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#barb have my babies
misc-obeyme · 3 months
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mc cant make bread at the house of lamentation. unless its one with a very short resting time and while beel is away at a game/other time consuming activity bc otherwise he just. eats the raw dough. and likes it like a sweet lil weirdo. and of course he gets rly guilty abt it seeing mcs face when they come outta the kitchen like 'does anyone know what happened to my bread 🥺'
sometimes if he knows mc wants to make bread hell make a point to stay out for most of the day so hes not tempted. otherwise mc has to go to the demon lords castle (fancy and prolly has a proof box, but availability can be spotty) or purgatory hall (risk of solomon)
also, since the devildom tends to be much warmer than the human world i bet rising/rest times are cut much shorter. but it begs the question of if yeasts native to the devildom need higher temperatures to activate. probably i feel thatd make sense.
also mild fluff headcanon: barbatos sees mc's interest in the differences between human world and devildom yeasts and helps them build a lil sourdough starter experiment where they make ones from the different types and see how they compare :) And since starters can become specialized to the bacteria of the person who made it (when its mixed by hand) they obvs have to each do a set of human world and devildom starters (barb likes to give them bread made from the starters specialized to him cuz it feels like a way of marking mc :3 )
do i know how to be concise? no. is bread science sick as hell? yes. -🥐
YO I love all of this!!
Okay okay, Beel eating bread dough, though. And deliberately making sure he's not home when MC wants to bake bread, that is so so CUTE. Poor baby Beel can't keep himself away from the bread dough and has to leave the house entirely so MC can bake some bread in peace, please that's adorable.
I definitely think the castle is probably the best option for alternative baking locations. As you pointed out, Purgatory Hall is too risky.
I know nothing about yeast. The only bread I've ever baked has been bread that's actually cake. You know, like pumpkin bread and zucchini bread. They're really cake, right? They taste like cake. I think it's the loaf formation that causes people to call them bread. All of this is to say that I feel I have learned some new facts about yeast. It never ever would have crossed my mind that the Devildom temperature would impact the rate at which yeast rises. And I LOVE the idea of native Devildom yeast!
You killed me with that fluffy Barb headcanon... BARB give me all your bread made from your specialized starters lasdfkjldfkj. Everyone must know whose bread I'm eating!! Please that's such a cute way of being possessive and so totally his style. It's like this one is mine, but I'm not going to be loud about it or anything. I'm indicating it with my bread. I love it. I love him.
Once again, I know nothing of bread baking, but I would give my soul to have a sourdough starter experiment with Barbatos. It's such a cute little scenario, I absolutely love it.
Ahhh what would I do without you bringing all the baking knowledge to my ask box, 🥐 anon?? I'm really in love with all of these ideas!
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andrewknightley · 7 months
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I stoled this meme cause it was fun
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girlscience · 10 months
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downloaded tumblr again today because if i do not distract myself i am going to shake so hard the lab will collapse
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welcometoteyvat · 1 year
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chongyun brainrot hours
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barrygeuse · 2 years
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stop. shipping beetlejuice with only one of the maitlands especially if it’s adam and double especially if it leads to you ignoring or ending a&b’s relationship in any way. beej flirts with them both openly plus if i see any more maitlands relationship erasure i’m going to eat!!! my hat!!!
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z-mizcellaneous-z · 1 year
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was past me back in high school a sad pathetic little meow meow emo bitch who i am glad i no longer am? absolutely. did past me also have killer fucking taste in music? FUCK YES, OH MY GOD. THESE ARE A FUCKING BOP WHAT THE HELL-
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harunayuuka2060 · 2 months
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Professor Trein: I've never seen your classmates- I mean, your students this behave.
MC: They just value their lives, professor.
Cerberus: Grrr...
MC: Oh. Is there anyone trying to cheat?
Random student: !!! *immediately rips off his cheat sheet*
MC and Professor Trein: ...
Professor Trein: Can I borrow Cerberus for my history class later?
MC: Sure thing, professor. But how about, Lucius?
Cerberus: Grrr...
MC: Aww~ Look at you, Cerberus! You're such a good boy! Be good to Professor Trein and his cat, hm? I'll play with you together with Lucifer after you finish your task. *pets him*
Cerberus: *wags his tail*
The students: *thinking* Curse Crowley...
Barbatos: Great work, MC. Here's your Hell Coffee.
MC: Thanks. *takes a sip* Ah.
MC: So bitter.
Barbatos: *chuckles* It's more bitter than before, isn't it?
MC: *smiles* Yes. *then their face saddens*
Barbatos: Is there something wrong?
MC: I just missed Luke and Simeon.
Barbatos: Hm. Then why not invite them here?
MC: ...
Barbatos: Don't tell me you have forgotten that you possess the power of the Ring of Light?
MC: ...
MC: *facepalm* Yes.
Barbatos: *chuckles* I figured. Now, don't sulk and enjoy your recess.
MC: Thank you, Barb.
MC: Vil... What are you doing here?
Vil: I've heard from your demon butler that you are turning yourself into an angel to gain access to this Celestial Realm.
MC: Yes?
Vil: I must see what you will look like, potato.
MC: ...
MC: Okay. I think it'll be fine if you're the only spectator- Lilia, what are you doing here too?
Lilia: Same reason. *while holding a camera*
MC: ...
MC: Whatever.
Solomon: *chuckles* You're famous even here, huh?
MC: More like infamous, but yeah. Anyway, Sol? Mind lending me a hand?
Solomon: No problem. *uses magic to change them*
Vil and Lilia: *in awe; also Lilia not forgetting to snap pictures*
MC: Okay! I'm ready to get my baby!
Solomon: And your other husbando.
MC: Right. *breathes in*
MC: I am the magician, MC…Ring of Light! Heed my words! Open the way forward and create a path where there was none!
MC: Unlock the Gates of the Celestial Realm!
Vil: Ugh... Everything is bright! I can't see a thing!
Lilia: Good thing I have my sunglasses.
Vil: *frowns*
*The light disappears after a few seconds and MC as well*
Solomon: Yup. I'm sure they are in the Celestial Realm right now.
MC: ...
Simeon: ...
MC: *ended up straddling him*
Simeon and MC: *both blushes in embarrassment*
MC: I am sorry!
Simeon: *chuckles* I thought for a second that I had committed a sin.
MC: Come on now. You're calling me a sin?
Simeon: *chuckles again* No. I mean, I have been thinking of you for a while.
MC: *smiles* Sorry for being gone. I got into some sort of... unexplainable event.
Simeon: Oh?
MC: By the way, is Luke here? I'm here to invite you and him to this new world I'm living in.
Simeon: Is it similar to Devildom?
MC: No. It's a bit similar to the human world, except with magicians.
Simeon: Oh. *smiles* We would love to be there.
MC: Great!
*Back to Twisted Wonderland*
Diavolo: Simeon! Luke! I'm so glad to see you again!
Simeon: *chuckles* We're glad to see you too, Diavolo.
Luke: Yeah!
Lucifer: I'm surprised you easily got permission, MC.
MC: What permission?
Lucifer: ...
Simeon: MC snatched Luke in front of Michael. *laughs*
Luke: *giggles* It was fun when the other angels started to chase us!
Lucifer: ...
Lucifer: MC, why you-
MC: It's my parental rights, Lucifer.
Lucifer: ...
Malleus: That is your son, child of man?
MC: Yes! Isn't he adorable?
Luke: *staring at Malleus and wondering if he's a demon*
Malleus: How old is he?
MC: Um. He's ten. Yes. He's ten years old.
Luke: *pouts* MC! I'm over a thousand years old!
Malleus: ...
Malleus: What? You are older than me? *squints his eyes*
MC: Mal, don't. *knows that he's judging his height*
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devildomcuties · 12 days
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Obey Me: Climb into Bed [Dateables]
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🕷 pairing: diavolo, barbatos, simeon, and solomon x gn!reader
🕷 wc: 961
🕷 summary: Unable to sleep, you sneak out of the House of Lamentation
🕷 warnings: making out, pet names (my love, sweetheart, babe, little one, implied smut, oral sex
🕷 a/n: I don't know what to call this line and I'm not fond of calling them side characters, so from here on out they will be dateables and the brothers will be demon brothers :)
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Diavolo 
“Barbatos wouldn’t approve of your late-night shenanigans,” Dia says as he rolls over to see you at his bedroom door. 
“How did you know it was me?” You ask as you shut the door and head towards his bed. Diavolo sits up, moving the covers to welcome you into his bed. 
He’s shirtless, and in the glow of the lamp on the bedside table, you can make out every delicious ridge of his torso. 
“You expect me not to recognize the footsteps of the love of my life?” Dia asks as you strip your pajamas and climb in beside him.
You smile, melting into his side as his arm drapes over your waist. You lock eyes with him, bashful as he looks at you for a few moments in silence. 
Diavolo leans in, capturing your lips with his own. His large hand cups your cheek, and the other moves down to your lower back. Your leg ends up between his thick thighs, moaning as you rock up and down on his thigh. 
“Barbatos is going to kill me tomorrow,” Diavolo whispers in between saccharine kisses. 
“Why’s that?” You respond as his lips kiss their way down your jaw toward your neck. You grip his broad shoulders, cursing when he rolls on top of you between your legs and you feel his hard cock against your thigh. 
“Because we won’t be getting any sleep tonight, my love,” Diavolo grins as he kisses your lips again, moaning your name softly. 
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Barbatos
“You really shouldn’t be in my bedroom this late,” Barbatos’ voice startled you as you shut his bedroom door. 
Across the room, he stands in nothing but a towel as his hair drips slowly onto his shoulders. You follow a drop of water running down his chest until it disappears into his teal bath towel. You gulp, pulsating as you blink, forgetting what he’s said. 
“Sweetheart?” Barbatos takes a few steps toward you while you try not to drool over his perfect physique. He smirks when he catches your gaze, your cheeks flaming hot.
“Yes?” You blink as he cups your face, his thumb tracing your lips. He doesn’t say a word as he kisses you, leading you to his bed where you fall with a gasp. 
Barbatos is on top of you, kissing your neck and helping you out of your pajamas before he drops his towel. His hair is still damp between your fingers when you tug it, pinning his face to your neck as he licks the column of your throat before his teeth sink in. 
“Barb!” You gasp, arching into him as his hands settle onto your hips. Your legs wrap around him as you pant, moaning when he moves lower. 
“I suppose the Young Master shall have a late start to his morning tomorrow,” Barbatos chuckles. “For I will be busy attending to your every need tonight.”
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Simeon
“Baby?” Simeon looks up from his journal when he hears his bedroom door open. 
“Hey,” you wave shyly. 
“You shouldn’t be out so late,” Simeon scolds gently as you approach him. He closes his journal and sets his pen on his desk. 
“I couldn’t sleep. I sent you a message on the D.D.D. but you didn’t respond,” you explain. 
Simeon blushes as he reaches for the device. He was still learning how to use it and knew better than to ignore it when it pinged but inspiration had struck and he’d been writing since after dinner with Luke and Solomon. 
You take Simeon’s hand, leading him to the bed. Simeon takes his shirt off, tossing it onto the desk chair as you lift the covers and slide beneath them. He joins you a second later, pulling you to him. His dark hair falls over his eyes as he leans in to kiss you. 
“Did you miss me, little one?” Simeon teases as he kisses your jaw, cheek, and earlobe. “Couldn’t sleep without me next to you?”
“I wanted you to come to me,” you answer him, your hands running over the broad expanse of his back. “Wanted to feel you, kiss you, devour you.”
Simeon groans, moaning your name as he pulls you on top of him. His hands grip handfuls of your ass, kissing you deeply as you grind down on him. 
“Well, you’re here now and I aim to please,” he whispers before he kisses you again, his fingers unbuttoning your top easily as you grind on him once more. 
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Solomon
“You know, I could have just popped into your bedroom instead?” Solomon smirks as you appear in his bedroom beside his bed. 
You jump, not expecting him to be behind you. 
“I tried sneaking out first but Lucifer caught me,” you sigh as you climb into bed with him. “I had to barter with Satan to get a spell book.”
“Resourceful,” Solomon laughs as he pulls you to him. “Next time just call and I’ll be right over. You know Lucifer won’t be able to keep me from you.”
“But isn’t it more fun to sneak around?” You grin as you kiss Solomon. He moans as you push him onto his back, your legs straddling his hips. His hands find their place on your ass.
“You do love the thrill of danger,” Solomon whispers as you kiss your way down his shirtless body. When you reach his sweatpants, you run your hand over his erection, licking your lips before tugging his sweatpants down with his boxers. 
Solomon curses, eyes shut as you wrap your lips around him. His heart rate spikes, pleasure coursing through him as you take him into your mouth. 
His fingers thread in your hair, moans escaping his pretty lips until he’s nothing but a puddle of lust underneath you.
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©devildomcuties - I do not allow reposts or translations of my work on any platforms.
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s-4pphics · 6 months
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where we meet. (e.w.)
