from a run, he’s there to greet you. Joel stomps past him without a second thought and Tess nods at him before going her own separate way. But the agent pulls you aside, down an alley, and kisses you breathless.

You both miss the movement in the shadows.

________

Joel sees red anytime that little FEDRA fucker puts his hands on you. He doesn’t have any right to feel this way. In fact, he should be thrilled that your attention has shifted, that he no longer has to feel the burn of your gaze on his back.

But that’s not the case. He feels the loss of it like a shot to the heart.

So when he sees you in the alley with his hands on your body and his lips on yours, he doesn’t think. He just acts.

Joel storms toward the two of you, ripping the man from your body, throwing him to the ground. He gets a brief glimpse of your shocked face before he’s slamming the agent’s head against the concrete. The younger man fights back, bucking against Joel’s hold. But while the agent might be younger, maybe even stronger, Joel fights dirtier.

He’s got the man pinned with an arm against his throat as he stares down into his pretty face.

“Don’t you fuckin’ touch her again, you hear me?” He spits. He waits until the man stops struggling, going limp from lack of oxygen before releasing his grip.

You’re standing against the wall, the shock still painted across your features as you stare at Joel. Then you’re launching at him, eyes flashing with rage.

“You asshole!” You shout, fists beating against his chest. He yanks your hair, tugging your head back and looking down into your vicious expression.

“Call me that one more time, sweetheart, and see what fuckin’ happens.”

Your jaw clenches. “Ass. Hole,” you spit.

________

Joel spins you so that your face is pressed into the brick of the building, scratching at your cheek painfully. This position feels familiar, the memory of this same hold on your in his apartment making you clench in anticipation.

It’s deplorable that his treatment of you makes you so goddamn wet. You try not to think too hard about what it says about you as he presses his body against yours, the hard length of him grinding against your ass and making you bite back a moan.

“I warned you,” Joel growls in your ear. One hand remains clamped around the back of your neck to hold you in place while the other slides down the front of your body, tearing at the fly of your jeans and shoving the material roughly over your hips. “But you wanted to be a goddamn brat.”

You whimper as he slides his fingers through your wetness, cheeks heating as he laughs. “And you’re already wet? Tell me, baby, that from some little boy kissin’ you or from me beating the hell out of him for it?”

“Oh god,” you cry as he roughly circles your clit. “Joel!”

“Shut up,” he snaps. You hear the clink of his belt being opened, the zip of his fly being pulled down.

You remain frozen, plastered to the wall with your pants around your thighs. The heat of his body returns and you jolt when you feel the blunt head of his hard cock press to your entrance. You squirm against his hold.

“Stop moving,” he commands. You go still, like prey accepting its fate. “Good job, baby, I knew you could listen if you just use your little brain.”

A moan breaks free as he slides inside of you, hips slamming against your ass with his rough thrust. The sudden stretch of him makes you see stars as he sets a punishing pace.

“Your little cunt is so tight for me, baby, suckin’ me in every time I try to leave. Desperate for my cock,” he growls against your ear. Teeth scrape against your neck. “Should I let you cum? I don’t think stupid little girls who try to share what’s mine deserve to.”

“Please, Joel,” you whisper .

“I can’t hear you.”

“Please, please, please! Make me cum, Joel, make me cum all over you,” you beg, voice as loud as you dare to make it. You can feel him smile against your shoulder, a hateful spread of his lips.

“You’re lucky I’m so fuckin’ nice,” he spits, bringing his fingers to your clit and sliding them over the sensitive nub with quick, rough strokes. You can’t help the laugh that bubbles up, the thought of Joel calling himself nice is so absurd to you that you can’t reign it in. He smacks your ass in retaliation and you try to escape the sting of it by rising to your tiptoes.

He yanks you back roughly, wrapping your hair around his fist to tug your head back. His eyes are so dark, so callous, that you have to swallow your fear to keep it hidden. He must still see it in your eyes, because that sharp smile is back.

“Since you didn’t want to fuckin’ stay still, you can cum on my cock alone or you don’t cum at all, understand?” Your lower lip trembles and he tightens his grip in your hair, making you gasp. “Answer me.”

“Yes, sir,” you murmur. He groans at the title, his cock pulsing in its appreciation inside of you.

His speed picks up, his thrusts punishing as he chases after his own release. You can feel your muscles tightening in anticipation of your own, your harsh breaths stuttering as you toe the edge of ecstasy. You bite back a scream as a particularly rough thrust hits you in just the right spot, making you shatter around him, your pussy clamping tightly to his arousal.

He’s not far behind you, his pace losing finesse as he chases his release, groaning into your ear as he cums inside of you in thick, hot splashes. Your eyes go wide at the sensation. You had expected him to pull out, as he had before.

You hear Joel pull his jeans up, followed by his rough hands slipping your own back over your hips. He turns you to face him, his face etched in that same permanent scowl. He smooths a thumb over the scrapes from the brick that have marred your cheek before he tugs your lips to his with a firm grip on your jaw.

“You let that FEDRA piece of shit touch you again, just know that its my cum he’ll be fuckin’ deeper into your cunt,” he says.

Joel doesn’t wait for a response. His eyes search yours for one brief moment before he turns on his heel and stalks out of the alley.

Your eyes flick to the agent still crumpled on the ground and you take a deep breath before following after the devil himself.

Joel Miller tag list: @huffle-punk @johnwatsn @hopelessromantic727 @whereasport @pedr0swh0r3 @yellingloudly @dragon-of-winterfell @thedeadsingwithdirtintheirmouths @mydailyhyperfixations @liati2000 @ghostofjoharvelle @cutesyscreenname @morgaussy @letsgroovetonighttt @endlessthxxghts

#joel miller x female reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #dark joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel tlou #no use of y/n #tlou x reader #tlou fanfiction #me and the devil

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remapped-soul · 4 months

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once again with an italian song, this time for charlos

"occhi diversi tutte le sere ma sempre il solito vecchio sorriso" >>> different eyes every single night but always the same old smile

i'm imagining something romantic and cheesy and charles' eyes changing with the light :)

once again, im so sorry how late this is. i had an idea for this ever since you sent me the ask but only now found the energy to write. i hope you like it <3 I tried making it cheesy and romantic. what's for sure, charles' eyes are definitely changing hehe. your prompts have been amazing and I had so much fun writing them

this is a companion piece to my charlos demon au. read it here

tw: mention of the lv incident, and charles is angry about it, but nothing too graphic.

This year was supposed to be different. This year was supposed to be their year. Prayers on his lips, the devil by his side, Carlos was supposed to win this year. Instead, he's barely scrapping in the top 5 as it is. To say he is frustrated is an understatement.

"I thought a deal with the devil meant glory," Carlos says the night after the race in Melbourne. "I thought the car would be strong. I thought--" the voice catches in his throat "--I thought I'd be strong."

Charles is motionless next to him, eyes a blue so dark and deep, no shadow disturbs them. Carlos is a little afraid to look at him.

"It will come." Charles presses his mouth against Carlos' shoulder, heat sipping through the shirt. He inhales, long and deep. He's just like a dog sometimes, Carlos thinks, a little amused, a little fond. Protective and possessive.

"Easy for you to talk." Carlos shakes Charles off. The artificial light of the hotel room slants in his eyes, and for a second, Charles' irises are not deep blue, but milky white. Carlos' heart seizes in his chest. He blinks. Charles' eyes are back to normal. "You were Senna in the past life."

Charles rolls his eyes. "I made a deal with you, not with Ferrari. I can't help them if they're not ready to pay the price."

"And I am? Paying the price?"

Charles smiles, crooked, lopsided, dimples popping, and kisses him into quietness.

It gets better until it doesn't and Carlos has to retire his car in Spa halfway in. It's Charles' turn to be on the podium, and Carlos is so angry he can barely stand to look at him.

"It's just a third place, Carlos. Nothing to stress over."

They go back to the hotel right after Charles finished his media duties, and Carlos wants nothing more than to be alone. He thinks slamming the door would have gotten the message across, but when he turns around, Charles is already there, by the bed, waiting, hands in his pockets, eyes a dull grey.

"A third place and three championships," Carlos sneers now, looking over Charles' shoulder. He can't stand the look in his eyes. "Nothing to stress over."

Charles sighs, exasperated. "I existed before you, Carlos. I will exist after you. My life now is nothing but a moment, painted in a different color. I don't choose my lives, the same way you didn't choose to be bound to me. If I could, I'd always be a king, a winner, but my life is defined by the contracts I make the same way yours is defined by things outside of your control." Charles stops, an angry breath hissing through his clenched teeth. He doesn't talk about his life, his existence as a being outside of the human realm, if he can help it. "You know what you got to do if you wish to never see me again."

Carlos finally looks at Charles. His eyes shine like marble in sunlight. Outside is dark, a starless night.

"And if I do? Will the old Charles be back?" Carlos still remembers the days before he made his pact. The sweet Charles, the shy Charles. The one that blushed around Sebastian Vettel.

"You drivers always think you're so different from one another, but you're all the same." The Charles in front of him gives him a sad smile. "There is no old Charles. It's always been me."

Carlos suddenly feels nauseous. He stares at Charles, at his eyes, at the grey melting into blue. "I think…I think I need to be alone." A pause. "Please."

Charles tilts his head to the side, watching Carlos. Carlos blinks. Charles is gone.

Later, they will be fine, as fine as a demon and human can be. They will fall into bed again, and Charles will let Carlos touch him, slide into him raw, make love to him. Charles will let Carlos wrap his hands around his throat, kiss him breathless, mark him. Charles will let Carlos believe he has power, and Carlos will let it happen, accept it. He will accept anything, everything as long as he gets to enjoy this for a little while longer.

The win in Singapore comes with a bang, and Carlos doesn't have time to think if Charles gave him this only to appease him. He is yelling over the coms, yelling as he gets out of the car, as he embraces the team. He sings every word of Fratelli d’Italia up on the podium. Fred pours champagne over his head, down his overalls. Carlos accepts everything with the biggest smile on his face. He won. He won for Ferrari. With Ferrari.

A tiny voice in his head tells him, you won before Charles this year, before Il Predestinato. It's delightfully mean. Carlos shoves it back where it came from.

He doesn't spot Charles anywhere until after his press conference, when Carlos is pulled into a desolate room, a hand on his mouth to silence him and a cheeky smile greeting him in the dark.

"Hi, champion."

Carlos grins against the fingers. "Hi back," he mumbles, pulling Charles into him by the waist.