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when ur a monsterfucker n its kinktober lol am i right guys
*silence*
…..
thank u 4 the pointers baby :3 ilysm @elliesbelle
wc;cw: 17.8k, baker!oc, demon!ellie, HEAVY ANGST [mentions underage drinking + alcoholism + drunk driving + car accidents + death], oc’s an eldest daughter… yeah, HORROR? [gore + animal death/mutilation? + vomit + idk scary shit like blood n stuff], SMUT!!!!![HEAVY DUBCON + sexual tension + ellie shape shifts LOL + her tongue is barbed and forked and long like a fruit rollup + blood drinking + fucking outside HAHA + splash of sadism + edging + tentacles WOOO THIS BITCH IS SHAKING THE TABLE!!! + pain kink + spit but venomous + lots of cum/squirting + anal/d!p + err restraint? + oral + crazy size kink + dirty talk + masturbation? + dumbification/mind break + dacryphilia + burning/marking
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“Alright, my love! A dozen red velvet cupcakes, four slices of carrot cake, and ten brownies!” 
You handed two large brown bags filled with desserts over to your favorite regular, Roxanna, “I threw in two complementary cannolis, don’t tell Hattie, please!” You whispered. 
The older woman laughed, turning to depart with the sweet treats, “She ain’t getting a word outta me. Thank you, baby. See you soon.” 
“Have an amazing birthday! Try not to get too rowdy on that yacht, now!”
“Girl, I’m grown! If one of my guests show up without a bottle, they ain’t gettin’ on, point blank!” You both giggled. 
She blew you a kiss and scurried off, the small bell above the door ringing at her exit. You sighed and scurried to the back and into the kitchen, untying your apron and hanging it on the coat rack. 
“Now, Miss Hattie— “
“I know you ain’t tryna disrupt my craft right now. You know better!” The elderly woman had her gray hairs pinned back under her hair net, practically squatting near the counter as she perfected the icing job on the three-layered wedding cake, shrouded in gold and sparkly silver. Your heart grew fonder at the slight tremble in her hands as she piped sprouts of buttercream around the cake topper. 
Hattie, despite her stubbornness, was reason your… fresh start went so smoothly. Meeting her was a blessing in disguise; It was raining when you stumbled upon the old bakery she worked at years ago. You’d just moved as far as you could from your hometown, in desperate need of a job. She turned down your desperate pleads time and time again, that is until you showed up to the shop one last time, drenched in rain, with your homemade red velvet cake. 
She’d nearly cracked you with a broom herself when she saw you standing by the service stand, but you pleaded one last time, and left the foil wrapped dish on the register counter without another word. You’d piqued her interest. Just a smidge. 
You’d received a call from a random number — the owner of the shop— days later, offering you a position at the local bakery. 
As a dishwasher. 
Your victory didn’t last long, however. Turns out your boss was a thieving bastard, cutting all the employee's earnings by a third months after you were hired. You were shocked no one shoved a piping bag up his ass. 
Weeks later, you were out of a job. And so was Hattie. 
… Did she reluctantly ask you for tips on how you made your cake that moist as you two waited for the bus, hairnets still on? Absolutely. And you shared them on the ride back to her small home.
She swiftly became your support, your right-hand man, your newfound comfort only after a few months. You silently thank the universe for her everyday; You couldn’t imagine opening your spot without her with you, making sure to double — triple whatever shit pay her previous boss gave her. 
“C’mon, Roxie just picked up. We needa head out now,” Closing was always a hassle whenever Hattie was in the zone. The extra five minutes she often requested easily turned into an hour if not regulated; Bless her heart. 
She sighed and stretched, “Alright,” Reluctance in her tone. “You’re lucky my grandkids are coming to see me tomorrow!” She set her piping bag down and allowed you to stroll the wedding cake into the walk-in fridge. 
Hattie hardly ever asked for time off; You practically have to shove her out your bakery doors every Thanksgiving, Christmas Eve, New Years! The only request — demand she’s ever made was no work on Halloween. She gave you explicit instructions when you hired her years ago: don’t call my phone during the day of evil! 
Her request threw you for a whirl at first. You assumed she was joking because what seventy-year-old woman still cares about Halloween and its lore? When she hadn’t laughed with you, however, you apologized and offered her three days off for the end of October. Everyone deserves to be with their family, regardless of time of year.
You wished you had someone to call during the cozy Fall. 
You threw yourself into work the second you got the chance. Opening your bakery a year ago was something you’d been working towards since you made your first batch of cupcakes at ten years old. You and your mother baked until your arms burned from kneading years after that, and the hobby swiftly became your down time. Your shop was small and crowded, but your name was printed on the door. 
You never thought you’d be able to own anything after the last decade of being locked up, after the accident you’d caused. 
That horrid day and its repercussions continues to loom over you like a dark cloud no matter where you go, filling your life with trails of dread that refuse to be washed away. You lost your family, some friends, a potential partner, and it was all because of one mindless decision during your reckless and dark teenage years. 
To put it bluntly, you never recovered. Everyday is a struggle, but you’ve managed to distract yourself with work. Your newfound friends hate that they never see you, but you beg them to accept that you're busy whenever you receive an invitation to dinner. 
Sadly, your accomplishments are not companions, and your heart is forever vacant. Nothing — or no one — will change that. 
No matter how many times you’ve tried to reach out to your loved ones, your calls go unanswered. You came to terms with the fact that they’ll always see you as the force that destroyed their unity — the disappointment, ages ago, but your heart still longs for their affection. 
You wake up and hope for their forgiveness everyday. 
“You comin’?”
Miss Hattie’s voice pulled you from your thoughts as you silently walked her to the door, her work bag in hand and ready to go. 
“No, ma’am. Still gotta check the inventory.” 
She sucked her teeth, “I coulda still been decorating— “
“Enough of that! Get on home!” You waved her off with a smile. 
“Uh huh,” She rolled her eyes and left with a nod, “See you next week!” 
You waved goodbye, shutting the door fully and flipping the open sign to close. 
You stretched your arms above your head, your achy shoulders and neck popping with stiffness. All you wanted was a fucking massage. 
You made your way back to the kitchen, clipboard in hand, marking off products that desperately needed refilling. What kind of bakery runs out of sugar? Sugar!
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The bus ride home was nauseating; You need your own car desperately. 
You politely greeted your neighbors as they left the elevator before heading to your floor. The late afternoon sun was blooming through the hallway windows of your building. You unlocked your door, the waft of cool air from the open window in your living room brushing your skin. 
You tossed your bag off your shoulders, and it thudded to the floor, the overworked bones in your arms cracking when you stretched them up at the ceiling. 
The small ball of fur rubbing against your leg rejuvenated you in seconds. 
Your cat meowed happily when you bent down to plant kisses on her head. She followed you into the kitchen as you heated the kettle on the stove, hopping onto the counter to watch you work. 
“You know better. Get down,” your eyes squinted. 
She only tilted her head at you before sitting on the granite completely. You were too tired to move her. 
Whistles erupted from the small hole in the pot minutes later. You filled your mug to the brim with the soothing herbal tea your friends gave you before heading into your bedroom. 
You closed your blinds and undressed completely, plopping onto your blankets, taking sips from your mug as exhaustion and warmth flooded your body. 
The last thing you remember was your cat walking all over your back. 
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THUD, THUD THUD THUDTHUD—
Your body shook awake at the pounding coming from the entrance of your home. Anxiety surged in your gut when the loud knocks against wood came to a sudden halt, only to start up again, even more frantic and aggressive. 
THUDTHUDTHUDTHUD—
You kicked your blankets off and sat up, your sweaty form clinging to the sheets as you searched around your room. Everything was where it was supposed to be, but your door was wide open. You never leave your door open. Did you shut your door when you came home from… 
Where were you before this? 
You called for your cat once, twice, three times, but she never came. Your apartment was always quiet, but this silence… It was weighted, a heavy press on your chest. 
You don’t remember how you got into your living room, but your toes were digging into the soft fluff of your rugs, attempting to sketch into the floor. Even the slightest movement felt like a fight against sludge. Like trekking through the rain in drenched clothes. The knocks didn’t cease, and was synced with the pounding in your ears. 
The walls were breathing. Why couldn’t you breathe? You swore you were going to throw up. 
The painted plaster moved in waves, your door plunging in and out of its frame, back and forth like a pendulum, but you couldn’t see behind it; Your toenails scratched harder into the floor. You couldn’t stop staring at the door. Every nerve in your brain was urging you to run, find a place to hide, but your body wouldn’t allow it. You simply stood, trapped in a cloud of distress. 
The banging stopped and you inhaled, air finally filling your lungs. The feel of fabric beneath your toes was no longer there: something softer than hardwood. Something squishy, something sticky and wet with hair. Your nails tore into it, oddly comforted by the sensation. 
All was quiet again, the familiar steadiness of your home calming your racing heart. 
Until a weak, wheezing exhale came from beneath you; You nearly missed it. Your heart rate skyrocketed when you peered at your feet. 
Your cat’s neck and stomach were sliced open, her small organs pouring out of the large slit in her body. Maggots and spiders were crawling all over her, your feet completely drenched in her blood and your nails plunged deep into her decomposing skin. The insects devouring your nearly dead pet rushed up your legs at an alarming rate, tearing into your thighs like desperate rats fiending for a meal. 
You woke up screaming. 
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“Girl…”
“I don’t know why that happened! I’ve never had a dream like that before!” All the lights were on in your home, your kitty purring in your lap as you stroked her comfortingly. “I know it’s late but can you come over? I’m honestly… freaked out right now.” 
Your good friend, Celeste, exhaled over the line, “… Yeah,” she resigned. “Gimmie ten minutes. I love you. Just… try to relax.” 
You breathed when she told you to, your head bobbing like she could see you, “Okay. I love you too.” 
You almost didn’t want to hang up, but you’d already bothered your friend enough tonight. It’s been a while since you two hung out together; You hope she’s up for a sleepover! 
Your kitty nuzzled your chin affectionately. You hoped she knew you would never hurt her. 
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“I’ve never been so horrified in my life!” You spoke around the sugary spoon in your mouth. “Dreams have never… felt like that for me. I swear, it doesn’t matter how deep my sleep paralysis is! I felt like I was really,” you quickly peered around the room for your kitty, praying she couldn’t hear you. “Stepping on her body! My poor angel.” 
Celeste shoveled more ice cream into her mouth, “Girl, that’s fucking crazy,” she assured, nodding towards your sleeping baby on the table. “Just remember that nothing actually happened. You love her and she loves you.” 
She continued after a heavy sigh. “But you know me. Dreams, nightmares, they’re all from something, and if it felt as real as you say…” Her brow arched at you. What the fuck is she talking about? 
Her eyes rolled in exasperation, “Isn’t your coworker, like… mad superstitious? Queen, but still. The devil’s working, girl.” 
You took a deep breath like she instructed a billion times over since she’s arrived. A smirk grew on her face. 
“Plus… it’s that time of year. ,” she stuck her tongue out and playfully grabbed her tits, “We gettin’ slutty. Gotta show out for Scorpio season. I made my own costume.” 
Your nerves calmed at the reminder of your friends' packed weekend. Since your only true time off was during the spooky season, they always encouraged you to join them in their reckless behavior, especially during your time off. You resigned from partying a long time ago, but did indulge in the lively atmosphere from time to time during the holiday season. 
“You’re right,” you sighed and placed your hands over the resting ones on her chest. 
“Thank you! Take that damn chef hat off!” she scolded. “No more business talk until— “
“Next week, I know,” you mocked, “And I don’t wear chef hats, thanks.” 
“Don’t give a shit about any of that. I’m getting pipe tomorrow night,” Celeste fell back on the sofa, giddily kicking her feet in the air.
A hearty chuckle escaped you. Maybe you’d meet someone too. 
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You were finally able to get some rest— thank god for Celeste — and start organizing your costumes for the… large sum of parties they planned to drag you to. 
You still haven’t completely recovered from your nightmare two nights ago. The vivid imagery that your subconscious conjured up still gives you the ick, but for the sake of your friends, you chose not to bring it up again. You silently thanked the universe when you managed to get a full nine hours the night before. 
Your friends managed to pull you into the Halloween spirit and take you to… Spirit. Despite the void stares from your friends at your costume choices, you settled on the Zelda outfit that’d been on sale at Party City for the past two weeks. Celeste couldn’t stop herself from… cutting your costume up and making it as revealing as possible. She opted to cut off the sleeves, sew the pants into a skirt that hugged your body way too tightly, and did your makeup how she wanted. You didn’t stand a chance against her. 
You despised how hot clubs get; You probably looked like you were melting. 
You stayed as far away from the bar as you could, watching your friends down shot after shot as the night progressed. Your surroundings were crowded and stuffy, the bass of the DJ booth rattling from your feet all the way up to your chest. Your moves were sloppy and disoriented, but Celeste was behind you, grabbing your hips and supporting your weight. 
Your thoughts were hazy and incoherent as your arms waved around to the beat. The music blasting in your ears turned into white noise; The environment completely entranced you, your eyes shutting at the weightlessness of your clammy body. 
The hands behind you were suddenly grabbing tighter, yanking you closer, as you continued to dance. 
You pushed back onto them and their arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you back, yanking you close, your clammy flesh practically melding with theirs. Their scent engulfed you, rich and deep yet distinct. Your arm wrapped around the back of their neck, pulling them down while their hands explored your hips. 
Their lips were on your neck, your head resting on their shoulder. Something hot was stirring in the pit of your stomach the more they swayed you, the arch in your back deepening; You haven’t felt wanted in so long. 
You tried to spin to face them, but they held you still, pressing their chest into your backside. Your breaths picked up when they bit the most sensitive spot on your neck, your toes curling in your heeled boots, your manicured nails nearly chipping in your stockings. 
Their mouth moved higher and higher, right under your ear, the hand coming up to wrap around your throat to hold you still. Your core squeezed as the grip on your neck tightened… and tightened… your airways were closing, and swiftly, the feeling was no longer pleasant. Your eyes snapped open when they didn’t let up, a shocked gasp escaping your dry mouth. The moment was no longer sensual, but straining and forceful. Almost angry. 
Your lust turned to panic instantly, your eyes bulging as your nails dug into their hands, their taut thighs, their wrist, but they didn’t budge. You thrashed and shook with terror. You gasped for air and tried to push them off but it was all for naught. 
Nobody came to help you. Suddenly all the faceless bodies around you were gone, heaps of black smoke pooling at your feet as you wailed for Celeste. The hands and lips were replaced with razor sharp claws and fangs as cold as ice against the side of your face, murmuring voices and screaming chants roaring in your ears. The former body grew monstrous, tripling in size and darkening. 
The sensation of decaying, bloody skin was at your feet once more, fiery red ants and black widows nipping at your skin as the smoke flooded up your body, swallowing your calves, thighs, waist. 
Weak shouts and begs for release went unheard by the force behind you. A faint whisper of your name made you sob harder; You’re going to die, you’re going to die, you’re going to die—
The whisper called your name again. And again. And again, much louder and urgent. Desperate for a response but all you could do was holler for your mother. 
One last shout of your name made you drop to the floor, all the sensations surrounding your body gone. Your crown clanked onto the vibrating hardwood as drunk clubgoers gawked at you in confusion and annoyance, Celeste and your friends staring in concern, reaching to help you up. 
But you couldn’t be touched. Any brush on your skin surged your heart to your throat. You needed to get the fuck out of here. 
Your friends kept yelling about what happened, how they could help, but you couldn’t speak. You swore you were going to vomit. 
You pushed yourself off the hardwood and through the crowd, away from your friends, away from everyone. Your smudged makeup stained your wrists, the shouts of your name going unheard as you shoved passed security and ran into the night. 
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You didn’t sleep at all that night. 
You immediately left the club, hauled a taxi, and ran up into your apartment, double — triple checking to make sure all your doors were locked and windows were closed. You tore your costume off your body and threw it into your garbage before hopping into the shower. You desperately wanted to wash your hair, but you refused to close your eyes. The darkness when you blinked was haunting enough. 
To put it lightly, you were fucking horrified. 
Your body trembled under the steaming water, soft sobs escaping while you scrubbed your skin raw. Especially your shoulder. 
Your phone rang off the hook until the sun rose, your kitty refusing to leave your lap. She never failed to comfort you in your times of need, but you barely rubbed her all night. All you could do is cry and think. 
Your friends pounded on your door multiple times, but you refused to move from your bed. Their frantic knocking was very reminiscent of the pounding in your nightmare. You couldn’t shake how real everything felt: the comfort, the desire, the destress, the pure, unfiltered terror at the imagery of you being eaten alive by darkness. If you could even call it that: imagery. 
Imagery is not enough to describe what you experienced. You were attacked in public, and no one bothered to help you. Nobody… saw anything. 
You’re not fucking crazy. 
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Your friends were sweet enough to stop by the same afternoon with candles and lavender-scented bath bombs after your public breakdown. Their efforts at lifting your spirits didn’t go unnoticed, but your thoughts kept racing, every time you shut your eyes, even for a few seconds. How the hell were you going to explain what you saw that night? 
Despite your friends’ skepticism, you were eventually able to convince them that you felt severely claustrophobic and the lack of air sent you spiraling. 
… It wasn’t a complete lie, at least. 
You were able to get some minuscule hours of sleep after they left before it was time to prepare for your shift. Dark circles were imprinted under your eyes, your skin was dry, and your uniform was not ironed, but you were up and moving. Small victories. 
Your hand was practically glued to your forehead in extreme fatigue, your eyes burning at the brightness of your computer screen as you checked the time. Your emails always boomed during this time of year as people prepared for the holiday season; A good night's sleep seemed even farther away now. 
You swiftly replied to each request with your availability before grabbing your bag and keys, kissing your kitty goodbye, and running down to the bus stop. 
You greeted every familiar face with a polite smile before entering the already packed vehicle, the beginnings of a rising sun beaming through the scratched windows. You plopped onto the only available seat — farthest away from your neighbors — with a heavy exhale, your head falling against its rest. 
This week is going to be so gruesome for orders; You prayed Ms. Hattie was prepared for it. 
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Returning to work was just as draining as you’d assumed. 
Your business line has been ringing off the hook all morning, people asking for dozens of gingerbread cookies and wedding cakes layered to the ceiling. You could make a nest for yourself right on the clean tiles of the kitchen and nap. 
You’ll never know how Ms. Hattie did it: wakes up at five in the morning and moves through decorating like a walk in the park. You can barely lift your arms and it’s only hour three. 
You whipped egg whites and sugar like your life depended on it — it did — with your landline tucked between your shoulder and ear, reciting pick-up addresses and numbers in voicemails. You’re so fucking tired. 
Hattie wasn’t, though. Just quiet. A bit too quiet. 
She hasn’t said much since you’ve arrived. She got to the shop much earlier than expected, politely saying good morning when she caught you standing by the kitchen entrance. She hasn’t acknowledged you since. You tried to get some laughs out of her, but she only half-smiled before silently returning to her work.
You two continued to carefully wrap and deliver dessert-filled boxes like a well fueled machine up until the last minutes before closing. You stretched before grabbing the broom to sweep the entire shop, making your way into the kitchen where Hattie was staring off into nothing. 
“Hey, girl. I can close up, so,” you murmured, wiping the sweat off your brow. 
She seemed to be pulled out of her trance, “Oh, sorry hun,” Her head bobbed. “Are you sure you’re good on your own?” 
“Yes, ma’am,” You paused. “Umm, are you doin’ okay? You seemed… I dunno, quiet, I guess.” 
Hattie nodded, and you took it as an invitation to speak. “Somethin’ you wanna talk about? You didn’t even tell me how your weekend went. How’re the kiddos?” You asked gently, propping your broom against the wall. 
A heavy exhale left her. 
“I… Something was…” she stuttered. 
Another deep inhale. Another lengthy exhale. 
“Something felt different, no?” She whispered. 
Your brows pulled down in confusion. “What d’you mean?” 
“This… this weekend. Wasn’t it different?” 
“Umm…” you pondered. “Not really, no. Why, what’s goin’ on?” 
More silence before she huffed, “… Nothin’. You know how I get this time of year. Sorry, dear.” She turned and snatched her work bag off the counter before departing with a skittish nod, “See ya tomorrow.” 
“W-Wait—“ You tried to stop her, but the kitchen door was already slamming shut, the small ding alarming Hattie’s departure from your shop. 
You allowed your tense shoulders to drop, snagging the broom and heading towards the front of your shop for cleanup. 
That was odd. 
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The front door of your apartment shut and you fell back against it in exhaustion. You desperately needed a massage. 
You stretched before pushing yourself off the door and wobbling over to your cat’s area, refilling her bowl and cleaning her litter box. You clicked your tongue to lure her over to eat. 
You called her name out when she didn’t come. You snagged her filled bowl and shook it, alerting your baby to come and eat. She still didn’t come. You huffed and made your way into your room; She probably took over your softest pillow again.
The bowl in your hand clattered to the floor and your screams nearly shattered your windows. Bile rose in your throat and you heaved at the scene in front of you. 
Your beloved pet was dead. Completely mauled, her blood and organs pouring out of the giant slit that went from her throat to her stomach. Sobs wracked through you at the savage attack. The one source of comfort that you looked forward to seeing every morning and night was gone, snatched away from you in the blink of an eye. You've tried to alleviate your anxiety by suggesting that your nightmares are merely that. Dreams. Creations by your subconscious to try and solve issues that occur in your everyday life. 
But nothing so heinous would ever cross your mind. You would never harm the precious angel who brought you healing in your times of need.  
This wasn’t a coincidence. Someone came into your home while you were away. Someone killed your baby. 
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“We’re sorry, ma’am,” the county deputy sighed, “But there wasn’t any sign of breaking and entering. You stated that everything is where you left it, correct?” 
“Everything wasn’t where I left it,” Anger rushed through you at the officer’s dismissiveness. “My cat was fucking fine before I went to work. I’d never… put her in an environment where she could be harmed,” Tears flooded your eyes. 
“We understand that this was an attack done in your home. What happened here’s definitely not normal, but we won’t be able to solve everything in one night,” He consoled, “We’re getting a team here to investigate. I would suggest packing an overnight bag and staying with family or a friend until we get this situated.” 
Family. You almost broke down. 
When you didn’t respond, he interjected, “We can also find you a room to stay in for a few nights— “
“No, uh, thanks. I got it.” 
You dug in your pocket for your phone and dialed Celeste. He nodded and spun towards his partner who jabbered into a walkie. 
Your friend’s tone blared through the speakers, “Hiii, baby, what’s up! I haven’t heard from you in a minute.” 
Your bottom lip wobbled, “Sorry I didn’t call. Um… can I ask a favor?” 
“Of course you can. What’s the matter? Are you good?” 
The floodgates that’d been building in your eyes overflowed, pouring down your cheeks and onto your work shirt. You wept. 
“Can you come pick me up?” 
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“I just feel like… I feel like I’m going fucking crazy,” you whispered and picked at your fingers, “I know it doesn’t make any sense, but— “
“Nah, it makes perfect sense. You’re fucking psychic. That’s literally the only explanation,” your friend shook her head at you. “You dreamt about something and it happened a couple days after.” 
“None of that shit is real, Celeste.” She sighed in disappointment. 
“It’s not real to you,” she pointed from the other side of the couch. “My grandmomma was a witch—“You huffed and adjusted the blanket draped over your shoulders. 
“But, hey,” she raised her hands in defense. “I can’t make you believe anything. But coming from the most superstitious bitch in town, somebody is trying to tell you something. You’re not freaked out?” 
“Of course I’m freaked out! But I'm not wasting my time thinking about some… fuckin’ ghost— “
“What happened when we were at the club?” 
Your blood went ice cold. You couldn’t stop the pure terror that spread across your face at the mention of that night. You’ve attempted to block… whatever happened out of your memory for the last couple days for your sake, but Celeste read you like a book, and you hated her for it. 
“Exactly. Are you ready to talk about it now?” 
“I… I told you what happened— “
“You lied about what happened. And don’t try to argue,” She leaned closer, eyes comforting. “We tried calling out to you for so long. We thought somebody fucking… laced you, or something, you were so zoned out. We were this close to calling the fucking police.” 
“… What do you mean? I lost y'all in the crowd before I started dancing with somebody— “
Celeste shook her head, “No.” 
Your throat went dry, the blood rushing to your head almost making you faint. 
“We tried to tell you, baby. But we didn’t wanna push you to talk to us about it,” she said gently. “We were with you the entire time.” 
The tightness in your chest wouldn’t subside, shuddering breaths leaving your nose with every denial from Celeste.  
“No one else came up to us,” she whispered, “and no one danced with you.” 
Your head kept shaking in attempts to disprove her claims, in attempts to combat the fear that was attempting to slice you from the inside out, but deep down, you knew she was onto something. 
Celeste’s hold sadly didn’t bring comfort, but she held you close anyway, ensuring that you’re not by yourself, but all you could think about was your mother. The smile she used to give you whenever you succeeded never failed to recharge the dying battery in your back. It’s depressing how little impact her grin has on you in adulthood. 
The dark cloud of your past cascaded over the two of you; If she were here, your best friend would’ve forced you into the passenger side of her father’s pick-up, already halfway across town by now, set to isolate. To escape. 
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“Whoever did this is incredibly strategic,” The tall detective stated with a journal in his hand, “They didn’t leave traces of anything: hair, fingerprints, nothing. It’s almost like they never broke in.” 
You haven’t been able to get any sleep or go to work for the last week, completely isolated inside your friend’s home. When you received a phone call from the detective assigned to your case, you caught the first bus you could and flew back to your apartment complex. You don’t remember the ride. 
Your hope plummeted at his declaration, even with his reassurance, “We’re doing everything we can to find this person. Your safety is our number one priority.”