Charles' eyes are a kaleidoscope of red-pink-purple, a sunset trapped in his irises. "My beautiful champion," he says and then he kisses Carlos hard on the mouth. Carlos parts his knees, Charles steps closer, pushes his hands underneath Carlos's shirt, fingers on his stomach, skin against skin. Carlos shudders.

"Bebe," Carlos mutters as Charles kisses down his neck. "Not here. Hgmm." Charles bites at a particular sensitive spot on Carlos' neck. "We don't have time."

Charles' eyes glimmer as he looks up at Carlos. "Is that a challenge?" He asks and drops to his knees before Carlos can get a word in.

Ten minutes later they're sliding into their chairs as the debrief starts, and if Carlos fixes his pants and Charles wipes the corner of his mouth, no one bats an eyelash. After all, they were only a few minutes late. No one scolds a Ferrari champion.

The manhole blows up underneath Carlos' car in Las Vegas. It brings the first practice to an end and rules him out of the second one. Because of the damage, he will most likely get a penalty on Sunday. It’s a mess. Charles is fuming.

Carlos watches as Charles paces the length of his hotel room, threat dripping from his tongue like a thunderstorm, and he speaks in French and sometimes in Spanish. Other times in languages that are not familiar at all. Carlos would laugh about it, would pull Charles into his arms, tell him not to worry, kiss the frown off his face. He’d do that and more if it weren’t for the shackles shining bloody red around Charles’ neck, around his wrists, eyes matching as they flare up with every new word.

Charles’ threats are not something to laugh at. They’re real, and if Carlos doesn’t do anything about it, Charles will level the city.

“It’s what they deserve,” Charles spits. “If there is something the humans have been constant about- it's money. It’s always about money. They’d risk everything for it. I should cut their fingers off, one by one. Make them choke on money. Teach them the consequence of greed.”

Carlos sighs. He doesn’t think too much about it and grabs Charles by the arm, pulling him into his lap.

“Cariño,” Carlos soothes, pressing a kiss underneath Charles’ right eye. He puts his fingers on Charles’ neck and doesn’t think about how it burns. “You’re older than mankind. Why are you still surprised?”

Charles growls low in his throat. “They messed with what’s mine.” Surprise and pleasure zip up Carlos’ spine. He drops his hands around Charles’ shoulders, pushes and pulls until Charles gives in and melts against his chest. “I am fine, really. I am here, aren’t I?”

Charles huffs. He grips the hem of Carlos’ shirt and presses his cold nose against Carlos’ neck.

“You could’ve lost your legs,” he mumbles.

“Not for long,” Carlos says as he draws lines on Charles’ back. Up and down, left to right, as soothing as he can make them. “I have you.”

“Yes,” Charles relents, finally, fight going out of him all at once, shackles fading until they leave only unmarred skin behind. “Yes, you do.”

He presses a kiss under Carlos’ ear. If Carlos senses a hit of teeth, too sharp to be human, he doesn’t mention it.

“Will you leave the city and its people alone?”

Charles smiles against his neck. “For now. For you. They owe you a life debt.”

“Yes, yes, my fearless demon,” Carlos says and then tightens his hold and flips them on the bed, Carlos on top, Charles splayed underneath him. For the next several hours Carlos makes sure Charles doesn’t have time to think about decimating the world. Charles lets him.

A pact with the devil is not so bad after all.

#luna.writes #charlos #charlos demon au #charles leclerc #carlos sainz #f1 rpf #f1 fanfic #my stories #part 2 is here and it's not edited and im not sure it makes sense but I had fun writing this #i hope you like

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medicon · 1 year

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Knockout x carjacker!reader who saw him at a race one time and wanted the sweet-looking car and was not prepared for the car to more or less kidnap them instead (idk I just think it'd be funny if the bots and cons met humans bc the humans tried to steal them lol)

i had so much fun writing this, ty for requesting!

turbo hell, literally. | knockout x reader.

“Come on, come on, come on…” You stole a few nervous glances behind you. This was a bad idea. A terrible idea. The most awful, atrocious, stupidest decision you’d made today. Your fingers worked feverishly, nearly shaking with adrenaline. The rush was why you were addicted to stuff like this, it was a high that you were obsessed with. And hey, if you got a sweet ride out of it, that was great too.

You’d seen this car once before, at a street race your friend dragged you to. It was a beauty. Sleek and polished red paint, gold rims, probably a hot owner. And since they illegally street raced, you could always blackmail them into not pressing charges if you were caught.

The engine roared to life. Your hotwiring was a success. You yanked on the door handle and swung it open, thankful that you picked the lock ahead of time. The cushioned seats felt comfortable, but the interior looked far different than you expected. The owner must have done some major upgrades at some point. Your hands grasped the steering wheel, mentally preparing yourself to actually steal something this big.

The car abruptly lurched forwards, nearly giving you whiplash. A familiar ‘click’ signaled the doors locking, and the seat belt you’d conveniently forgotten to put on was wrapped around you in less than a second. You cursed, more confused about what was going on than why. The car didn’t stop speeding up, even after you attempted jamming your foot down on the brakes.

You tried the door handle. Stupid move, considering it was locked, but you were becoming slightly concerned with this situation you were in. “Is this a remote controlled car!? Let me go!”

You hit the door hard as the car swerved around a turn far faster than it should have. You attempted to unbuckle yourself, but that didn’t work either. The familiar feeling of panic began to grow in your chest. What was this thing? Somehow you had found the one demon possessed car in all of Nevada.

Another turn, more accelerating. The car pulled into an empty parking lot, and began driving towards a storefront at a speed you were definitely not comfortable with. Welp, this was it. Might as well start ugly crying and speedrun writing your last will and testament. Maybe they would name a scientific discovery after you.

Your stomach churned as the automobile did a 180, and you tried your best to not lose your lunch. This car was obviously not happy with you. But what did you do to deserve this? Besides, you know, hotwiring and trying to steal it. That was practically harmless, though. Maybe the car had feelings, maybe it was some new AI program.

“Hey-” The car careened around the curb as it left the parking lot. “Hey!!”

You frantically pulled at the seat belt again, hoping it would let you out of its death grip. “I don’t know what you are, but let me go!”

It didn’t listen. Instead, it did another 180 and barreled down another street. You weren’t sure what you expected. Your metal prison seemed to be closing in on you, and you suddenly felt very claustrophobic. This would be fine, you told yourself. You’d just be stuck in literal turbo hell for the next 3 years of your life to pay for your sins. Maybe this was the devil’s sports car he used to attend meetings with all the political leaders.

“Listen! I’m sorry for trying to steal your car! Or you- I don’t know what to say right now,” The car didn’t respond. You let out a half panicked, half exasperated sigh. “Please! I won’t do it again. I just couldn’t resist a ride in such a beautiful car. I swear, it was a mistake!”

Jackpot. The car slowed down a bit, and a wave of relief passed over you. Evidently, repenting was at least a temporary solution. As the automobile pulled up to the sidewalk, the seat belt retracted. The door unlocked and swung open. Clear invitation to leave. As your shaky legs found their way to solid ground again, you realized you’d never been more eager to leave a vehicle. You resisted the urge to collapse and thank the Earth for not suddenly taking you on a death road trip.

“Hey kid,” You jerked your head back up, astonished. The car was talking. Did you accidentally do drugs?

“Uh.. yes? ... Sir?” You added the last part to be polite. If this was the devil’s sports car, maybe he’d be nice when you ended up in hell one day.

“Next time, wash your shoes off. Oh, and be glad you didn’t have any crumbs on you. Ugh, those take so long to clean out…”

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shepherd-of-the-stars · 4 months

Text

Bound

Summary:

For a creature with such tainted and cursed blood to attempt what he did, being consumed by the flames seemed the most merciful punishment. For a werewolf to summon a demon—if the Devil himself didn’t come up to spite him for such an insult, he was sure God would have. (werewolf!Alfred and demon!Ivan)

Notes:

Gift for @flying-fish-styx in @spaceracedates 's Rusame Secret Santa event Surprise!!! >:) I got you for the secret santa lol. when I tell you I STRUGGLED to pick one of your prompts, I mean it lmao. I loved them all. But I had to choose. Hope you enjoy! love you Prompts: Running away together/ Magic/ Demons/ werewolves TW: medium gore, death. Arthur stans, this one is not for you, babes ao3 link in the notes

He was… alive.

Wounded and dizzy from the blood loss, legs too weak for him to stand, but still, very much, alive.

And for the life of him, he couldn’t understand why. From the moment he slid the blade across his palm and painted the circle with his blood while reciting the ominous chant, he’d expected to burst into flames as the floor opened up and swallowed him into the deepest pits of Hell. That’s what should have happened. For a creature with such tainted and cursed blood to attempt what he did, being consumed by the flames seemed the most merciful punishment.

For a werewolf to summon a demon—if the Devil himself didn’t come up to smite him for such an insult, he was sure God would have.

Perhaps that was still a possibility for him.

As Alfred stared into the six eyes of the demon in front of him—towering over him in height, monstrous body covered in scales and black tar, claws strong enough to crush him with one swipe, and a mouth full of crooked, fanged teeth—he couldn’t help but wonder if this one had come to grant his wishes like the book said, or if it was here to tear him to pieces.

“Hello.”

Alfred couldn’t help but flinch as the sound ripped through his body. The beast’s mouth didn’t move when it spoke. Whatever voice it possessed slammed into him like a shockwave and vibrated through his soul into his brain. It was deep and pitched and ghostly all at once. Terrifying and sinister. And looking right at Alfred for an answer.

“Hi,” Alfred choked out, his voice almost swallowed by his own shaky, horrified breathing.

The demon—cocking its head to the side—seemed to recognize his fear. It should have been then that it opened its mouth and swallowed Alfred whole. But instead, it let out a single, low laugh, before rising to its hind legs and… shifting.

Scales and claws sunk into pale flesh, fangs retracted into its mouth, and bones cracked audibly as its form changed into that of a man. A perfectly normal looking man. With the horns of a bull and eyes of glowing violet. And naked from head to toe.

“I apologize.” Its—his voice came smooth like burning liquor, no longer that unworldly noise. “It’s been some time since my last summoning. I’ve forgotten that humans get a little spooked by our true forms.”

How was Alfred to respond? Even though the demon seemed human now, Alfred had already seen what it could become. In seconds, it could change back and take his head in one bite. Instead, it was apologizing. Being… polite.

“Why are you here?” Alfred recognized the voice as his own, but he didn’t remember moving his lips to speak.

The demon replied again by cocking his head to the side. He looked down at the circle under his bare feet, then over at the worn, ancient book at Alfred’s side. “ You summoned me, my dear. Have you forgotten?” Then he smiled—all teeth—and Alfred was shown that even in his human form, the demon still had the power to tear his throat out if he so wished. Behind those innocent, pink lips was a full set of fangs, and a taste for flesh.

“But—” Alfred swallowed, and the demon watched with an eerie patience as he waited for his answer. Clutching his bleeding hand to his chest and suppressing the tremor in his voice, he continued. “—I’m a werewolf. My blood is cursed! This shouldn’t have worked. How is—. I—”

“Yet you still tried.” The demon took a step closer. And closer. Until he knelt before Alfred with his hand outstretched. When Alfred didn’t move, still frozen in terror, the demon reached out to take his wounded hand into his own. “You humans will do anything when you are desperate.”

“I’m not human.” He tried desperately to tear his hand away from the beast, but he refused to let go. “Not anymore.”

“If that is one of your requests, I’m afraid I can’t help you.” The demon examined Alfred’s wounds before bringing them to his lips and running his forked tongue along the cuts. It must have had a sudden taste for blood, Alfred assumed. Until his wounds started to heal. Heal . Then the demon released Alfred’s hand and sat cross-legged on the floor. “I can make you stronger, taller, give you wings or claws, but I can’t change you back into a human.”

Alfred stared down silently at his hands. They were perfect. Restored. Like nothing had happened. But a demon still sat in front of him, waiting for his command like a dog. “You… you’re really here to help me? To do whatever I want?”

“For a price. Depending on the weight of your requests, I will take away pieces of your soul until one day, you simply drop dead.” Said like a host explaining the rules of a game. Like his life was nothing but another number on the board.

“And if I don’t make any requests?”

“Then I leave. And you go back to suffering whatever it was that pushed you to this point. Shall I?”

As he began to stand, Alfred instinctively reached out to grab him and keep him in his place. But the moment his hands came in contact with the demon’s skin, he pulled away. The demon was ice cold to the touch.

“Wait— Please. I—I have a request.”

At that, the demon smiled and returned to his spot in front of Alfred on the floor.

“Well?”

Alfred once more found himself at a loss for words. What he wanted to say screamed in his mind and begged to be heard, but his throat remained locked.

“I may live forever, but you won’t.”

The demon was mocking him.

“Come now. What was so important to you that you risked your life to summon me?”

Say it.

“Tell me, little pup.”

Alfred’s head jerked up at the nickname and somehow found the courage to give the demon a glare. “Don’t call me that.”

Unfazed, the demon smiled wider. Then said, “ Woof. ”

His breath hitched, the dam broke, and the words burst from his chest. “I want you to kill the man who turned me!” His whole body went cold as his own words escaped. Any moment now, his pack would burst through the doors of the abandoned barn and drag him back to their den to be punished. He was already dead. His fate was sealed. So he continued. “He took everything from me. I had a life! A family! And he took it all away. He kept me alive because he said I was strong. That I would be good for the pack, but I wish everyday he would have killed me too.”

His hands wouldn’t stop shaking, so he pinned them under his arms. “My only way out is to kill him. But I can’t do it. I can’t kill him. This stupid, fucking eternal pack bond keeps me from even—” His hands were in front of him now, wrapped around an invisible neck and squeezing until his nails drew crescents into his palms. Then he let out a defeated breath and let his hands fall back onto his lap. “I can’t hurt him. We’re bound by blood. I’m… I’m trapped.”

The demon let out a soft, amused hum of understanding before straightening his posture. “Humans are all the same. Violence is always their solution.” Then a pause Alfred dared not interrupt. “Alright then. Tell me, little one. Who is he, and where can I find him?”

Alfred answered slowly with hesitation in his voice.

“Arthur Kirkland. He’s at the den.”

------ (v—v) ------

When Alfred had imagined how it would be like to kidnap his pack leader, he thought it would be something out of a movie. He would walk down the hallway of their shared house, and the demon behind him would slaughter everyone who stepped foot in their path. By the end, Alfred, covered in blood, would be untouched, and Arthur would beg to be spared once he saw the lifeless bodies of his pack members.

But life wasn’t like the movies.

Once Alfred had made his request, the demon fell into the shadows—gone—and seconds later, came back with the man, holding him by the neck like he was a doll.

“This one?” He held Arthur up like a freshly caught fish as the werewolf clawed and struggled for breath. Sensing danger, Arthur began to shift. But before he could even get his claws to form, he was slammed into the floor so hard that it was a wonder how his skull didn’t crack open.

“Nice try,” the demon sang. “But try again and I will rip your head off.” Confident the wolf wouldn’t make another attempt to shift, he looked again to Alfred and repeated his question. “Is this the one you want me to kill?”

Only then did Arthur notice there was another person in the room. Alfred, the boy he had saved and raised; he thought of him as a son. Why would he do this?

“Alfred,” his voice shook, blood dripped past his lips onto the floor. ”What is this? What have I done? Say it isn’t me, boy! Tell him the truth. It isn’t me! You have to help me—”

“Yes” —a black, clawed hand clamped his creator's mouth shut—”or no? I will take silence as a ‘yes’.”

Alfred stared into Arthur’s wild, panicked eyes, unable to move. His wolf instincts screamed for him to save his pack leader, so loudly that he could barely hear the muffled pleads. It was only barely that he was able to force one, singular nod.

Then the screams began.

And the world around him fell into a dark blur.

His whole body felt numb as he stared—unseeing—at the slaughter in front of him. He witnessed every strike, every piece of flesh torn from Arthur’s body, but at the same time, saw nothing. Like everything he saw was immediately wiped from his memory the moment he saw it.

Then it was over.

He didn’t know how long it lasted, but Arthur was no longer… Arthur. He was a corpse so brutally torn apart that it no longer resembled a human. Bits and pieces scattered across the walls. Chunks of flesh stuck between the demon’s teeth as it licked its fingers clean. An echo of a voice in the back of his mind. He was gone. And Alfred was free.

He was free.

What now?

It didn’t matter.

He was free.

But nothing had changed.

He looked down at his hands, soaked in red as the pool of blood spread closer to him. It stained his clothes. Clothes that Arthur had bought him. Arthur. His leader. The man who saved him. Took care of him like a father when he was turned. Taught him everything he needed to know.

The only man left to call his family.

He had made a mistake.

“Bring him back.”

He lurched forward, scraping the blood and guts on the floor back into a heap.

“I fucked up. Bring him back!”

He didn’t know if the demon responded. All he could hear was his own frantic breathing as he gathered the pieces of Arthur into his hands and laid them in the center of the floor.

But nothing worked.

Arthur was gone.

And it was all his fault.

He felt wetness on his cheeks and reached up to wipe it away, only for the blood to mix with his tears until it was hard to tell the difference between the two.

“I fucked up,” he choked out. “This isn’t what I wanted. I take it back. Please—”

“I’m sorry, little one.” The demon squatted in front of him, flesh squelched beneath his bare feet. “I cannot take back what I’ve done.”

“But I messed up. This isn’t what I wanted—”

“It is.” The demon reached forward to steady Alfred’s hands. Those same hands, once warm, now matched the icy feel of the demon's.

Then the world around them shifted, and when Alfred looked up again, he saw the night sky and the rain falling around them. The blood on his hands washed away, and in the dark mud beneath them, it simply disappeared. He didn’t know where they were, but everything around them smelled different. New.

“This isn’t my first time taking a human’s request to kill someone in their family. There is always guilt and regret, but in time, you will move on and realize it was the right choice.”

“How long does that usually take?” His voice trembled from the adrenaline and the cold.

Without having to say a word, the demon shielded him from the rain with his wings. “Months. Sometimes years. It depends on the person.”

“Why are you being nice to me?”

“Can I not be?”

“You’re a demon.”

“And I am bound to you.”

Bound like he used to be with Arthur. Yet this felt different, somehow.

“What’s your name?”

It was a simple enough question, but it was one the demon still needed to think over. “I have no name, but my previous owner called me ‘Ivan’. I suppose you can call me that as well.”

Ivan. The name of the demon that would be with him for the rest of his life.

“Ivan,” he tried. The name sounded right. “Ivan, take me somewhere warm.”

His demon smiled, bowing his head. “As you wish.”

#rusame #rusame fanfiction #rusame secret santa #hws russia #hws america #you 🤝 me #mutual arthur hatred #its the parental trauma i suppose

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sevensided · 2 years

Text

I am strongly convinced that Will is the key to Vol. 2... and he might even be the antagonist of S5. Hear me out.

Will is the conduit between reality and the Upside Down. It is extremely significant that S04E07 so heavily featured 1983 as a place of 'beginning': not only did the story start here, but I think this is where it will end too.

S4 played continually with the idea of history and time. I posited during the hiatus that the clock motif was about a 'time's up' and I think this will resonate throughout the rest of the story. The fact that we've returned to where it all began makes me think that once Will returns to Hawkins, everything is going to accelerate.

For one, although we have El back to her full strength, Vecna is equally powerful and he's altered since she last faced off with him. The moment Will enters Hawkins he will be a target for Vecna - and I wouldn't be surprised if Will ends up becoming a vessel for the Mind Flayer once more. This was foreshadowed in an early S4 episode where Eddie was described as 'the vessel ... for the devil', which could indicate that Will - who has already been a vessel - resumes that role again for the show's climax.

As for Mike and Will, I have a few theories. The first is that Mike will have to choose between El and Will, and whoever he chooses will be the person he's loved all along. The second is that I wouldn't be surprised if Will goes missing (again!), Mike finds the painting, the penny drops, and he realises how much Will means to him. The groundwork has been laid for Mike to have an epiphany about their friendship, and I wouldn't be surprised if we get a parallel between Will's 'so stupid' photograph moment and Mike looking at the painting Will has made him. It would be a neat way to tie those stories together, particularly as you could argue that Will looking at the photograph in S3 was a trigger scene for the audience to recognise that perhaps Will had romantic feelings for Mike.

The last theory about the Upside Down/Will as a vessel/Mike and Will is that I think Mike is the only person who can bring Will 'back'. This is purely running with the idea that Will will be possessed by the Mind Flayer and will surpass Vecna in power/ferocity to become the last Big Bad/antagonist of the story. Will says as much in S4 when he reminds Mike that no one else brought him back - the Party, and specifically Mike, did.

As for the thematic continuity and symbolism of Will being the final antagonist, I believe it makes a lot of sense for the story to begin and end with him. He has been the key all along. If you wanted to really lean into the theory, you could argue that Will embodies the Chekhov's gun, because he's been sidelined for S3-4 despite being prominent in S1-2. Everyone's forgotten about him - he is consistently represented as being alone, isolated. In other words, everyone, including the audience, has forgotten how pivotal he is to the story. In S4, when Mike says that whatever happens, they need to be a team, it's a return to their bond in S1-2. It is them against the world.