He gave your shoulder an encouraging squeeze, and it brought you comfort. While you weren’t satisfied with their reports, you could see that he was trying. Was this your first time meeting him? 
He seemed familiar, but you couldn’t place it. 
He stared into your eyes with a gentle grin and continued, “If we should even call them that. They’re a cold-blooded, heartless fiend that needs to be taken out.” 
Your brows furrowed at his sudden determination, but your head bobbed in agreement. Your mind was racing but you couldn’t say anything. Someone killed your baby. Did his grip on you tighten? You couldn’t move. 
“The bastards that get away with such vicious crimes need to be put away forever,” his tone was harsh and sharp, and it made your fingers twitch. Your stomach plummeted when his smile stretched higher, his teeth shin
His other hand landed on your other shoulder. You tried to move back, but you couldn’t, “S-Sir— “
“They need to be hung from the ceiling by their throats and slaughtered like fucking pigs! Like the worthless animals they are! —“
His spit landed on your face at his screams. He hollered about how much he hated killers, how they were scum and deserved to be tortured. How you… 
“You thought we forgot about what you did?” He whimpered; prior menacing smile vanished.
The bearded man in front of you was sobbing, his gaze pinning you against the wall. He didn’t blink and his eyes were bloodshot, his mouth turned downward, the corners of his lips nearly touching his chin. Your eyes frantically traveled over his form, his uniform replaced with pajamas and slippers. 
“YOU’RE A KILLER! YOU’RE A KILLER, YOU’RE A KILLER, YOU’RE A KILLER! —“
Cursed murmurs amplified his pained shouts. Your home was melting away, the walls seeping into the floor before you dropped, the terror weakening your limbs. Your nails dug into the grass and dirt below you, panic electrifying your system. 
The man was gone, but you were outside in the middle of the night, decomposing trees surrounding you. You tried to stand but you couldn’t. You were forced to take in the scene that you wished to never see again. The one scene that your subconscious couldn’t eliminate no matter how hard you tried to forget. 
Your parents' car— wrecked car. The vehicle was completely destroyed, the bumper and windscreen ran into a tree. You screamed and shouted but no noise left, the sinister chants resounding in your ears. The wreckage seemed to move, closer, closer, your eyes locking onto the two bodies inside completely mangled in the accident. 
The two bodies were younger you, thrown over the dashboard and your arm twisted to an alarming degree, blood running down your head and mouth, shards of glass piercing through the skin of your bare legs. 
You couldn’t stop yourself from peering at the body beside you. You hollered for help, cried and begged to wake up, all while staring at your best friend — your soulmate, completely maimed from the waist up. It was just as brutal as you remember: her blood splattered all over the airbag, her limbs shattered and broken, large pieces of glass pierced into her skull. You were sick, you were sick. 
Suddenly, the mantras that attempted to swallow you whole stopped. 
Then there was laughter. Your soulmate’s laughter, but it wasn’t how you remembered. It was darker, hollow, empty. Enraged. 
Everything around you went dark. 
Sobs tear through your throat the second your eyes open, the comforting scent of Celeste’s lavender candles intruding your senses. Your body was drenched in sweat, and you could hear your friend calling out to you, her cold hands on your face, but you couldn’t think. You just screamed. Her attempts of trying to sit you up failed, your fingers hanging onto her sheets for dear life. You were paralyzed with fear. 
Somehow, your biggest regret came to pay you a visit. 
Your instincts finally kick in, pushing Celeste off you and bolting towards her bedroom door. She was calling for you; she even reached out to touch you, but you pushed her harder. 
She screamed for you to stop, and you lost it. 
“Get the fuck away from me! STOP — stop fucking touching me!” you rush out into her living room and towards her front door. 
Shocked plastered across your friend’s face. 
Celeste whispered your name; Why did she sound like her?
“I gotta get the fuck outta here, I can’t,” heave, “I can’t fucking do this, I can’t, I can’t — “
Distraught mumbles fled your tongue on your way out, not bothering to look back at your friend. You heard her sniffling before the door slammed shut, guilt swarming your chest, but it wasn’t enough to overcast the terror ripping you open from the inside out. 
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After vomiting outside of Celeste’s apartment building, — multiple times — you took your leave. As fast as you could. You couldn't say a word to her; She desperately tried to get information out of you, but your throat felt like it would crack open at the slightest whisper. The fear you’d been trying to invalidate crashed into you all at once. 
You fled without your belongings, only slowing when night goers surrounded you in the city. 
Celeste has been worried sick about you this entire time, but you didn’t care. You couldn’t care. 
Your steps were jerky and quick, and you kept scratching at your shoulder. You felt her everywhere. All over you, but it wasn’t comforting. Not like it used to be. 
You walked and walked, your mind racing with moments from your past: the last moments with your best friend. Your kryptonite. The scar in your shoulder was covered in fresh, red lines from your nails. 
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JUNIOR YEAR: 2012
You frantically shoved your books into your locker, anticipating the alarm that sounded for lunch. You can’t wait to get the hell out of here. 
The second it goes off, you're booking it for the door. You hoped Ellie kept her word and brought your birthday present. 
You busied yourself in your small cubby whenever security or teachers walked by, politely greeting them with the most innocent smile you could muster. They didn’t bat an eye, wishing you a happy birthday before turning the corner at the end of the hall. 
You gave them all fake greetings until the loud tone blared through the hallway speakers, students instantly rushing out of their classrooms to head to the cafeteria. You grabbed your now empty backpack and merged with the crowd, trekking for the exit. You managed to scurry through the double doors of the school and bolted towards your parents’ old car, ducking behind the driver's side as you waited for your best friend. 
You texted her a few times but she didn’t respond for minutes. You almost gave up and returned inside the building before two hands pinched your sides from behind. A squeal left your mouth when you whipped around. Ellie snorted at you, her arms wrapping around your neck in a tight hug. You reluctantly hugged her back. 
HAAAPPY BIIIRTHDAAAY TOOO YOUUU—
You shushed her shouts with a smile, Shut up! Someone might hear you.
She kissed your cheek before releasing you, No ones fucking here, relax. Open the door, her head jerked towards the vehicle.
You stealthily unlocked it and the two of you jumped in. You shoved the key into the ignition as Ellie cranked the speakers all the way up, your car rattling with bass as you two exited the parking lot and zoomed down the main street. 
Ellie belted Cherry Waves out the window, bright laughs leaving your throats as you drove to… anywhere. Times like this always bring you joy; You love being around her. 
Ditching class might’ve not been the best birthday celebration, but you were having a ball. 
You drove until you reached the end of town. There was a small campground that you and Ellie found on your first couple drives together, and it swiftly became your little get away spot. You’d spend hours talking, drawing, screaming at the top of your lungs until the sun disappeared and your parents demanded you come home. 
You two raced to your designated spot by the lake, Ellie’s filled backpack slamming onto the sand, glass clattering from the inside. You mischievously eyed it, I think someone owes me a present! 
I don’t owe you shit. I’m a good friend, say thank you, She rolled her eyes. You grabbed her hands and clumsily twirled her. 
Thank you, Ellieee! you nearly ripped her bag apart as you inspected the contents. 
Don’t go too crazy. Remember what happened last time? her smile was light, but you could tell she was scolding you. You snickered. 
Um, yeah. We had a ball. Help me open this, you downplayed, passing her the unopened bottle. 
You know exactly what she’s referring to; You might’ve drank a bit too much at your friend’s birthday dinner. And Christmas party… and when you all went to the fair, but it was all in good fun! You’re young and living life; Ellie’s always a bit dramatic when she comments on your drinking. 
Ellie snatched the bottle and opened it, taking a large swig from it before handing it back. You followed in her lead, taking three large gulps of the liquid, the burn flowing down your throat and into your stomach. Ellie pulled her speaker out of her bag and queued your joint playlist. 
The two of you drank and sang and danced until sunset, your vision blurry and legs wobbly. Ellie was sweet enough to help you back to the car, snagging the keys from your pocket before helping you into the passenger side. You tried to talk to her, but she couldn’t understand. She always looked so cute when you mumbled nonsense, wispy brows pulled down with a light smile. You felt so happy whenever she was around. 
She drove you back home and you threw up all over your front yard. Somehow, she snuck past your parent's room without hassle, ushering you into bed. You couldn’t stop laughing; Her bright smile only made you cackle louder before her hand pressed against your mouth. 
Ellie’s soft palms moved up and down your arm bare, occasionally squeezing your bicep. You couldn’t stop smiling, goosebumps following the drag of her fingertips.
You’re such a dork, she whispered between snickers. 
You love me, you said much louder, but she hummed. The look in her eye was suddenly far away. You nervously nibbled at your bottom lip, your eyes dropping to her mouth. Did her lips always look this soft?
You admired every aspect of her face in silence, your index finger continuing to trace over the bridge of her nose, the apple of her cheeks, down to her chin. Ellie’s a sight. 
Your hazy mind barely noticed the tint on her cheeks, your bedroom dimly lit by the moonlight cascading in from your window. Her eyes were glued to your mouth. 
She inched closer, her moves subtle. You would’ve missed it if she wasn’t right there. 
You don’t know what came over you, but your mouth pressed against hers. Her lips were stiff against yours, and it made you pull away.
She didn’t seem… happy, not how you felt. Her expression was gloomy, her eyes flashing with… everything and nothing at the same time. You locked up instantly. 
You love me, Ellie… right? 
Your tongue felt swollen in your mouth when you slurred. 
Ellie didn’t answer, and you held yourself up on your elbow, your brain alarming your legs to get up and leave. To abandon. 
Ellie… d-do you love me? 
O-Of course I do—
The tremors in her voice sliced through you like a hot blade. Her confirmation was only meant to appease, your drunk brain told you. Ellie doesn’t love you, not like that. Your own parents’ love is conditional; Why wouldn’t hers be?
You were never a rebellious kid. 
Your parents always praised you for being a remarkable role model for your younger siblings: incredible listener, studious, eager to help others. They never failed to highlight, amplify, pressure your good behavior. But their doting smiles disappeared when you failed to meet their expectations. 
The transition from middle to high school was rough for you. Your grades suffered and you were surrounded by other kids you didn’t recognize, and your “star-student” streak vanished in an instant. You’ve never seen your family so disappointed in you. 
You broke your back trying to save your academic status for the next few years. You hardly slept, ate, spent time with your newfound friends, and it was all for your parents. They didn’t acknowledge you until that offer to join the early-college program came in the mail during your sophomore year. When you accepted that you needed to have something to show to get their affection, you spiraled downward. 
You swiftly replaced the emptiness in your heart with a bunch of seniors. They agreed to let you tag along if you could hang, so you did whatever was necessary to gain their companionship: started sneaking out, staying out late, going to parties that you had no business being at. 
Started drinking. 
Just one sip, loosen up! Little did you know that’s all it took to get you hooked. 
The drink was rancid and a gross, murky color. You weren’t enjoying it, so why couldn’t you put the cup down for the rest of the night? You threw back cup after cup until you were unconscious on the front porch of the house. None of your friends bothered to take you inside where it was safe. 
You barely recall being hauled back inside and upstairs, plush pillows under your head as you drifted off. When you woke, you swiftly decided that the pounding in your head and the nausea in your gut was worth it. Last night was the freest you’d ever felt. You almost missed the small sticky note stuck on your arm. Someone gave you their phone number, demanding that you tell them if you made it out alive (i hope so.)
You gained a best friend from that sloppily scratched note. 
Meeting Ellie was a blessing. She was funny, smart and kind. She was so nice to you. None of your old friends treated you like she did. Ellie’s friends were much warmer and welcoming when she introduced you to them for the first time. Every time they had plans, you were invited, no conditions needed. 
Every vacant space in your heart was filled with something brighter. It’s unfortunate that your brain has already mastered its attachment to something more dangerous. 
Ellie… for the billionth fucking time, I don’t have a problem. Can you just let it go? you scoffed from your bed. 
I’ll let it go when you cut it out. You can’t do shit without it anymore, She spat, pointing at the McDonald’s cup filled with Tequila. You grinned nastily and sipped your straw. You were so sick of having this conversation with your friends. With her. 
Yes, I can. I’m fine. See? You sarcastically rubbed all over your body. Another huge gulp. I dunno why y'all are acting like this. I’m not the only one that drinks. 
You’re not fuckin’ fine, first of all! It was fun at first, but you don’t know how to control yourself! You’re scaring everybody off, Her arms flailed as her voice rose. You’re so happy your parents are working. 
You weren’t “scaring everybody off”; You did have some outbursts some time ago, but your friends were still around. They always called you for a fun time, and you were always there to show out. 
Oh my fucking god, you’re so extra, you got up with your cup, grabbing Ellie’s hand and leading her into the bathroom down the hall. You removed the lid and dumped its contents out; You tried to hide the surge of anxiety as you watched it go down the drain. 
See? I can stop whenever I want. 
Then stop, she whispered, sadness in her eyes, No more… okay? 
The emotions flowed through her eyes like water, and it made you uncomfortable. You already wanted a refill, but you nodded to appease her. 