#stranger things 4 #st4 theory #byler #*#meta

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jingwei · 18 days

Text

Asano Gakushu Symbolism | The Devil

Charisma is defined in the Oxford Dictionary as "a compelling attractiveness or charm that inspires devotion in others".

Gakushu was seen exercising immense charisma in nearly every chapter he appeared in, such as his opening speech, the rallying of Class A, commanding of the pole topping event, the entirety of the school festival arc, and the resolution of the second semester finals.

On a more general note, his charm offensive clearly isn't limited to Kunugigaoka alone. According to the character book, he has a vast network of friends all around the world, including space, and he's also been scouted for sports and entertainment industries.

Much like how the devil is depicted as possessing an irresistible charm capable of swaying individuals toward malevolent deeds, Gakushu's charisma exhibits a similar duality. While he wields his charm for both benevolent and nefarious purposes, it underscores the seductive power of charisma to influence others toward differing ends.

I took a closer look and identified the figure the anime used to illustrate this idea.

Since 1856, the name Baphomet has been associated with the "Sabbatic Goat" image (on the right) drawn by Éliphas Lévi, composed of binary elements representing the "symbolization of the equilibrium of opposites": half-human and half-animal, male and female, and good and evil. Lévi's intention was to symbolize his concept of balance, with Baphomet representing the goal of perfect social order.

The historical associations of Baphomet with power and control primarily stem from its use in medieval and Renaissance occultism. Over time, Baphomet became associated with the occult and esoteric traditions, representing hidden knowledge, alchemy, and mysticism.

Gakushu's true goals were obscured behind his suasive campaign that bestowed Class A with a shared responsibility to secure the top spots for the exams in order to win the bet the Big Five rashly proposed to Class E. In reality, he was also taking advantage of the indefinite conditions of the bet for his own higher purposes; which was to obtain blackmail against his father.

Keep in mind that this was also one of the few instances where he refers to Gakuho as 'father', albeit said in his head.

The flame of intelligence shining between his horns is the magic light of the universal balance, the image of the soul elevated above matter, as the flame, whilst being tied to matter, shines above it.

Baphomet exhibits similar features: the head of a goat, a symbol on the forehead, and a flaming torch between the horns.

I couldn't identify the deity in this panel from Chapter 52, but we can deduce much from the 666 on its nose that its the devil. The monstrous figure is regarded as something beautiful by the crowd of admirers. The portrayal here differs from the anime in the manner that this paints a picture of deceit while the animation exudes power and authority.

The devil is a complex ethical symbol and It all comes together neatly in his questionable 2/10 ethics stat.

His debut eventually concludes with imagery of centipedes crawling around in the backdrop, the most dominant motif between the Asano men. That alone deserves a separate analysis, which I'll find time for later.

#asano gakushu #asano gakushuu #assassination classroom #ansatsu kyoushitsu #浅野学秀

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revasserium · 8 months

Text

the good earth

chevalier; 1,282 words, fluff and the barest hint of angst; chevalier agrees to have a picnic, gn!reader

you ask him out for a picnic, and he agrees before he can stop himself. later, he’d wonder what possessed him to entertain such foolishness, such misanthropic meanderings of the mind but then — then you smile, and he puts aside the seventeen things he’s had on his mind and reaches out to help you carry the four bottles of champagne.

by the time you all settle in the rose gardens, clavis is grinning like the devil and chevalier teeters briefly on whether or not to kick him in the shins.

he decides on not as you go about laying out the freshly baked breads and the soft, melting cheeses. there’s jam from the orchards and cakes from the kitchens. chevalier cocks his head as he watches you spread a liberal dollop of creme fraiche on a piece of bread and offer it to him.

“it’s good! i promise.”

chevalier quirks a single eyebrow, smirks, and takes it from you. the cream is sweet and light and tangy, the bread the perfect amount of warm and chewy. he wonders if the kitchens have always been this good, and then he wonders if it’s just the effect of you.

and later, much, much later — when they’ve all had their fair shares of creme and bread and fruits and jam, when the sun is hanging sweet and low as summer berries, the sky painted in languid, lazy brushstrokes of pinks and golds and blistering silver clouds, he finds himself watching you. like he always has.

“you’re staring,” you say, your eyes slipping towards him to catch his gaze, to hold it for a second before it flickers back up towards the darkening sky. up, far, far above you are the first burgeoning sighs of twinkling stars.

“yes,” he says, unabashed in his intensity, “so i am.”

he watches as your cheeks darken, watches as your eyes slowly slide back to meet his again. and this time, he doesn’t let you go. all around you, the other princes are slowly making their exits, their excuses muttered on smirking lips, first luke, then nokto, and finally even clavis, who’d been watching you both with a sharp, rapier-like amusement bows his head and heads back in. you try your best not to blush and you’re unsure if you manage it.

“there’s still a glass of champagne left.”

chevalier’s voice is pointed as always. you turn to look down at the half-filled flute sitting by your hand.

“so there is.”

“come.”

chevalier stands up with a woosh of ghost-white robes and offers you a hand. you regard it for a split second before taking it and letting him help you to your feet.

“leave the mess, we’ll come back to for it later,” he says, as if reading your mind.

you press your lips together but before you can make to follow him, he turns around, his eyes fixed on you as he says —

“bring the champagne.”

you blink. and then, you reach down for the glass.

you follow him to the memorial grounds, the huge marble monoliths carved with the names of all the knights and soldiers who had given their lives for the greater good. chevalier pauses before each with a solemn silence. you follow behind him, unable to stem your curiosity as you watch him.

“graves are for the living,” chevalier finally says as you come to a pause beside him, looking over the vast sunken green field of the memorial grounds, “they’re for us to mourn the dead. those who have passed have no use for them.”

you nod.

“yes… i know.”

“but it’s because of that… that they’re made all the more important,” he says, turning to face you again. there’s the shadow of a smile flickering across his lips.

“go on then, pour the champagne.”

you blink at him before turning back to the memorial grounds and slowly emptying the glass of champagne into the grass at your feet, pouring it out in a steady, horizonal line. a toast to the dead, made for the living.

how fitting.

later, after the remnants of the picnic have all been cleared away, after the glasses have been washed and the fruit pits disposed of. you find yourself watching him as he reads, leaning against the wall of your room, the balcony open against the tepid summer air.

“you’ve never done that before,” you say, without preamble. because chevalier has never needed you to explain to understand.

“hm.”

you bite back a grin, “what’s made you so sentimental?”

the book in chevalier’s hands snap shut.

“don’t asks questions you already know the answers to.”

you fight back the urge to roll your eyes as he pins you with a glare.

“alright, alright — but… it really isn’t like you… even after all…” you motion vaguely at the space between you and him with a faint blush, “all… this.”

at this, chevalier smirks, cocking his head, and you feel your stomach twist into ever tighter knots inside you.

“i suppose it’s because… someone somewhere once taught me that the only difference between a graveyard and a garden is what you choose to put in the ground,” he says, his head still cocked, his eyes cool even as you go ever and ever hotter beneath his penetrating gaze.

you can’t help but blush at his pointed words, but your body is awash with tingles as you finally parse out the depths of his admission.

you’d taught him something.

“o-oh! i — uhm… that’s… well,” you cast about for something to say, something other than oh and uhm. finally, you settle on, “sounds smart, whoever taught you that.”

chevalier’s smirk grows as he pushes off the large loveseat and closes in on the edge of your bed, towering over your as he looks down at you over his aquiline nose and sculpted lips.

“yes. they were.”

he leans down, and you feel your breath hitch in your chest as he presses you back into the soft, downy sheets of your bed.

“s-so… have you thought about… planting some more flowers in the memorial field, then?” you ask, averting your eyes as he crawls onto the bed, his weight shifting the bed beneath you, your traitorous heart thumping up against your chest in ever and ever faster rhythms.

“i have,” chevalier muses, his voice light and unaffected, “i’ve already given the order for it to be done.”

“oh…” is all you have in response, though it seems to please him all the same. you take a deep, steadying breath before forcing yourself to turn back and meet his piercing, star-fire gaze.

“so next time,” he says, pulling back suddenly, smoothing his hands over the material of his clothes as he makes his way back over to the loveseat to resume his book, “we might have a picnic there instead. once the flowers start blooming.”

“a picnic… in the memorial field,” you echo.

he nods, flipping open his book again.

a picnic with the dead… for the living.

you allow yourself a secret smile as you nod, thinking back to that last glass of champagne.

because yes — the only difference between a graveyard and a garden might be what you choose to put in the ground. but says who that life cannot thrive in a place for the dying? after all — graveyards are for the living, aren’t they? and champagne and flowers too.

“yes… i’d like that,” you say, nodding, smiling, bright as bright can be, “i’d like that very much indeed.”

requests are open

#chevalier michel #ikepri #ikemen prince #ikemen series #cybird ikemen #cybird otome #chevalier michel x reader #ikepri fluff #ikepri chevalier #chevalier michel fluff #ikemen prince fluff #cybird ikemen series #floofy floof floof #credit where credit is due the big graveyard vs garden line is from the one and only rudy francisco!#bc yes i am STILL a massive stan u__u but like. idk man #the where chev takes a knee in the graveyard made me feel things #c l ea r l y lol #IDK MAN. it's been a long rough day and i just. wanted to write this lol.

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explosionshark · 7 months

Note

top 5 horror book recommendations? it's spooky season and i need to get my read on...

Hell yeah! Gonna break this down a little. First an obligatory rehash of books I always recommend for this, these are like all-time faves for me

Wounds/North American Lake Monsters by Nathan Ballingrud - can't choose between these two, so they're tied for my favorite single author short story collection. Nathan Ballingrud is one of my favorite writers of all time

Her Body and Other Parties by Carmen Maria Machado - a very very close second for my favorite single-author short story collection. Machado is a beautiful writer and finding an author writing such powerful horror from a queer woman's perspective was world changing for me.

The Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson - COME ON!!!! You might have already read this but consider reading it again! Absolute classic.

The Cipher by Kathe Koja - dark, fucked up meditation on art and addiction and toxic relationships. I think about this book all the time. A guy finds a weird hole in his apartment basement and then everything goes wrong (first slowly and then very very quickly)

Red X by David Demchuk - talked about this a lot before too but I really do love it. Fictional story inspired by real life serial killings that took place in Toronto's gay village over decades. The author inserts essays throughout the book that makes it part memoir as well. A supernatural story about real queer trauma.

Okay with that out of the way, here's some recommendations for stuff I think would be fun for Halloween specifically

Echoes edited by Ellen Datlow - OKAY CHEATING I ALSO RECOMMEND THIS ALL THE TIME BUT IT'S A PERFECT OCTOBER BOOK!!! Fuck-off huge ghost story anthology. Huge range of tones, pretty diverse group of contributing authors, it's my all-time favorite anthology.

Slewfoot by BROM - this one's got major autumn vibes. It's a story of a woman in Puritan New England who's accused of witchcraft. It's also a story about the devil. Kind of. The print version has really amazing paintings by the author, but I've heard this is also good in audio.

Come Closer by Sara Gran - this is a great little novella. Possession story that really packs a punch. I can't really say much more than that, but it's not a huge time investment and I think it's really worthwhile.

Carmilla by Joseph Sheridan LeFanu - if you can, get the version edited by Carmen Maria Machado (she adds in some great footnotes and it has some neat art too). This is a classic and also quite a brisk read. The original lesbian vampire story.

Silver Nitrate by Silvia Moreno-Garcia - here's a new release for you! I always watch a ton of horror movies in October, and if you're anything like me maybe you'll want to read a horror novel about horror movies. This story follows a female film editor in 90s Mexico and her washed up actor friend as they help a retired filmmaker complete his famously unfinished last film, which he had been making with a former Nazi occultist before strange misfortunes and the occultist's mysterious disappearance forced production to shut down.

Okay that was double the amount of recommendations requested so I'm stopping here. Haha don't look in the tags don't worry about it there's nothing there you're crazy

#ALSO YOU SHOULD READ THE LAST DAYS OF JACK SPARKS BY JASON ARNOPP. GREAT ON AUDIO #ALSO THE HELLBOUND HEART BY CLIVE BARKER WHICH IS THE NOVELLA HELLRAISER WAS BASED ON #ALSO RING SHOUT BY P DJELI CLARK WHICH IS ABOUT BIRTH OF A NATION AND THE KKK BEING LITERAL DEMONS #ALSO THE BALLARD OF BLACK TOM BY VICTOR LAVALLE WHICH IS A BLACK RETELLING OF THE HORROR AT RED HOOK #ALSO THE RETURN BY RACHEL HARRISON WHICH IS A BOOK ABOUT FEMALE FRIENDSHIP BUT ALSO LIKE. COMING BACK WRONG #ALSO HOW TO SELL A HAUNTED HOUSE BY GRADY HENDRIX WHICH WILL MAKE YOU LAUGH BUT ALSO WILL MAKE YOU HATE PUPPETS #ALSO THE GOOD HOUSE BY TANANARIVE DUE WHICH IS A HAUNTED HOUSE STORY ABOUT BREAKING CYCLES OF GENERATIONAL TRAUMA #ALSO NIGHT OF THE MANNEQUINS BY STEPHEN GRAHAM JONES WHICH IS A FUN AND SHORT NOVELLA ABOUT A HORROR BUFF TEEN VS. WELL. THE MANNEQUINS.#book recs

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arwenkenobi48 · 1 month

Text

I’ve decided to make my own rewrite of alternate Gabriel and put him in a new original story, in light of recent events

[Warning: long post]

Basically, Gabe (as he is now called) is the subject of a painting created by an artist who unknowingly has the power to bring his artwork to life. Gabe loved it when his creator called him the most beautiful thing he’d seen and when the artist moved on to other projects, the painted angel basically went mad with jealousy.

Breaking free from his canvas, Gabe began corrupting the artist’s other paintings, turning them into twisted, monstrous images. When the horrified artist saw what was happening, he decried Gabe as a monster. Heartbroken and furious that his creator rejected him, Gabe killed the man and used his blood to create a new painting; a portrait identical to his dead creator, one that would be eternally loyal to him.

Gabe’s second in command, simply known as Edward (an expy of Six/the Intruder), still retains the skills of an artist and the mysterious powers he possessed before his murder. He creates more disturbing minions for his master, all while passing them off as ‘horror art’.

The vast majority of these art pieces fall into the hands of an eccentric rich man named Zekiel Thomson, who adds them to his vast collection. This guy’s so rich he has his own private art gallery that he shows off to all his wealthy socialite friends. After installing the ‘horror art’, however, things begin to take a turn for the worse.

First, mysterious music is heard in the night; the sickly sweet sound of a harp and the operatic voice of an angel. The last person to awaken to its sound is found dead the next day, mutilated and - most disturbingly - with a significant amount of blood missing.

As more and more of these mysterious murders unfold, Zekiel is plagued by nightmares in which Gabe’s demonic underlings are tormenting him. He resorts to hiring a detective named Vincent Truman, who’s something of a theology/occult enthusiast.

The main framing sequence of the story is told through Vincent’s notes on the case, as he goes from being sceptical of Zekiel’s credibility to finding himself in a tangled web of mass murder and blood magic, to standing face to face with the devil himself, The Painted Angel, Gabe.

I haven’t yet decided on a title for this story, but I quite like the sound of The Painted Angel. The Peculiar Case of Zekiel Thomson is another potential title, although it is a little wordy.

Also I decided to set the whole thing in England bc that’s a pretty good place for haunted paintings and unexplained phenomena. Adds a gothic feel to the whole thing too.

Kinda toying with the idea of frequently switching between different POVs between chapters but I don’t want it to get confusing. I guess that once I have the entire story mapped out it should be fine.

There’s going to be recurring themes of facing one’s inner demons, unprocessed trauma and self worth. Elements of the horror game Layers of Fear, an old Victorian story titled The New Mother, Skinamarink and Motion Picture Soundtrack by Radiohead are also going to be worked into the project.

I haven’t yet decided if this is going to be a straight up novel or a comic yet. My ability to draw is…inconsistent at best. I feel like the story might work better with some accompanying visuals, though.

But yeah that’s my thoughts so far. I have had bits and pieces of this project in my drafts for a while but I had no idea what to do with it. I think this could probably tie it all together.

Now I need to get some sleep bc I am exhausted. Lmk what you think of this idea and feel free to suggest any potential titles.

#arwen speaks #writing #creative writing #horror writing #horror project #alt!gabriel #oc: Zekiel #oc: Vincent Truman #gothic horror #supernatural horror #oc: Gabe #horror concept #fuck alex kister #gabe’s mine now

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sivellevossen · 8 months

Text

Just An Act

~part eight~

Prompt: You and Sebastian broke up following the events of 5th year. Now it is 7th year, you and Ominis are together and all seems well… until you and Sebastian are casted as lovers in a play.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10 *completed*

You were woken up by birds chirping and the sun casting a warm blanket over you. You instinctively went to sit up, not fully aware of what exact situation you had gotten yourself in the night before. You instantaneously knocked something with your head as you tried to get a hold on your surroundings.

“Ow.” You heard a rough and tired voice say. It hit you what happened. You fell asleep with Sebastian up in the Astronomy Tower, it was morning, and students would very soon be out and about. Your heart skipped a beat at the thought, wishing you two would’ve been able to enjoy yourselves last night in different circumstances. Your realization hit you and you were fully awake in that same second.

“Sebastian! We have to go!~” You said hastily, laughing slightly at the boy who was just as dazed as you once were.

“What? No come here, five more minutes..” He replied, not even opening his eyes as he reached to pull you back down to him. You laughed , shaking him off,

“No seriously! They’ll be up here any minute!” You said, very lightly slapping his cheek. Slapping was an exaggeration, you just needed to wake this man up before he got you in trouble…again. He opened his eyes, realizing he wasnt in bed with the girl of his dreams, and rather exposed to the world in the Tower.

“Merlin!” He said, quickly getting up and smoothing out his clothes. His eyes met yours, a small blush painting his cheeks as he saw your disheveled and groggy appearance.

“I’ve got to go! I have a test first thing! Until we meet again Bash!~” You said hurriedly, offering him a small smile before scurrying off. He was left there for a second, replaying last night in his head. He wasn’t sure how he kept managing to get so lucky in the worst possible situations. He smiled, looking back at the spot where you two slept, before making his way to his first class.

As you went along your day, you still felt like everyone was still looking at you. How did everyone just magically know your business?! Not to mention the fact that you hadn’t even told anyone, nor was it that entertaining. I guess when you have the reputation you possessed, people were too interested in what was going on.

“MC!” You heard Natty call out across the hall. You smiled, heading over to them because it had been a few days since you last spoke to them, and you needed girl talk bad. These boys were too much drama.

“Natty! Poppy!” You smiled. “You look terrible..” Poppy blurted out before Natty gave her a slight elbow. You laughed slightly, she was always so oblivious.

“MC… although you have so much to tell me, you need to know what people are saying” Natty warned, her tone serious. She nodded her head to the corner of the room, following her direction you saw Octavia and rolled your eyes. “Go on..”

“Octavia is saying awful things about you. She’s starting to say you dumped Ominis for her boyfriend, calling you awful muggle names, and that you sabotaged her so that you could kiss Sebastian.” Natty said in a hushed tone. You rolled your eyes even harder this time.

“Great.. and I’m sure Ominis has heard all about this as well.” You sighed, opting to sit next to Natty on the bench, “She seems so insufferable.” You sighed.

“Speak of the devil.” You heard Octavia shout in your direction.

“Sebastian has quite the taste in women..” Poppy whispered, causing you two to giggle. Octavia started stomping her way over to you, her other Slytherin group trailing behind her. You stood up from your seat, not wanting Natty and Poppy to get involved in your little love square.

“Octavia, I truly dont care for whatever show you’re trying to put on.” You sighed, meeting her halfway.

“Crossed wands. Just you and me. After class.” She stated, head held high in confidence. You hadn’t dueled in crossed wants since you were partners with Sebastian. You narrowed your eyes, feeling the old you coming to the surface. Ominis heavily encouraged you to live normally and peacefully, in consequence, your spark slowly went out.

“I’ll see you then.” You smirked. A look of surprise quickly took over her face, as if she expected you to back down. Normally, you wouldnt care for petty gossip, but this was affecting Ominis, Sebastian, and now Natty and Poppy.

You hadn’t noticed, but Sebastian and Ominis were both present for this interaction. Ominis was already heartbroken, heard you accept her duel and felt terrible. You were already falling back into the darkness. He didn’t see that you were doing this for him, again. You didn’t want Ominis to be subject to Octavia’s wrath, even if he slightly deserved it. He couldnt help but feel nervous and even more guilty. He discouraged your combat skills, and now you were out of practice facing a girl who wanted your head on a stake. It felt like the world he built for you all came crashing down, and it was all simultaneously his fault. He needed to fix this, show you how much he regretted his actions, and make it all up to you…he loved and cherished you too much not to.