O-Okay, Ellie, I’m sorry, you whispered, and she hugged you so tight. Kissed your clothed shoulder, and it gave you solace, even if it was just temporary. 
But when she left, you were alone, comforted by the temptation of your own thoughts. You broke into your parents’ locked liquor cabinet that same night. 
When you showed up to exam day drunk, Ellie began to pull away. 
She didn’t bother to beg and yell when you were entranced by your vice. You simply saw her less, and your heart cracked whenever your calls went unanswered. 
Abandonment was the worst feeling, even more so when it’s a result of something you’ve done. Your anxiety spiked significantly when you strolled around campus and your friends ignored you, and it only made you drink more when you got home. The acidic pacifier you discovered was turning you into someone unrecognizable. You were failing, and you were alone. You’d wished your siblings were older so you could talk to them. 
Everything came crashing when your parents received an alarmed call from your principal. 
You’d been vomiting in the nurse's office for half an hour, and they ended up calling the ambulance. Your stomach was getting pumped hours later. 
When you regained consciousness, the only thing you could hear were your mother’s hysteric sobs in the hall. 
Summer came along, and you were out of rehab. Withdrawal fucking sucked; It took you almost three weeks to fall asleep in the center. 
You didn’t expect to see Ellie and your friends sitting on your porch when your parents pulled into the driveway, flowers and your favorite candy in hand. Your best friend cried into your shoulder for an hour straight; You refused to let her go as you sobbed into hers. You’d missed hugging her. 
When everyone was seated on your parents' couch, you offered to share the secret to get melty, gooey chocolate chip cookies every time. They couldn’t stop grinning at you; You were finally back to normal. 
Ellie spent the night at your house and hugged you to her chest until you drifted off. 
You accepted that you were a terrible person when all you could think about was a drink. Just one. 
All the promises you made were broken a few months later, crushed into dust by your own hand.  
Everyone you loved hated you. Liquor always forced you to see the truth in people, melted away the fantasy that you created out of self-preservation. It fueled the rage that you desperately tried to keep hidden from your family; You’re so fucking mad, and you can’t remember why. 
Your parents hated you; your siblings hated you, your best friend, the one person you have to confide in, the only thing you had left to love, hated you. Everyone hated you, and it was all your fault. Selfishness was the only way one could be a successor. 
The second Ellie climbed into your parents’ car with that soft look in her eye, fury swallowed you whole. You barely said a word to her, her favorite song cranked to maximum volume. 
Ellie? Your voice was quiet, but you were seething. You don’t remember why. 
Hm? 
D-Do you still care about me? your hands were clenched around the wheel so tightly, you thought it would snap in two. She was suddenly tense in the passenger seat, but she whispered without hesitation. Of course, I do… always. 
But you didn’t believe her. 
Ellie should’ve never agreed to go on a drive with you. 
The way Ellie whipped her head towards you was vicious, her hand slamming onto the volume button of your car to silence the noise. You hated how she knew instantly. 
… Are you fucking drunk right now? 
There it was. All the proof you needed. Confirmation that you were nothing but a disappointment. You hadn’t moved from the stop sign. Self-loathing thrashed from the inside; your teeth are bound to crack like glass with the tightness of your jaw. 
She’d whispered your name with so much disdain. A molten tear eased down your face like magma. This was the same residential area you parallel parked in for your driver’s test. 
Your eyes were glued onto the dimly lit street as Ellie cried and begged for you to stop the car. She admitted to loving you and apologized for everything she said that could’ve hurt your feelings. All you had to do was stop the car and everything would be fine, she said. You pressed the gas so hard; it nearly touched the floor of the vehicle. 
I love you… Please don’t do this… I love you so much… 
Ellie’s last scream was haunting before everything went silent. 
The reality around you never rebuilt itself after that night. 
You were able to convince yourself that the accident didn’t happen for a few weeks. Until your best friend’s burial. According to your parents last voicemail, Ellie’s father wanted to strangle you with his bare hands. You took his life away with one decision. No one contacted you after that. Not your parents, not your siblings, not your friends. 
You were charged and placed in juvenile detention until you were of legal age, and sent off to prison for another six years after that. 
Your habit fed you lies about the people you loved most, and it cost the life of your only constant. The one person who tried to get you to change. The purest form of love you had. 
You killed your soulmate, and you never recovered. 
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PRESENT
You walked until you reached Hattie’s front porch. Your calves were on fire. 
Your tightly clenched fist pounded on the wood with all the strength you had left. You could see the shadows of someone walking around inside, but she didn’t open the door. She probably wanted nothing to do with you after not showing up to work for weeks, but you were desperate. 
“M-Ms. Hattie, please,” you hollered, “I really need t’talk to you! Please, please— “
The door barely creaked open. You expected her to scream and berate you for disrupting her so late in the night, but she was silent. Didn’t utter a word. She only peered through the small crack in the doorway, her eyes bloodshot. Her voice sounded graveled, like she hadn’t slept in days. 
“What the hell are you doin’ here.” 
“Ms. Hattie, I-I’m so sorry. I didn’t know where to go,” You harshly wiped your eyes, “May I please— “
“No, you may not,” her glare sliced through you, sharper than any knife. You bawled. 
“Please, I’m beggin’ you, ma’am— “
“What…” her voice quivered, her gaze breaking away from yours for a split second. 
“What did you do… to that girl?” She whispered like it pained her, and it felt like your chest would concave. 
“… W-What?”
The look on her face was enough for you. 
She knows. She knew. 
“It was you,” tears filled the woman’s eyes, “I had a dream that you… How could you do that… That poor baby…” 
Your head shook in denial. It was an accident, you wanted to scream, I don’t know what came over me! Your eyes squeezed shut and you fell to your knees, thunderous pleads leaving your throat as you begged her to listen. You hunched over and miserably tried to grab at her feet. 
I loved her, I loved her, I loved her! You couldn’t speak. 
“Whatever happens t’you…”
“No, nonono!—“
“I hope God… the universe… whoever the hell,” She spat, “Has mercy on you.” 
You couldn’t stop screaming. Your voice was muffled by the concrete floor. 
“Get the fuck off my porch.” And the door slammed in your face. You heard the locks click, and just like that, your last inkling of hope shunned you. 
You hadn’t realized you’d been screaming for Ellie until you sat up, burning eyes glued to the dark, cloudy sky. 
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The sun rose from behind as you climbed your apartment steps. 
The bundle of police cars and black trucks outside the building were an indication of your case being ongoing, but it brought you no comfort. A constant ache was present in your chest every time you breathed. Murmurs erupted from behind as you dragged your body inside, ignoring the deputies who were urging you off the premises. 
Officers and residents stared at you in confusion, shock, bewilderment the second you hopped off the elevator. Exhaustion was pouring out of you, your under eyes almost black and pajamas wrinkly. You can’t recall the last time you showered. 
The elevator dung, and you made your way down the hall, police tape surrounding your front door. You dodged it and crept in, the sight of the investigators almost sending you into a panic. 
Terror built in your spine as they gawked at you; Ellie’s fucking with you. You’re probably asleep right now. 
“Ma’am?” 
You shakily turned towards the investigator assigned to your case. “Are you alright?” 
No. You nodded, “I came to get some things.” 
Some silence passed before you spoke. 
“I need a place to stay,” your cuticles were scabbing. “As far away from here as possible… if that’s even allowed.” Your living room felt like it was tipping. 
Their brows furrowed, scanning over your ragged appearance, “Um… The farthest we can place you is about a half hour away. We still need to monitor you… Especially now.” You bit the dig with a tilted head. 
You nearly leaped into the air at the sudden, distant ring in your ears. 
“Will y’all still cover m’stay?” The tremor in your hands built with the shrilling pierces in your drums. 
“Yes… Are you sure everyt— “
“I’m fine! I’m fi— I’m fine!” The shrieks overwhelmed you, both hands coming up to cover your ears, your head pounding. Foreign hands were attempting to steady your hunched form, but to no avail. Your body gave out completely, pained wails leaving your dry lips. 
I’m fine, I’m fine I’m fine I’m fine—
You tried. You tried your hardest, but you couldn’t convince anyone — yourself that you were okay. Something’s here. When did the air in your home get so cold?
The softest call of your name frosted the blood in your veins. 
You’re hallucinating; You have to be. Don’t look up. Don’t open your eyes. 
The voice called again, elation enriching her tone. Your head shook in disbelief. 
It can’t be. 
“L-Look at me. I’m here! I'm okay!” 
No, no no no, you told yourself. Sobs wracked through your hunched form. 
“Look at me! I love you!” 
Shoe-covered feet inched towards you, slowly. Almost… cautious. 
“Wake up! Wake up, wake up!” Your whispers were harsh. Urgent. Desperate. 
A comforting hand rubbed your shoulder. You flinched and wailed, frantically pinching the skin of your wrists.  
“NO! No, no, fucking get up— “
“Shhh,” Her hand squeezed you, “It’s me.” 
You’re going to fucking puke. Your eyes stayed shut while she cradled you, your head resting on her shoulder. She felt taller, stronger, but she smelled the same. You couldn’t move, but she hugged you so tight. 
Ellie, Ellie, I love you, I’m sorry— 
A kiss on your shoulder. Right over your scar. 
“I love you more.” 
You calmed in her presence as she rocked you on the floor. Your guilt almost made you push her away, but you’re selfish; You need this, for her to hug you. 
It felt like she held you for years, right on your apartment floor. She didn���t let you go. 
But when your eyes opened, eggshell white hospital walls surrounded you. Kept you trapped in the small hell that Ellie’s created. 
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You haven’t slept or eaten. You’ve barely showered. 
Ellie was with you. Ellie’s with you. You felt her there; She held you! You’re not fucking crazy. 
Three days have passed since you were carried out of your apartment by EMTs, according to the investigators that are still terrorizing your fucking home. They assumed you were having a seizure by how still you were. You were unresponsive for minutes, they’d said. Celeste was right. You didn’t have the courage to face her and apologize. 
You haven’t left your motel room since you’ve arrived. You hate it in here — it looks like it’s eroding from the outside, the windows are scratched and tinted a murky yellow, the sheets feel like sandpaper, but it’s better than home. Better than being in public amidst your impending psychological breakdown. 
Ellie’s here. She’s watching you and laughing at the wreck you’ve become. 
You’re slipping; You can feel it. The way she hugged you… You could’ve melted into her for eternity when she said she loved you, never to be seen or heard from again, completely under her control. Not that anyone would care about your disappearance. A gutted huff left you. 
Your past finally caught up to you. Tears flooded your eyes for the hundredth time tonight. 
The faint shuffling coming from your bathroom didn’t even shock you. She’s here again. 
Your eyes overflowed, and they shut in resignation; You’re going to die. 
“E-Ellie?” 
Silence. 
Your eyes squeezed tighter. You have nothing left to fight for. 
“Just do it! Just fucking do it!” 
That’s all you’ve ever been: a quitter. More shuffling, then silence. 
“FUCKING KILL ME! KI— KILL ME, ELLIE!” 
You heaved and rose from the edge of your bed. You marched down the seemingly endless hallway, heart cracking in your chest. 
“KILL ME! KILL ME, KILLME! —“
Weighted knocks pounded against your room door, shocking you into silence. She’s here, she’s here; She’s fucking with you. 
A dark chuckle left you. 
“You’re fucking sick,” You spat with a sniffle, “I hate your fucking guts, just like you hated me! You fucking hate me, right?” 
You’re awake. And you’re angry. 
You tramped towards the entrance and knocked back just as hard. 
“FUCK YOU, BITCH! FUCKING — FUCK YOU, ELLIE, YOU FUCKI— “
Heat traveled across your face the second you ripped the door open. 
A woman… a motel employee… with sheets in her hand, visibly stunned. 
You’re going fucking crazy. 
“Uhh… just came to give you new, uh, sheets,” Her voice was high-pitched, clearly uncomfortable. Your eyes flickered with embarrassment, cheeks blazing. 
“S-Sorry…” You allowed the shorter woman entry, and she scurried over to the small nightstand in the corner of your room. 
You picked at your fingers, “Um… sorry if I scared you. It’s been a weird… fuckin’ weird couple of weeks.” 
She didn’t acknowledge you at all. Just silently laid the sheets and pillowcases on the side of your bed. 
“Am I,” You huffed, anxiously rubbing your eyes. “Are you gonna report me or somethin’?” 
Silence. 
Your brows furrowed at the sudden stillness of the woman, her back turned towards you. 
“Hey, you okay?” A cautious step forward. “Look, I’m… I know it doesn’t seem like it, but I’m fine— “
“Fuck you.” 
You flinched at her venomous tone; voice filled with spite. The fuck?
“… What?” 
“After all this time…” she whispered, the ponytail in the woman’s head shaking in disbelief. 
“You’re still the same… selfish, psychotic fucking bitch I remember you to be.” 