Sebastian on the other hand, he saw the sparkle in your eyes. Your actions reminded him of your time together. There was no way he would miss your duel. If you won, great, celebrate with dinner at Three Broomsticks, if you lost, comfort you and nurse you back to health. Win-Win! Kind of…not really. But he did not doubt your skills for a second, you far surpassed him in combat back in the day, and there was no way you just forgot everything because of Ominis. It was who you were, with or without dark magic. Although, he prayed for you to win..the play was only in two days and he desperately wanted that moment with you.

Truthfully, you were a little nervous. Aside from a handful of poacher encounters, you really didn’t duel in a while. You were confident in your skills still, but Octavia genuinely had it out for you. Taking a deep breath, you tied up your hair and changed into your dueling clothes. There were still small tears and holes from your past duels. It was also a little snug, hugging your curves a little too-perfectly, but it was all you had…it wasnt like you were planning on fighting a vengeful ex girlfriend when you signed up for the play. You took your wand, and headed out.

When you walked into the arena, you saw a small crowd of kids there. Octavia was talking to her group, you hadn’t really thought about inviting anyone… Poppy and Natty were not cut out for this scene, Ominis was out of the question..and you hadn’t seen Sebastian but even then it seemed inappropriate.

“She arrives!” Lucan smiles, announcing your arrival. Everyone turned to you..including a familiar Slytherin boy tucked away in the corner. He didnt want to distract you, keeping his presence hidden. His eyes lingered for what seemed like forever, you looked perfect. He recognized your clothing, smiling slightly that you had held on to that piece of history you two shared together. His heart fluttered slightly, noticing how your clothes now fit you. His face turned bright red, biting his look and breaking his gaze to stop any other thoughts from forming… but if one thing was confirmed, he knew you were the one for him. He could not fuck up this time. He so desperately wanted to go to your side and duel with you, but this was important for you, and he refused to interfere.

“Perfect..” Octavia smirked, already drawing her wand and stepping into the playing field. You took a deep breath, going up to the opposite side as her, drawing your wand.

“Eager aren’t we!” Brattleby smiled, before counting down and beginning the match. She shot first, casting Flipendo. You were out of it, missing your Protego and falling victim to her spell. The concrete against your back sparked a fire that you had thought you forgotten. Gripping your wand tighter, you stood up, eyeing her as she chuckled,

“I was only getting started…” She smirked, ready to cast again while you hit her with an aggressive, Confringo. It hit her unexpectedly. The battle had officially begun. She went hard, but you went even harder, only getting hit a handful of times while she got flustered and missed her Protego half of the time. You were both bruised, one more than the other and you were ready to end this. You were fired up, adrenaline running as you cast Accio, followed by a somewhat over powered Descendo, sending her right into the concrete floor.

The small crowd cheered as you put your wand away, catching your breath and wiping away a slightly bloodied lip.

“And the winner is….MC!” Lucan smiled, handing you a small ribbon of victory. You took it, putting it in your pocket before offering a hand to help her up, hoping this feud would be over. Past you would’ve practically walked over her, but you were different. Ominis nurtured your gentle side, causing an even balance between being ‘good’ and ‘bad’. She looked up at you, before taking your hand and standing up, a slightly embarrassed look on her face.

“I…I’m sorry for overreacting.” She said, her words going unnoticed by everyone else around you due to the commotion.

“Are we okay now?” You asked, offering a small smile and she nodded slightly. She looked over, noticing something before giving you a sad smile, “I know why now..” She said cryptically. You gave her a confused look before she retreated to her friends. You looked around, before practically being knocked back by some unknown force.

“MC! You did great!” A very familiar voice said, and before you knew it you were in their arms. You looked up, seeing the familiar brown curls and freckled skin. A small blush formed, not realizing he had been watching you the whole time.

“Sebastian!” You smiled, parting from his embrace.

“Come on, lets ditch this place!” He smiled, grabbing your hand and pulling you away from he arena…completely forgetting that he had not mentioned his plan for the Three Broomsticks. Grabbing your hand was so natural to him, he didn’t even think about his actions as he did it. As you left, the chilly breeze hit your face, calling attention to the warmth at your hands. You both let go of your grasps, remembering that things were not the same as they once were.

“Where are we even going?!” You laughed, basking in the cool fall air…that arena had you working up a sweat that you hoped wasnt terrible.

“Oh! Oh..um..the Three Broomsticks… but if you dont want to that’s okay! I just figured..” He started rambling. This had been what you did back in the day after winning a duel. You smiled, heart skipping a beat as you chuckled, “Sounds great.”

As you arrived, Sirona was shocked to see you two together. Your face still had some dried blood on it, and she had just assumed you guys were back together.

“My favorite couple!” She smiled, “Been a while hasn’t it..” She winked, before taking your order and setting off. You two immediately blushed, him choking on his butter beer. You avoided eye contact for the next couple of seconds, trying to recover from the feelings Sirona brought to the surface.

“You were seriously amazing out there.” Sebastian complimented, taking a sip of his butter beer.

“I was so nervous…it had been so long since i was in that arena. I couldnt let her continue to drag everyone in drama, especially Ominis.” You explained. Sebastian was reminded of the harsh reality. This wasnt a normal night, there were so many more layers to it.

“Ominis…? You’re back together?” He queried, secretly hoping you would say no.

“Well..no? We’re on a break technically, but regardless of his actions, I don’t want him suffering from the gossip and rumors. I still care about him, I just dont know if I’m willing to forgive and forget.” You explained, “regardless of my presence, I want his last year to go as good as possible.”

“You’re so kind..” Sebastian said softly not really thinking what was coming out of his mouth. He noticed your change in maturity. You could now still hold your spark and have a good heart. He loved this version of you more than he did in the past.

“Thank you?” You laughed. You enjoyed your night together, yet again. It 100% felt like you two were on a date, but neither of you even thought of bringing that conversation up. At the end of the night, you two were feeling very bubbly due to the butter beers and feelings. He walked you to the common room, smiling sheepishly,

“I’m sorry for stealing you away from any of your night plans.” He smiled, holding your hand, which neither of you fully realized.

“Oh no…you ruined my plans of going up to the Astronomy tower in hopes that my knight in shining armor comes to greet me~” You smiled playfully, looking up at him with wide, innocent eyes. He blushed at your comment, getting the confidence to subtly flirt back,

“Instead, your knight opted for intercepting your celebration and stealing you away.” You smiled, eyes meeting his and lingering for what felt like forever. Silence fell upon you, both of your hearts ready to burst out of your chests. His eyes never left yours, instead he started moving his head down to your level. Just as you were about to mimic his movements, footsteps approached,

“MC..” A familiar voice spoke. You both instantly sobered up in that moment, breaking apart and looking towards the voice. Your faces bright red, and minds flustered.

“Ominis..”

A/N: 2 parts left!!! One more Ominis chapter for you~ and then finale !! Working on the last parts asap!!

#fanfic #hogwarts fanfiction #hogwarts legacy #ominis gaunt #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x slytherin!reader #sebastian sallow x you #video games #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis x mc

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drunkwalkhomecore · 2 years

Text

I love you, tenderly, tragically

Pairing: Wonyoung x gender-neutral reader

Genre: childhood best friends to lovers, mutual pining, fluff and minor angst with a happy ending, SFW

Warning: mentions of drinking, smoking, loud music, huge crowds, minor swearing and tight spaces. Reader is a bit possessive about Wonyoung (but nothing toxic)

Word count: 2500+ words

Summary: Wonyoung was your very best friend, your soulmate. But seeing her date all these dudes. It made you sick and in the end you chased them away. But Liz knew what was going on.

Note: so here goes nothing .-. also im sorry if it was not up to your expectations .-. Reader uses they/them pronouns btw. And there might be grammatical errors too so don't mind them.

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“Bestie stop staring at him like that. He’s not gonna die even if you keep thinking about it.”

“Shut up Liz.” you glared at the guy that was hugging Wonyoung by her waist. She was smiling at him while listening to him talk about what happened in the morning. It made you sick. Not by seeing them but the way he looked at her.

“Nobody should look at her like that.” you gritted.

“Bestie, you do this with every guy she dates and chase him away! In the end, we both know you’re in love with your best friend! Just admit it already!” Liz rolled her eyes.

“No! I dont love her like that! I just… I'm just mad that she doesnt pay attention to us nowadays after she started dating that trash digging racoon.”

“He has a name ya know.”

“And it’s Racoon!”

“You sure you dont have those type of feelings for her? And you ain't jealous seeing her with him?”

“No! I mean yes! I ain't jealous and I don't have those feelings for her! Liz, don't you feel angry as well?”

“Nah. I'm sure I'm happy for her. She finally looks happy.” she gestured towards them. “You on the other hand.”

“Shush.”

“Okay.”

A few seconds later. “Liz, you sure she’s happy? It looks so fake.”

“Bruh.” Liz shook her head and kept doing her remaining homework. There’s no use in arguing with this idiot.

–

You were lying in your bed, hugging your pillow. You wondered. Was Liz saying the truth? That you were in love with your best friend?

‘Did I actually love her? Like love-love? Like i wanted her to be my girlfriend? I see her as my… girlfriend? Oh god this is so weird.’

You again buried your face in your pillow and faced the ceiling. Wonyoung and you drew paintings on your ceiling. She said your room was boring and she wanted to bring some life into it. She was really good at painting. You were average at it but she was the best at it.

You smiled thinking about those moments. It was one of best moments in your life. You never wanted to loose her.

‘Wait... i have a crush on her? Oh shit! I don't! I hope she never sees me again then! It's embarrassing! It would have been better if she didnt know i existed! But she does! OML, kill me!’

A ding from your phone and you sprang up to check who messaged you. Speak of the devil, Wonyoung messaged you. You saved her number as ‘favourite person<3’.

Favourite person<3:

AYOOOOOO

BESTIEEEEE

COMING TO THE PARTY TODAYYYYYY???????

Issokay if you dont want to

I know you hate those kind of places.

Your hand hovered over the phone. Should you message her back? You didnt open it yet. If you didnt, she probably would think you were sleeping. But you couldnt control yourself and you texted her back.

Me:

Sure :D

What was wrong with you?

She immediately messaged back.

Favourite person<3:

Damn is it you y/n?

Should i check your temperature later?

Me:

Yes it's me, idiot.

Now go i have to get ready

Favourite person<3:

Okieee

Byee

I love youuuuuu

Me:

I love you tooooo

Byeeee

Your heart was thumping against your chest. You used to say ‘i love you’ to each other regularly. But this meant so much to you.

You couldn’t wait to meet Wonyoung at the party.

After ten years of digging through your closet, you gave up and went to the party with what you were wearing before. A grey hoodie and gym pants. It's better that not going to the party.

She would understand why you didn't show up but you had promised to her to be there. You weren't gonna break a promise you made to her.

Arriving at the place, you cringed. These teenagers are behaving like animals. They have no respect for the place. Why were you here again? You could already feel the claustrophobia crushing in. The entire population came here. Ew.

You took a deep breathe in. You were here for Wonyoung. Not for them. You walked in and regretted walking inside.

Loud music, smoke in the air and smell of alcohol made you nauseous. Maybe you should hide in the bathroom for a while and message her. It was better than staying here.

You were finding the bathroom when you heard Wonyoung call for you from the back. “Y/n!”

You turned around and you burst into a huge smile. Wonyoung did her hair which made her look like a princess. She wore the black frock you gifted her and thigh high socks. She looked so beautiful today. She stood out from the crowd so bad.

“Where were you? I was finding you everywhere.” her voice made you smile even more.

“Stop laughing y/n. I was really scared that you wouldnt come here. I miss you, you know. Even if it has been a few hours.”

“Uh…” that made you blush. You hope she couldnt see it. Well it was dark but you hoped she couldn't see it. “I just arrived here. I was searching for you.”

“Wonyoung!” her boyfriend arrived her and kissed her cheek. He threw his arm around and it was difficult to keep a smile on your face anymore. He really had the guts to do this right in front of you, didn't he?

“Who’s this?” he asked her while scanning you head to toe. So he’s my competition? Heh! As if he’s so good! Stupid trash digging racoon!

“This is my best friend y/n. I told you about them didnt i?”

“I remember! I'm jacob by the way.” he offered a hand and you shook it hesitantly.

“I’m y/n.”

“Wonyoung talks about a lot about you.”

“She talks about me?” you looked at her with an amused face.

“Yeah. She said you two have been friends since seven, you’re a genius at every subject and you wanted to move away with her somewhere once?”

“Oh. Right.” damn Wonyoung.

“Babe, are you gonna come along with us or are you gonna stay with your friend?” he asked.

“I’ll stay with her thank you very much.”

“Whatever you say. It was nice to meet you y/n. See you two around.” he kissed her cheek and left with his friends.

Now you realised why she was crazy about him. Shit, he’s good.

After that party, you felt down and bad about yourself. Her boyfriend was such a considerate guy. And he was really sweet and respectful towards her and everyone else. He was the best guy out of all the guys she dated in the past.

Could Wonyoung even like you with such a great guy by her side?

Your friends noticed it. So did Wonyoung. but she didn't know the reason. She asked you what was the reason.

“Dont worry about it much okay? I just feel drained after that party. It's gonna take some time to recover.”

“Okay~ are we gonna do the homework together today though?” she smiled in your face and you felt bad for what you were gonna say to her.

“I'm sorry Wonyoung but I have a test coming tomorrow and i have to study. You know i need peace and quiet so.” you checked the time. “And i'm late for class so see you around.”

Liz knew what was happening. You called her after the party. She could feel what you were going through. Not like she actually went through it but she knew.

You knew Jacob was great for Wonyoung and they really liked each other. They had good chemistry with each other. And you didnt want to come in between them. So you were distancing yourself from her. It hurted you but you thought it was the best.

You also knew Wonyoung was hurting too but she has Jacob by her side so she’ll forget about it soon enough.

Damn this love story is a mess.

You hadnt talked to Wonyoung for two months. If she came to you during lunch, you would grab the lunch and runaway. Same in the hallways. Even in the grocery story. In the neighborhood. You ranaway or went in the opposite direction.

Wonyoung wasn't like she would follow you. She had her pride and anger as well. But she couldn't keep being angry at you all the time.

“Liz does y/n hate me now?” she asked her one evening in the call.

“No girl it's … it's complicated. They love you girl. Very much. Just their mind’s a mess right now. They don't talk to me too anymore. Something about a depressive episode I guess.”

That was a lie. You and Liz were still talking. If Wonyoung found out, she’d be devastated.

A few days later, you were doing your homework in school absent-mindedly when you heard.

“They broke up?!” one of the girls behind you whispered.

“What?” you turned to them.

“You havent heard?” You shook your head. “Wonyoung and her boyfriend broke up yesterday.”

“What?! How?! I thought she was so in love with him!”

“Me too! But nobody knows why and how.”

You brought out your phone and texted Liz.

Me:

LIZ!

WONYOUNG AND JACOB BROKE UP!

Froggie:

WHAT

Me:

YEAH

THEY DID!

Froggie:

WHEN

Me:

YESTERDAY

Froggie:

WHY AM I HEARING THIS NOW?

OML AFTER SCHOOL LETS GO TO HER HOUSE.

Me:

Wouldnt it be awkward for me?

Froggie:

SHUT UP!

SHES A FRIEND

YOUR VERY BEST FRIEND

ISSOKAY

COME TO MY HOUSE AT 3 AND WE’LL GO TO HER PLACE TOGETHER

Me:

OKAY

At 3:10, you were at Wonyoung's house. Liz rang the bell and you were internally panicking. Would Wonyoung suddenly hate you for turning up at her house after suddenly ghosting her for three months straight? Would she slap you and kick you out?

Whatever happens, you deserved it anyway.

Mrs. Jang opened the door and knew what you two were here for. “She’s upstairs, watching horror movies again.”

“Oh my lord, she’s crazy!” Liz yelled and ran upstairs. You followed her slowly.

There were pictures of you and Wonyoung on the wall. A few along with Liz.

The picture that caught your eye was a picture of you and Wonyoung when you two were seven. You had climbed on a tall trees in her backyard and she was scared that you would fall down and die. Silly girl.

You knocked on her door twice and stepped in. Liz was putting some other movie while Wonyoung stared into nothing.

“Hi… Wonyoung. How have you been doing?”

Wonyoung finally came to earth hearing you and stood up. She stomped towards you and you though she was gonna slap you.

Instead she hugged you tightly. “Please dont ever ignore me. I'm sorry y/n.” that caught you off guard.

“What? I should be the one saying sorry. I ghosted you for three months and shut you out cause i was depressed again. You’re my best friend and i shouldn’t have done that. I'm really sorry. I won't do that ever again. Please dont think it was your fault.”

Tears formed in her eyes. “Look at you. You silly girl. Crying for stupid reasons again.” you wiped her tears and held her face. “Don't be so hard on yourself stupid.”

“Yes ma’am.”

You three were back together. The best of friends. Watching movies and eating junk food like you used to in sleepovers. You didn't talk about Jacob or anybody else. Just you three and nobody else.

The time came when you and Liz had to leave. But Wonyoung didnt want you to leave. Liz had a test but you didn't. You hoped that you could stay for the night.

It was like God had granted her wish. Your mom called and she said she couldn't come home today. There was too much work to do. She said you could stay at Wonyoung’s or Liz’s for today.

Wonyoung was so happy about it. She had you all for herself for the night.

Liz had left at 9 after eating dinner so you two were having a sleepover. You two had sleepovers at her house so many times that she had your old clothes in her closet.

“This is gonna be so fun! I still have that pillow you left.” she took it out and threw it at you. “Catch!”

You caught it and thought out loud. “Actually i was thinking of maybe we could sleep in a bit early today? It has been a long day.”

“Yeah it has been. I’ll go get my extra blankets.”

She was such a sunshine and a ball of energy. Unlike you. You were tired even if you got enough sleep.

You had changed into your old clothes by the time she came back with the extra blankets. Wonyoung turned off the lights and you unfolded it. You laid in her bed and she laid beside her.

She turned to you and both stared at each other wordlessely.

“y/n?”

“Yeah.”

“I love you.”

You smiled a little. “I love you too.”

“No no. I think i love you.”

“You love me? That way?”

She nodded. Okay that was surprising. “Its okay if you dont love back. Its understandable.”

“No! I love you too but. I thought you liked Jacob! He was such a good guy.”

“I know but i didnt like him. He confessed to me and i said yes. All of the guys i’ve dated, they confused to me and i said yes. But i didnt like them at all. I was faking it.”

“Why?”

“Well, its stupid.” she turned towards the ceiling. “I thought you would think of me as a freak if i confessed to you. You would cut your friendship with me. And i didnt want that. So i hid my feelings from you. From everyone actually.”

“How did you and Jacob break up though?”

“He said he lost his feelings for me. It was a stable relationship but something was missing for him. So i gave a fake reason too. I said i also lost feelings too. We agreed and its a mutual break up i guess.”

“Oh… when did you realise you were in love with me then?”

“You know the play of sleeping beauty and we played the leads when we were 12?”

You laughed. “Our disastrous first kiss.”

She shook her head. “Wasn't for me though. I liked it. No i loved it. I wanted to keep kissing you after that. I’ve been love with you, ever since.”

“I… i dont know what to say.”

“You know this is the part you ask me to be your girlfriend right?” she cheekily said.

You laughed. “Okay Miss Jang Wonyoung. Be my girlfriend.”

“Yes!” she smiled and you wondered how do you have such a pretty friend, no, girlfriend. She’s your girlfriend now. “But let’s keep it private for a while. It’ll be too sudden ya know.”

“Let’s tell Liz though.”

“She has been shipping since day 1. She would be so happy.” Wonyoung giggled.

“Yeah. Come here.”

She scooted over to you and turned her back to you. You hugged her and she held your hand.

You could get used to this.

------

Tagging @hahaha-darn-it

#wonyoung #jang wonyoung #wonyoung x reader #ive #ive x reader #friends to lovers #my writing #writing #fanfiction #ive fanfic #childhood best friends to lovers #mutual pining #fluff #minor angst #best friends to lovers

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muchamusedaboutnothing · 1 year

Text

Heart of a Hunter Act VII - Ch. 12

Characters: Dean x doctor!Reader, Sam Winchester

This story is Act 7 of a saga.

New to the story? Get caught up on the Heart of a Hunter Saga here.

All your favorite Winchesters are alive, in spite of the curse that nearly took them from you. After coming so close to losing the only family you have left in this world, you’re taking matters into your own hands. There’s a witch to hunt.

Series Warnings:

Character injuries/sickness - Take note that no one is excluded from this.

Canon-typical violence and language.

Lots of whump.

Lots of caring for hurt characters.

Smut (18 Only. NSFW. You were warned.)

Angst.

Fluff.

Medical talk. Is that even a warning

Image Credit: bing image search, google image search, Supernatural Wiki

Wordcount: 2485

Chapter 12

You grabbed a flask full of holy water out of your duffle bag and put that in your jacket pocket.