Your knees buckled at the sudden low timbre of her voice. Goosebumps ran up and down your arms at its familiarity. She sounded just like… She’s… It can’t be. It can’t be, it can’t be—
The one window you cracked for air earlier slammed shut, the clicks from your door signaling your confinement. You’re trapped.
Your nails sunk into your palms; She’s here. She’s real and she’s fucking here and going to kill you. 
Her laugh filled the room, low and vengeful, and the one lit lamp on the nightstand flickered off. 
Your breaths were shallow and desperate, sheer panic rushing through your body. You took blind, scurried steps towards the door, feeling around for the knob to take your leave, but it wouldn’t budge. You pounded on the wood from the inside, screaming for anyone to come save you. 
Something cold and slimy slinked around your ankles and roughly yanked you to the floor, your hands scrambling to grab onto anything on the hardwood as they pulled you towards her. You caught glimpses of her glowing, red eyes with every panicked look over your shoulder. 
You were pulled up, up, up by your feet until you were dangling upside down, her glowing orbs piercing through yours. You barely made out her manic smile, fangs bright and as sharp as knives. Something sharp pressed against your windpipe, ready to tear your throat out. 
The room she trapped you in disappeared completely, an empty, dark void surrounding her, you. There’s nothing anywhere. 
You hollered as your stomach flipped; She’s going to kill you right here—
“Ellie, please, please don’t! —“
A sharp slice right through your shoulder. You released a pained scream before your vision grew cloudy, body growing limp as you swayed in the air. Your screams quieted, your drowsy mind filling with images of Ellie smiling affectionately at you. 
Ellie… Ellie, please… 
Trees danced with the wind before everything went dark. 
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Water erupted from your mouth, your eyes ripping open, fingers tearing into the dirt beneath you. 
You pushed yourself into a sitting position, more water dripping from your hair and clothes, down your bare legs. Pain shot through your shoulder with every move. You reached to touch it and… ouch. Blood coated your fingertips. 
You gazed around. You knew exactly where you were, but it was off. 
You and Ellie’s hideout. The campground is exactly how you remember, but it was darker, murkier, less inviting and cozy. Familiar, yet foreign. 
“Miss me?” 
You jolted, scurrying away from whatever was behind you. 
“Aww, don’t be scared,” Ellie mocked, fake pout pulling at her lips. “C’mooon, it’s just me! Welcome to my humble abode!” 
What the fuck, what the fuck—
The same appendage from earlier wrapped around your leg, yanking you back, and your heart sank. Your eyes were deceiving you; They had to be. 
Ellie, much taller and stronger than you remember, stood over you, pupils pitch black, a devious smile spread across her face, sharp fangs glimmering in the dark. The two horns that swirled atop her head were dark, the protruding veins red and throbbing like they were alive. You saw the sharp edge of her tail glowing behind her head, speckles of red liquid crusting over on the tip. 
Is… Did she cut you with that? 
Your heart squeezed painfully with familiarity; The small spots that dusted her face and the scars that covered her legs from biking accidents were still there. 
“E-Ellie?” 
She posed, arms extended, “In the flesh. Kinda. There’s no… actual flesh for the dead… Well, we technically could have skin, but it wouldn’t be ours.” 
“I’ve been lookin’ for you. You look good,” she muttered, eyes dark as they traveled over you. You suddenly felt exposed. 
Silence passed between the two of you. How was her tone so casual? 
What the fuck is going on… 
She huffed at your silence, “Didn’t think our ten-year anniversary would be this fucking awkward. Can’t even say hi?” 
Her words were hardly registering. 
“Huh.” Her eyes flashed back, and the organ around your leg untangled, retracting into the grass beneath you.
“You’ve… you’ve been looking for me?” 
“Mhmm,” she hummed, carelessly playing with her razor-sharp nails. “You got outta jail, got a place… bought the bakery you always talked about. Congratulations, jailbird! You beat the system… and were able to outrun the devil for some time!” 
She showcased the ashy, decaying scenery like it was a prize. “Here’s your first glimpse into the other side. Is it to your liking? Should I fluff your pending gravestone? Put some roses over it since everyone you love won’t?” 
Other side? “��� Am I dead?” 
“Nope! Almost. You have a purpose before I take you out. Finally, am I right?” Sarcasm sharpened her tongue. 
“… You're insane,” your voice was hoarse, shattered. You swore your esophagus was bloody. 
“Me?!” She snickered sickly, eyes darkening, “Remind me what happened between us again? Who hurt who? Who killed who?!” 
“… I— “
You paused. What the fuck do you say to her? I still love you somehow. Please don’t hate me forever. I’m a worthless fuck up—
“None of the above,” she interrupted… your thoughts? “To be frank, I don’t wanna hear shit from you,” she swayed sassily, circling you like a shark, her tail sashaying around.
“… Why’m I here then?” 
She paused, the muscles in her back flexing. Your gut tumbled. 
Ellie turned to face you, lips curling devilishly. 
“Well… ” she trailed off, voice alluring. “It gets lonely down here. I don’t have anybody to call. Nights are so cold.” 
She suddenly dropped to her knees, sensuality practically leaking out of her as she crawled towards you. Your heart was thumping, stomach in knots. 
“I need you… to do exactly what I tell you…” 
Your breaths shuddered the closer she got.
“I’m so fuckin’ hungry… Just sit there and let me take what I want,” Her mumbles were drunk and lustful. “You fucking owe me. I’m trapped here ‘cause of you.” 
She straddled your lap, eyes glued to yours. They flashed red, and an appendage locked around your throat, knocking the wind from your lungs and pulling you flat onto the dirt. You tried to pull against it, but it tightened on your airways. You choked, pain searing in your shoulder, causing you to let up. Another set of slimy appendages clasped around your wrists, followed swiftly by two locking down your ankles. 
The burn from your bleeding shoulder made your nipples harden under your filthy sweatshirt. She chuckled above you. 
“That was quick,” Her brow arched. “Haven’t gotten any? What, no one wants to drill a felon?” She cooed with a pout. 
You shot her a glare. A squeeze on your throat. A clench from your walls. 
“Oh!” She exclaimed in remembrance. “Sorry about that club fiasco. I was gonna fuck you then, but seeing you enjoying yourself got on my nerves, so.” 
She rambled on about how she made a whole plan to ruin your life the second she found you until you were rotting in the grave, but you weren’t listening. Your eyes moved over her lips, down her neck, over her bare chest, blood burning under your skin. Another squeeze from your cunt. Your face burned with every drop of slick that left you. 
“Think I’m cute? The horns doing it for ya?” she interrupted your gawking. 
You averted your gaze. She snorted before her expression went lubricious, eyes glossing over.  
“You smell so good,” she slurred with fluttery lids. 
No, you don’t. You haven’t showered—
“I meant your pussy, you fucking idiot,” her eyes rolled in annoyance. “You’re killin’ my vibe. Shut up.” 
Your eyes widened in shock; Don’t think, don’t think—
“She smelled like that in the club. Just needed some lovin’, hm?” Her hand reached back to pat your pussy over your pajama shorts and you squealed. You’re leaking. 
“Oh, she’s starving— “
Fear and arousal flurried in your tummy, “What’re you gonna do?” 
You could almost see the wires in her head sparking to life. She leaned over you, her cold body pressed against yours, noses almost touching. 
“I’m gonna rip that pussy open until I feel better…” The aura around her was smokey and blinding. “And then…” Her nose bumped against yours, almost affectionately. “I’m gonna rip that fucking throat out. Might hang your body from a tree. I needa decorate.” 
A choked sob left you, thighs rubbing together as tears plummeted down your temples. Ellie shushed you gently, her forked tongue licking over the droplets before they cascaded down into the grass. 
Every swipe of her tongue sent a zap through your face. The sting sent your jolt through your spine, hips bucking into her. A hot, slick line ran up your cheek, grazing your jawline, cat-like spines digging into your clammy skin. 
… Is… Is she really…?
You couldn’t stop the shudder that ran up your body, your foot jerking outward at the sensation. The tentacle clenched around your ankles, and you gasped. Ellie was grinding on top of you, whimpering into your neck, marking your skin. 
“E-Ellie, El— “
Another swipe, a thick, sticky trail burning its way into your hairline. Your whines are almost inaudible. Pain is burning up your legs when the organ twisted tighter; You’re shocked your ankle didn’t snap in two. 
She moved faster on top of you, pleasantly sighing into your neck. Your face is fucking sizzling. 
“What the… fuck,” The situation is settling in for you: Ellie’s dead… but, not? And she’s humping you like a dog. You shouldn’t want to watch her, observe the love of your life get off on your fucking stomach, but you — your pussy wants it — needs her. 
You missed her so fucking much. 
Soft chuckles erupted from her, icy breath on your neck. She sat up, rubbing her bare cunt on your tummy. 
“You wanna watch?” 
No, no no please—
Your head shook, mind racing with pleads for her to touch you, but she stared back in disapproval. 
“I think you wanna watch,” She sat up, lifting her knees and resting her freezing hands on your thighs, her pretty pussy on full display, “Missed me that bad?” 
She’s right there, but you can’t move. More tears, more begging from you. 
“Wanna see a trick I learned?” She inquired mischievously. You didn’t have a chance to answer before more vine-like organs emerged from the dirt, eager and throbbing, globs of slick dribbling from their tips.
“When you’re sad and horny, answers will eventually fall in your lap,” She watched the appendages sliver all over her shoulders, her back, down her stomach. Her head flew back, her short flyways waving around her horns. 
“I bet that fucked up head of yours never expected this would happen, huh? Never thought you’d see me like this?” She moaned out as the suctioned limb traveled over her left nipples, her eyes beaming red, scorching through your chest. 
Your walls squeezed down on nothing, desperate groans leaving your throat, underwear clinging to your cunt. You couldn’t close your legs, the members slinked around coming up to suck on your thighs. 
Nasty little cuck, her voice boomed through your skull, Wanna watch me get fucked, right?
Your head bobbed dumbly. The appendages scurried down her body. You watched as the veins in her horns glowed brighter, her eyes shading an even deeper scarlet, her lip catching between her teeth when the suctions came in contact with her clit. 
The slippery members attacked your thighs with strong suctions, the sensitive skin littered with blotchy, dark spots. A wet slither made its way up your body, under your sweatshirt and in between your tits. The tip teased both nipples, your back arching deeper for more friction. The air was muggy and your body was disgustingly sticky; The sensations made your clit jerk. 
You blearily stared up at Ellie, nearly cumming at the sight of her with a thick, throbbing appendage fucking into her pussy, another two attacking her nipples. Her walls were stretched around the dark, pulsing tentacle, her juices filling the open air with sopping squelches. 
Her eyes fluttered open and refocused on you, a dark line of drool dripping from her mouth and landing on your exposed torso. You released a pained shout, your skin burning at the contact. Tension built tight in your core, clit throbbing in your underwear. You’re struggling to breathe, head floating further into the clouds with each whimper from Ellie. She giggled hazily, moans sounding between her condescending snickers. She gathered spit in her mouth and allowed it dribble onto one of your breasts. 
S’hitting it s’good! Fuck, I can’t—
Finally, finally, the tentacles choking your legs unraveled and crawled up, closer to your drenched cunt. Just one touch — you need one touch and you’ll cum. Just one, just one, please, please—
Slut needs t’cum? Beg some fuckin’ more, c’mon, Ellie’s moans and shouts in your head were somehow bringing you closer to that peak you desperately craved. 
“Please, El, please, fuck… me— “
“I’m — oh, fuck, yes— “
Your shorts and underwear were being ripped from around your waist, yanking you in all directions. The friction made your walls constrict tight. The harsh suctions on your clit were instantaneous. Finally, finally, finally—
You and Ellie’s moans melted together, colors floating behind your eyelids. The wet sounds from Ellie’s pussy made your peak build in record time, zoning in on her cries. You’re going to cum so hard. It’s almost there, just a little bit more— 
Ellie’s everywhere. In your head, line of blurry vision, on top of you, about to break and shatter. She's so perfect, shrouded in darkness and gloom and desire.
The tentacle suddenly expanded inside her pussy, stretching it wider, massaging all the spots that made her see white. 
“M’gonna fucking cum, s’gonna make me cum— “
You’re so close, you’re close, you’re close. You wordlessly begged her to cum with you. Her knees trembled while her legs begged to close, but she forced them open. Forced herself to take everything, all of it. The tentacle pulsed sporadically inside her, and she crashed. 
Pleasure was snatched away from you in an instant, the suckles on your clit gone. You cried and sobbed for Ellie to make you cum, but she ignored you, her body wracking in pleasure, heavy globs of black slick dribbling from her cunt, right under your tits. 
She rode it out, bouncing on the large appendage before it shrunk to its original size. It jerked inside her a few more times before leaving her completely, more dark, gooey liquid dripping from her pussy. 
She came down slowly, giddy laughs leaving her swollen lips as her walls rippled from the aftershocks. 
“This is gonna be…” she scooped up some of the substance with her razor-like nails before shoving them into your mouth. 
The peculiar twang coated your tastebuds. She continued. 
“So much fun.” 
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You never thought you’d have the chance to kiss Ellie again. 
But you are, and you’re so fucking nervous. 
When you kissed her for the first time, you were confident, impulsive, reckless. Your regret didn’t come until after, but now here you two were, her split tongue messily sliding over yours, your tongue sizzling from the venom coating her mouth. Ellie’s mess seeped into your skin with each jerk of her hips. You’d give anything to touch her. 
Your eyes squeezed shut every time she suckled on your lips, licked up your chin, squeezed her hand over your throat. She’s much more secure this time around; It’s almost enough to get you there. 
Almost. 
You were suddenly yanked back by your hair, head thudding the ground. Ellie seemed deep in thought, eyes distant. 
“You’re a bad kisser.” 
Your lip quivered. Ouch, “S… Sorry…”
“Ellie?” Your throat burned. 
“Yes, dear?”
Her tone made you flinch. Everything you wanted to say left your brain in a cloud of smoke. 
“Am… Am I…?”
“Are youuu…?” She trailed off. Her hand disappeared, lower, before a loud, sticky noise blaring in your head. She sighed happily; Ellie’s touching herself. Right in front of your face. 
Your face is on fire and your shoulders are cramping up. 
“Will… Can I, can I cum?” 
“I don’t know… can you?” She shrugged with a smile. 
Your eyes nearly rolled in annoyance; they would’ve if you weren’t so desperate to be fucked senseless. 
She sat up fully, her wet hand reaching right in between your legs. They nearly clamped shut on her wrist, but more tentacles appeared to hold them open for her. She wasn’t looking at your pussy, but she knew exactly where to touch you. She rubbed her own juices into your clit, a nasty shhlck filling the calm air. 
Tears built in your eyes at the sensitivity, your toes digging into the dirt beneath you. Her thoughtless mumbles were barely registering in your melting brain. Your impending orgasm nearly crashed into you before she stopped. 
Your body tensed and your pleasure dissipated. Sobs left your mouth as you garbled, “E—llie, please, please, no more— “
“Don’t close your legs, I mean it. Take what I give you like a good bitch,” Ellie shimmied down your body, resting in between your legs. The tentacles hooked under your knees and forced them up, holding them right against your chest. You can’t see what Ellie’s doing and she’s silent. 
You wanted to ask what was taking so fucking long—
A loud crack rang through the heavily wooded area, pain searing through your thigh. The stinging sensation brought tears to your eyes, sobbing softly to yourself. 
The sudden flicking against your clit brought tears to your eyes. She’s touching you, finally. Your arms pulled at the veiny tentacles still clamped around your wrist, aches running down to your shoulders at the stiffness. 
Ellie’s fingers were replaced with something much softer, and your body turned to mush. The appendages around your thighs twisted tighter, gripped harder, as the barbs from her tongue caught on your clit. It felt so fucking good; her split muscle moved so quick on your clit; your yelps of her name sound into the crisp air. You’ve been on the verge of cumming this entire time, but you can’t.
Suddenly, her tongue is easing downward, brushing against your perineum. Your hips tried to push down into her muscle, but to no avail. You could feel numbness building in your feet from the restriction. 
Look at this tight little ass, two of her fingers were massaging your other hole, causing you to whimper. 
Yeah? she pressed down harder, Like it right there?
Your head gravely bobbed in approval; you’ve never been touched there, but you crave it now. 
Tiny fucking hole… gotta get you ready, huh?
Her voice is thick and haughty; you’re shivering. 
A glob of spit lands on your ass, the sensitive skin tingling, numbness spreading across the pulsing area. She rubbed it in quickly and gave your hole one last slap. 
Her tongue was back at your cunt; you squealed at the sensation of her tongue slivering past your entrance, walls stretching over her muscle. The soft splinters massaged your walls just right, caressing all the spots inside you and you felt it building — 
Suddenly, her tongue stretched wider, expanded, pressed down on your walls, right on your spot; you were squirting on her tongue seconds later. You couldn’t warn her of your orgasm before you bursted, walls desperately milking her as satisfied shouts escaped your lips, your brain turning to goo. 
“El — mmh! Fuck, yes, rightthere! —“
Sniveled thank yous were pouring from your lips as Ellie fucked into you, your juices coating her face. Bursts of color exploded behind your eyelids. 
You thought you would never come down, but the intensity of your orgasm slowed, eyes slowly blinking open. Your vision was spotty; Ellie slowly pulled out, humming at the squeals that left you. You couldn’t move. 
Suddenly all the tentacles were gone, limbs free and weightlessly plopping onto the ground. Your eyelids fell shut in exhaustion, your heart flooding with longing.
“The fuck do you think you’re doing?” A light kick on your shoulder. 
Ellie… 
“Get the fuck up. I’m not done,” she snorted coldly. 
Ellie… please…
“What the fuck did I say,” The agitation in her tone rose. 
I’m so sorry… 
“I don’t care,” You were suddenly pushed onto your back, Ellie standing over you, eyes glowing dimly. 
I miss you so much… 
Memories of your past flowed through you, soft sobs shaking your weak form. Ellie deserved… everything good out of life. The purest forms of happiness were destined in her path, and you took it away. You took everything from her, and all you could do was watch what she’s become. What you caused. 
The more you cried, the more disgusted she seemed, eyes growing darker. 
She pounced on you in seconds, nails grasping your bunched sweatshirt and sharp tail tip prepped to end you right then and there, speckles of spit splattering on your face due to her shouts. 
“DON'T!” The dying world around you shook with the bass of her tone. “Don’t you fucking dare!” 
You didn’t fight. You allowed her to berate you, call you every vile name in the book, and digested her wishes of you dying instead of her. Every scream slammed into your chest; you merely laid there, ready to die with love in your chest. 
I love you… I love you… I love you… 
“FUCK YOU, YOU LYING BITCH! FUCK YOU! YOU FUCKING DID THIS TO ME! I’M GONNA KILL YOU— “
Bloody streams fall from Ellie’s eyes, the veins in her head changing from maroon to coal, the veins in her arms darkening as her voice deepened, razorous teeth baring. She sobbed and screamed from above you, wailing how much she hated you. You’re numb. 
The venom from her tail was discharging from the tip. It’s time; it’s your last day alive. You nodded to yourself. You deserve this; You’re ready. You hope your siblings aren’t too saddened by your disappearance. 
Is this the final stage of grief? Your body is lax and accepting, heavy droplets leaving your eyes when they shut. 
I love you… I’m sorry… I love you… 
Another sharp prick went through your shoulder, and darkness enclosed around you. 
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JUNIOR YEAR: 2012
You’re such a dork!
Ellie swears her heart is going to grow legs and crawl up her throat in the next thirty seconds if you keep staring at her like that. She's projecting; She’s the dork!
The few shots she took at the lake were wearing off, and her nerves were finally catching up to her. She was surrounded by your pillows, your stuffies, your scent; she could barely swallow, her throat was so dry. 
You love me. 
She does. Ellie never acted on her swiftly developed crush; she’s not built for rejection, especially from you. The smile on your face was so bright; your joy was so apparent whenever she was around. She hoped her own happiness reflected the same way; Please love me back! Please please please—
Her heart exploded, sewed itself back together, only to explode again when your hand came up, fingertips barely grazing her cheek. She’s going to faint; your touch was so soft. Was she crazy to compare the feel of your hands to rose petals? She tried to keep her nuzzles subtle, pushing her face closer to your hand; Is this how cats feel when they want cuddles? 
You proceeded to explore her face in silent adoration, and she did the same, memorizing every detail she could. The moles on your face were lined like stars. 
She scooted closer to give you more access to her now burning skin, and you kissed her. Ellie was stunned, body stiff; she didn’t have a chance to kiss you back before you pulled away. The scent of alcohol was pouring from you, and Ellie snapped back to reality. 
You’re drunk. You kissed her and you’re drunk. 
You’re probably not going to remember the entire night when you wake the next morning. Ellie’s eyes nervously searched your now downcast face. Say something, you coward! 
But you spoke first. 
You love me, right? 
More than anything, Ellie wanted to scream, not caring if your parents woke up and kicked her out. But she couldn’t. Her brain was moving a million miles a minute, trying to find the words that would satisfy her feelings, but they were too strong. She’s in too deep; Words aren’t enough. 
But you look broken and your body’s tense. She’s putting you on edge and she hates herself for it. 
Do you love me? Your begging tone snapped her out of her head. 
Of course I do, she gasped, mouth gaping like a fish. 
More than anything! More than anything! I love you! 
You only nodded, relaxed back into her, and shut your eyes. 
Ellie went to sleep with a terrible feeling in her stomach, but she held you anyway. 
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Ellie’s weight crushed you as she sobbed into your neck, her cries loud and guttural, the sharp puncture of her horn pressing into the plush of your cheek. Her curses grew weak and quiet, mumbles of I fucking hate you cementing into your skin. 
You simply laid beneath her, unmoving and stunned wordless at the memory — the truth that Ellie exposed to you. Her body jerked on yours as she wailed. 
You hardly noticed the fresh tears rolling down your face. You sniffed, “Ellie…”
She sobbed, her head shaking dismissively. 
“Ellie… Look at me…” You couldn’t move. 
“Fuck you,” her choked murmur was hushed. 
A sad smile grew on your face. 
“Almost did…” 
Ellie sniffed harshly against the burnt skin on your neck, almost touching your bloody shoulder, “What.” She mumbled flatly. 
“Y’know… you almost did fuck me.” 
Some silence passed before a wet snort came from below you. Your grin widened. 
Ellie’s shoulders shook slightly as she snickered into your neck, arching hers slightly to look at you. 
“I should kill you for that, you cunt. You’re not funny.” 
Your body jerked with laughter, and you grimaced at the pain in your shoulder. “That's what you get.” Ellie sat up straight, smile slowly dissipating, eyes glossing over. 
The light moment between you shifted, and sorrow weighed you down like bricks. 
“I fucking loved you,” Ellie whispered harshly. “I wanted you to be happy. And you didn’t fucking care.” Anger was radiating off her, but the dread in her eyes was more telling. “You were… everything to me.” 
The wounds in your heart were overflowing; your efforts of repairing your heart were proved pointless, blood and love and suffering filling your chest to the brim. Quiet sobs were shared between the two of you.
“Please k-kiss me,” Ellie’s eyes squeezed shut at your hushed proposal. 
“Just one more. You can do whatever you want… just one last time.” 
You sat up slowly, ignoring the deep aches in your side, your trembling hands cautiously raising to cup Ellie’s frosty cheeks. 
Her face is so close; her lips are right there… just one more, just one—
Ellie’s eyes traveled across your face, lust and years of longing flooding in her tears. Her eyes shut and she leaned forward, her cold lips melding against yours. The kiss was gentle, your eyes squeezing shut as you cried, your tears transferring onto her cheeks. 
Ellie’s hushed tone filled your head. 
I wish I hated you. 
You choked a sob, arms wrapping around her hips to pull her closer, her arms enclosing around your neck, the kiss growing hotter. You needed her closer; so much closer. 
Her tongue slid past your mouth, the split muscle messily flicking over yours as her hips bucked down. You heard loud tears of cloth coming from behind you as Ellie shredded your sweatshirt with her claws, discarding the fabric on the dark heaps of grass. 
She sighed into your mouth when you laid her back onto the grass soaking, crawling on top of her. Her legs wrapped around your waist, pulling you down to reconnect your mouths, her fangs cutting into your bottom lip. She sucked the injured skin, humming at the metallic taste; your hips bucked down harder to meet hers, and she whimpered. 
Her hands were freezing as they slid down your bare sides, claws pressing into your hips. You could feel your heart pounding in your throat as you kissed down her neck, soft noises of satisfaction erupting from beneath you. You suckled on her throat, tongue sliding down to her jaw and back up again.
“Can I, fuck, let me do something— “
You moaned in approval, thighs shaking at the sound of her voice, coming back up to press your mouth against hers. 
A heavy gasp left you at the feel of slime dripping onto your thigh. Ellie dug her nails into your hips to steady you, and you whined at the sting. You stared down, entranced at her gleaming eyes, bottom lip trapped between her teeth. 
“Hold still.” Ellie’s whisper was strangely comforting, your body relaxing into hers. The light suck on your thigh made you squeak, chuckles releasing from the girl beneath you. 
“And you’ve been doing this for how long?” you jokingly snarked, voice shaky. 
“Meh, six years, nothing crazy,” she replied, shrugging sarcastically. “Just don’t move.” 
Ellie’s hand moved lower, pressing at the end of your spine to deepen the arch in your back. She shushed your eager whimpers, slowly easing your hips back until your cunt brushed against the serpent-like organ. You shuddered and attempted to jerk away at the strange sensation, but Ellie held you still, snorting to herself. 
A sharp gasp escaped your lips at the feel of its tip swirling at your clit, your head dropping onto Ellie’s shoulder. It took mere seconds for the suction to attack your sensitive clit, pleasured moans huffing from your mouth. Ellie’s mouth was right by your ear, her chilled breaths sending shockwaves down your spine. Your clit throbbed under the pressure: how were you already on the verge of cumming? 