You were armed with an angel blade in one hand and your .40 caliber which was loaded with devil's trap ammo. Your .380, loaded with witch killing bullets, was holstered on your hip. You also had several extra magazines containing both loads on your belt.

You were on red level alert, eyes scanning your surroundings. You half expected the shop door to open and more demons to appear as you drew nearer, but nothing so exciting happened as you reached the door.

The shop was still under construction, but your earlier prediction that it was a new shop seemed correct judging by the shelves lining the walls in the first two rooms. You moved quickly and quietly, stepping on paint drop cloths and dodging ladders and paint rollers.

To your relief, you found the entire first floor to be empty. That meant the witch had to be upstairs, but it just couldn't be that easy. She must have sensed you - sensed someone inside the shop and called her minions back to her because you'd only just cleared the first floor and approached the stairway when you heard a noise behind you.

You turned to find one demon stalking toward you, wearing a cocky smile. You pointed in your weapon, lining the sites up between his eyes. He wore a clergy neckband shirt beneath his black leather jacket. It was clear the demon hadn't known what or who to expect until he neared you, but you knew by his expression the second he figured out you were a hunter.

"I was hoping I'd get to have some fun," he said simply, raising his hand in an attempt to thwart you with his power. He was too slow. You pulled the trigger, firing a bullet with a devil's trap carved into the slug.

He couldn't have known what hit him before it was too late. The bullet incapacitated him, stunning him briefly, but it was just long enough for you to unsheath your angel blade and slide it between his ribs.

You weren't naive enough to think he was the only one who would show up. With the stairway behind you and the witch almost certainly waiting upstairs, you were torn about your next move. The witch would have heard the gunshot, but what she’d choose to do about it? Well … you could only guess.

You put your back against the wall, debating about making a break for it up the stairway as you realized the space directly in front of you probably led to the back door. No sooner than you'd completed that thought, you heard a door open, accompanied by more sounds to your left.

Reinforcements had come. More than one, from the sound of things.

You pointed the gun straight ahead with your right hand, wielding the demon blade in your left. You were vulnerable to the witch if she chose to attack at that very moment. You could only hope she didn't want to get her hands dirty and would rely on her cronies to do the work instead.

A demon from the back door came into view first, and unlike the first one, he hesitated when he saw you. You recognized his face from the picture Sam had sent. He’d been a slowly dying patient before being possessed. His hesitation was enough that you were able to fire off a shot, incapacitating him.

But another demon rushed you from the side faster than you could react. This was the other faux Priest demon you’d seen before. He gripped your left wrist, twisting the angel blade out of your hand with inhuman strength, turning it on you as he pulled your body forward.

You spun away from him trying to get far enough away from the blade, but the effort caused your opposite elbow to slam into the wall. Nerve pain zinged through your arm, momentarily rendering your hand useless. It was all you could do to keep a grip on your firearm. There was a hot sensation in your side you would later attribute to a stab wound, but adrenaline masked the pain just then.

In a desperate attempt not to get pinned against the wall, you head-butted the demon. Stars burst behind your eyes for a brief second at the impact, pain ringing through your head.

While it didn't cause the demon to reel backward in pain, it did put him off balance just enough you could angle your body away and plant your feet on the ground.

You pointed your gun in on the demon as he looked up and realized he was in your sights. You hoped the nerves in your arm had recovered enough to fire off a shot. Your vision was still a little blurry, but you could see well enough to aim for the center of his head.

You pulled the trigger, putting a Devil's trap slug just above his left eyebrow and trapping him where he stood. He froze in place, body going rigid, and you took a step forward to yank the angel blade away from him.

In a few succinct moves you shanked both demons. The orange glow emitting from the knife wounds flickered out as they died before the angel blade slid with a sickening slurp when you yanked it free. One after another, the bodies the demons had been wearing dropped in a heap to the floor, adding to the body count.

You took a deep breath to center yourself and appreciate the fact that you were still on your feet. That's when you realized blood seemed to be seeping through your shirt. You holstered your gun quickly, tucking the angel blade away. Your hands shook with adrenaline as you lifted your shirt to inspect the laceration in your right side.

The cut was longer than it was deep and had caught the furthest edge of your skin. You definitely hadn’t been as successful as you’d thought at spinning away from the angel blade when the demon had turned it on you. After a brief moment of assessing the damage, you were at least confident the blade hadn't hit any vital organs.

As if visually seeing the wound had set something off in your brain, the pain associated with it finally came rushing in, burning hot and throbbing. It was also bleeding considerably. The best you could do in the moment was tie your jacket around your waist to slow it down.

Your head ached from your little head-butting maneuver, and the ringing in your ears was competing with the sound of your blood pumping.

You gripped the .380 from your holster that was loaded with witch-killing bullets and stepped past the lifeless bodies of the poor people the demons had possessed. There was no time to mourn them now.

You were on a mission. The grief in your heart for the suffering your infant son had endured at the hands of the witch upstairs fueled you on.

The torment you still carried after having stopped Dean's and Sam's hearts in the infirmary while Jonah had fought for his life pulsed through you with every heartbeat. Every throbbing, searing pain in your side. Every breath moving in and out of your lungs as you ascended the stairway.

Your boots felt heavier than usual as you took the steps one at a time. Your gun felt colder in your hands.

And god … this was revenge, yes, but it was so much more than that. If this Borrower witch was allowed to escape, you'd be responsible for everyone she hurt from this day forward. Not just the people you loved, but anyone who had the misfortune of crossing her path.

You didn't need the details of her plans in this new place to understand the severity of them.

You were a healer. A hunter. You saved people.

You'd do whatever it took to make sure she never hurt anyone again. The revenge part just meant you’d actually enjoy seeing the light go out of her eyes.

Blocking out the pain, you moved quickly and quietly once you reached the second level. It was a more straightforward floor plan with a long hall and several rooms branching off of it. You’d have to clear them all as you went, and even if the witch had ignored the gunshots downstairs, she’d certainly be expecting a report of some kind from her cronies soon.

You had to act fast.

The laceration in your side was still bleeding and had soaked through your jacket sleeve. You could feel the blood seeping down your pant leg and quickly tightened the jacket around your middle, trying again to slow it, though it was going to take some real supplies and your med kit to make any real headway.

The first room was clear of threats, full of mostly open boxes with herbs and bottles of some sort. The second contained more of the same with a few filing cabinets and some framed artwork stacked up against the back wall. The next two rooms were empty and had a fresh coat of paint on the walls from the smell of things.

When you neared the end of the hall and only one door remained, you approached it with your gun pointed in. You sent up a silent prayer to whoever was listening that you’d do what you’d come for and live to tell about it.

Then you quickly turned the knob and threw the door open.

A woman sat at a larger, but simple wooden desk across the room with her back to you. She slowly turned in her chair, and while she cast her eyes upward at your rather dramatic entrance, she didn’t have the sense to be as worried about your intrusion as she should have been.

You stepped forward into the room, barrel pointed in at the center of her chest.

You took a moment to study the face of the woman who had caused your family so much turmoil, so much heartache. Your heart was pounding, palms sweating, and the adrenaline pumping through your system was working against you as much as it was sustaining you in the fight.

“Well, well, well…. Look at you,” she said with a casual air as she watched you approach. You stopped a few feet short of her. “Little Miss Hunter, come to save the town from the big bad demons?”

You weren’t about to dignify that with a response. She sneered in hostile amusement. And seeing the smug look on her face just pissed you the hell off.

“I figured it would happen eventually,” she said with a hint of annoyance. “Some do-good hunter was bound to catch wind of the demon activity in the area and come looking. You see, it’s so hard to find good help these days….Tell me, did you leave me any loyal followers or have you picked them all off? I really hate to start all over-”

“I’m not some random hunter,” you cut in, interrupting her incessant blabbering. “I didn’t wander into a nest of demons only to be surprised that a witch is involved. I know exactly who you are. What you are.”

“It’s hardly a surprise that a hunter would recognize a witch,” she said slowly, but the amused smile she wore was fading.

“Not just a witch,” you corrected. “A stupid witch. One with a death wish. A Borrower.” And the surprise that flashed in her eyes just then was more than a little satisfying to witness. “But these witch-killing bullets I’m packing will do the trick just the same.”

“What makes you think those will work on me?” the witch said as she moved to stand. You made a slight adjustment to your aim and pulled the trigger, purposely burying a round just to the side of her clavicle in her left shoulder.

The witch cried out in pain and clutched her shoulder, falling back down into her chair at the impact. “That’s for the letter you left behind for my husband,” you said.

The implication of your words passed over her face in a quick wave, along with the realization that she'd been wrong to underestimate you.

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion then as she waved her hand with wordless magic just as you fired off another shot. With her left arm hanging limp at her side, she only managed to derail the bullet’s trajectory, sending it ricocheting. You immediately fired again, this time hitting her in the opposite forearm.

By then the first round bounced off the metal filing cabinet, and then the metal beam that ran the length of the ceiling before embedding itself in the flesh of your right thigh.

You gasped and stumbled as the bullet tore through flesh. Even so, you refused to take your eyes off her for even a second.

Regret filled the witch’s eyes as she managed to get to her feet again. Her right wrist was broken, deformed by the damage from the second shot, making it difficult for her to use her hand. As a result, her attempt to combat you with magic looked more like useless flailing.

She was pitiful. And evil. And as good as dead.

“And this one is for trying to take my entire family from me. Go. To. Hell….”

You fired again. The round went directly through her heart. She collapsed in a heap, half landing on her chair before her body slumped off grotesquely and slid to the floor with a dull thud.

You held your aim for thirty seconds longer just to play it safe. With pained effort, you managed to crouch down to feel for a pulse. You just had to be sure, but it was over.

She was dead.

Your relief was so great it dulled the pain in your side and your thigh as you rose to your feet again in silent celebration.

Your thigh was bleeding considerably more than the knife wound had. You reached a hand down to feel for the damage, confirming your fears. There wasn't an exit wound which meant the bullet was still lodged inside. The pain wasn’t as sharp as it would be soon, but the adrenaline rush sustaining you wouldn’t last long.

You needed to get yourself bandaged up. And fast.

You pulled your belt off and secured it nice and snug - but not too tight - around your thigh over the gunshot wound just before you heard the noise.

Someone else had entered the building, and he wasn't being quiet about his absolute shock as he observed the carnage down below. You could hear his exclamations of disgust and fury from where you stood.

And god, this new demon would come looking for his master next.

Act VII Masterlist.

You can find the Masterlist for the Heart of a Hunter Saga here.

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#Heart of a Hunter #dean x doctor!reader #spn series #spn reader insert #dean x reader

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