“Feels g-good? Yeah?” 
Your walls were squeezing down harshly, desperate to hug and milk something hot through your orgasm. It takes all your strength to lift your head and kiss Ellie, but she does all the work; licking into your mouth, sucking on your tongue, bruising your lips with every slice of her fang. Every pass of her tongue is a pull in your gut, your clit pulsating with vigor. 
She pulled back, just barely, to whisper how excited she is to fuck you, to turn your pussy out, to make you cry.  Your moans were loud and eager, your head bobbing dumbly in compliance with anything she wanted. You’d give her everything you could in this moment. 
Ellie’s in your head, in your senses, in between your thighs, and you’re losing it. She’s reaching at you, tugging at your body in any way she could: scratching at your tits, pulling your hair, clawing into your skin with intent to scar. You’re sure your back is bloody. Her touch is painful; why does it feel so good? 
Your thoughtless head drops yet again as your orgasm is forced out of you, your walls choking the hot air surrounding the two of you. Your wails are muffled along with Ellie’s spat praises, your hips bucking back for more. The pleasure is almost too much and you’ve barely started; She hasn’t even fucked you yet. 
Your juices are pooling out of you, knowingly making a puddle on Ellie’s tummy, her affirmed moans pulling more and more out of you. Your peak is unrelenting, draining every last bit of energy your body has left. Your limbs gave out, your weight crashing on top of Ellie’s. 
She hastily maneuvered you onto your back, the spines of grass puncturing your skin from beneath you as she climbed on top. 
“Your stamina’s fucked.” 
Her winded snide remarks didn’t bother you; you need her to fuck you. You’re sweaty and desperate to feel her everywhere. She wasted no time, reuniting your mouths in an eager kiss as her hands ventured anywhere they could. Your body’s aching, but for some reason, you crave more. More hurt, more pain; You need her to use you. 
The world around you moved like water; unlike your first dream, the waves brought comfort. Ellie’s touch felt like the ocean washing you away, all with effort to finally bring you peace. 
But it didn’t work. You love her; You deserve pain, and you love her. 
Her mouth is on your tits, biting and sucking at your nipples. It feels so good to have her this close; your body’s wet and ready for her to ravish you. 
Ellie scurried down your body, sat on her knees in between your legs, her hands pressed under yours to hold them up. Your thighs are resting on your chest as Ellie dribbles a line of slobber over your soaking lips. Hums fill the space between you as it slides down, right over your entrance. 
Seconds pass as Ellie stares at your cunt; You call out to her by mistake. 
“What.” 
Fuck. “No-nothing. Sorry.”
“You want something. Say it.” 
You shake your head, and she smiles. Raunchy imagery of her fucking your pussy flash across your mind in an instant, and her grin widens. 
You jolt at the sudden slap on your cunt before Ellie presses your legs even higher, knees almost next to your head. You ignore the aching stretch in your limbs and reach to grab your ass cheeks, holding them open for her. Heat spreads across your face when she moans at the sight. 
Oh fuck, Ellie’s whimpering to herself; whining about how good your pussy’s going to feel, how you’re going to swallow her whole, choke her out. Juices are oozing from your cunt with each jerk of your walls. 
A tentacle emerges from the ground, and Ellie’s expression darkens. It’s lecherous; the way she eyes your pussy as the organ slivers closer to your entrance. You couldn’t hold your moans in anticipation of the stretch. It’s right there, swelling and twitching. 
Your head falls back against the sopping grass when your hole grasps the wide, leaking tip, eyes rolling into your head as Ellie’s moans ring deep in your skull. The tentacle is practically melting between your walls as they spasm. 
Ellie’s so loud above you, completely hunched over your form as her body shudders, her lip trapped between her sharp teeth. They must’ve pierced the skin, a thin trail of black liquid dripping all the way down her neck. 
You take it so fuckin’ good, Ellie’s slurring, tongue swelled in her mouth. You’re already peaking, your legs attempting to slam shut at the tight hug of your walls. The organ is suddenly swelling, walls stretching around the girth to trap it as deep as it can go. Tears are running down your face, groans of Ellie’s name melding with your harsh breaths. 
Seconds pass, and the tentacle’s shooting inside, and your head goes blank, your orgasm slamming into you. You're silent as it wrings your body. The intensity is almost painful, like it’s being forced from your body and your cunt’s drained dry: it’s hot inside you where the fluid pools, and your walls are sucking it deeper. 
You didn’t register Ellie falling forward, her body convulsing on yours, screams of how good your cunt is leaving her in a flurry. Her words are gritted and deep and her nails are in your bicep, but the pain only makes you cum harder. 
It’s been minutes, and you’re deadweight, walls twitching around the still jerking organ planted deep inside your guts. No time to recover, though; Ellie’s pulling out, a nasty sound echoing at her departure as cum seeps — drenches the grass under you. It’s never-ending and sticky and you need more. 
Ellie’s already up and moving you onto your stomach, your cheek pressed against the dirt. She’s hasty, spitting on your cunt with a fiery just a dumb slut, huh? You nod, squeezing your walls to push more cum out. There are heavy suctions on your back, forcing blood to the surface at the curve of your spine. Followed by a sharp stabbing on your ass cheek. 
Ellie’s mouth is on your supple skin, and the blood in your ass rushes to the surface. Her fangs are locked into you as she empties the veins in your ass. 
You couldn’t even scream, eyes squeezing shut at the searing pain as your walls release more cum. Ellie hums: another bite. More blood’s leaving you, being sucked from your ass, your thighs, the end of your spine, but it’s not enough. You need more. Ellie’s draining you but it’s not nearly enough. 
Another tentacle presses in once more, and your vision’s blurring; there’s another tentacle sucking at your ass, your eyes crossing at the stimulation of both your holes. Ellie’s nails are breaking the skin of your back, dribbles of blood sliding down your sides and into the dirt. You love her and you love it; everything feels so warm and full and good. 
Ellie’s chides are making you wetter; your thighs won’t stop shaking, she sounds so sexy. Every shockwave in your brain is memorizing every word, every syllable. She's babbling about how she might spare, keep you trapped here forever so she can drain your blood through your pussy, suck you dry, and it gets you there again. 
Ellie — m’cu—cumming!
You don’t know what you’re saying; voice muffled against the dirt, tears and snot running down your face while you squeal like a pig. Ellie’s calling you one as you squirt on her, just a dumb, worthless pocketpussy; The smile on your face is stupid as your walls drain her while she throbs inside you. You’re so stuffed with her cum already, but you need more inside you. You feel so fucking good and the pleasure won’t seize. 
It picks up again as the thrusts get faster, hitting you deeper, just where you need it. You don’t get to recover before you’re slung into another mind-numbing orgasm, your body wracking without rest. Ellie’s massaging every spot that makes your spine break, dirt collecting under your nails as they puncture the ground. Your groans are cracking in your throat; You can’t even swallow. 
The tentacle’s swelling again, and Ellie’s hand is on the back of your head, pressing your cheek against the grass, nails scratching at your scalp as you beg for her cum. Her moans are picking up again, demanding that you beg some more, that you fucking cry for it, be a good girl a bleed for me. And you do. 
As messily as you can; slobber pooling at your mouth as you sob and choke for her cum, eyes crossed in your skull as your tongue lolls, and Ellie’s shooting in you again, stuffing you to the brim as she cries your name from behind, grunts leaving her with each rope of cum seeps in your womb. 
Your pussy’s melting around her when the sucking at your ass pauses, only to push in the incredibly tight space, to stretch your virgin hole open around its girth. It should hurt, having both holes filled to such a wild degree, but it doesn’t. Your weak arm is reaching behind, desperately grabbing at Ellie. You expect her to smack you away, to hit you, to slice your hand clean off your wrist, but she doesn’t; You almost miss the light touch, her pinky lacing with yours. 
You’re joyous, head dropping as you sob from pleasure and happiness, heart filled with a love that you never thought you’d feel again. 
She’s drilling your ass, fucking you so hard and good as she holds your smallest finger with hers, kissing down your bloody back, licking up the scarlet that leaks from your skin. Suddenly, another tentacle — much smaller than the ones tearing your holes up — emerges from the ground, right in front of your face, its juices leaking onto your cheeks. 
It wiggles in front of your open mouth before shoving in; the taste is salty and metallic, but your lips work it, sucking and licking all around the length. You feel so filthy and it’s making your tummy tug, another orgasm building in your pussy and ass. It’s going to shatter you completely from its strength, you can feel it. 
Your body’s aching for more cum; you’re surprised it’s not coming spilling from your throat and onto the appendage in your mouth. But Ellie’s close, every whisper becoming more frantic as she rides that edge. 
You’re mine, she whispers in your ear, Fucking mine, you understand? You’re not going anywhere. 
You get it, you get it! You’re never leaving her again. Fuck everything you’ve built for yourself! Your life is pointless without Ellie next to you. You’re going to cum so hard for her. 
Your body’s hers; Your heart is hers; your soul is hers. You love her, you love her! 
Baby likes that? I own this fucking pussy? 
She knows she does: whispers so gross and conniving and you’re twitching under her. You’re babbling around the swelling appendage, telling her — screaming that you belong to her, you always have. You always will! 
You feel her teeth as she grins madly in satisfaction, sloppily mumbling mine mine s’ my pussy against your skin as she swells inside you. You’re stretching, gaping around her and you snap, head planting into the dirt. Both sets of walls clamp down sporadically around the large digits between them, the tentacle slipping from your mouth as you scream. 
Ellie’s exploding inside both holes, the tentacle above you spraying all over your face, heavy globs of cum landing in your hair, the back of your neck, splattering on your mouth, anywhere it could reach. Juices are spraying from between you, and Ellie falls forward, her freezing chest on your back as she jerks on top of you. Hearing her just as destroyed from the pleasure sends another surge of euphoria through you, somehow stronger than the first. 
You can barely take it, but Ellie makes you, continues flooding your holes until they’re overflowing and sticky. You’re both sent to another plane as you convulse together, her pinky still locked with yours as you lose consciousness. 
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When you wake, there’s warmth. 
You’re still filled to the brim with cum, but your form is blanketed. Small, tired huffs hit your back as Ellie shivers on top of you, barely audible noises alerting her satisfaction. You smile. 
You can't move; all your strength is used to wiggle the cramped muscle of your interlocked finger. Tears well in your eyes when Ellie’s finger hugs yours tighter with every small movement. 
Ellie’s the blanket; Ellie’s warm. 
Suddenly, everything around you is pink, the formerly empty spaces in your heart filled with affection. You missed Ellie so much; You’re finally reunited, and in love. You can’t stop smiling, and neither can she. 
‘BREAKING NEWS: BAKERY OWNER FOUND DECAPITATED IN MOTEL BED’
Today marks one of the most heart-wrenching, horrifying days that our community has ever seen, the local reporter stated. We have never witnessed a case end this disastrous. 
To the loved ones of this individual, we share our deepest condolences. The victim made such a large impact on our tiny town with her small business. Nobody… the reporter sighed, Nobody could’ve seen this coming. 
Please be on the lookout for any updates regarding the suspect. Investigators are putting as much effort into this case as they can. Police suggest staying indoors with your loved ones this holiday until further instructions. 
May God be with her family. Have a blessed night. 
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idk how to use picsart sorry yall LOL
taggiesss ily thank u 4 being patient :D :
@digit4lslut @hrtmal @sawaagyapong @starologist @shurisbigtoe @iamtootiredtopost @elliew-illiamsmissingfingers @sarahsmileslikesarahd0esntcare @slutty4abby @chrry1ovr @moonchild184 @womenofarcane @ohlawdthebirds @ellabsprincess @inf3ct3dd @aouiaa @dropsofs4turn @masclover111 @dyk3ang3l @zzzlove @jayy2inlovee @aandersonsbackpack @jade-posts-sometimes @elspeanut @elsbunny222 @alittlextrahoney @ultraviolenceellie @shamelessparty @0verthebluemoon @yuckyfucky
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cologona · 1 month
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Jason pretending to be a caricature of himself to see how inept/evil his family seriously believes him to be. Yes Tim I am going to kill babies to help poor people that is a real plan I have that I am going to do. Also help me change my Facebook status.
No one ever questions it though, and eventually it just becomes something he does- a defense mechanism. Bruce’s rejection, Dick’s barbs when he loses his cool, the others’ well-meaning comments and dismissals.. they can’t hurt him as much if they don’t really know him.
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irishmammonagenda · 2 months
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Death is a Debatable Thing-Obey Me x Reader
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Summary: MC died 😱 and reincarnated as an angel, as per usual; chaos ensues. Word Count: 6.9k Warnings: Mention of Death, Cursing, Torture (mentioned, no torture happens) Michael is featured heavily in this, I just made up a personality for him, I don't play NB a lot (it makes me too sad) and I think he shows up there so if this is different to how he's portrayed there then L for me. Everyone except Luke was written as and can be read as Romantic(/platonic if you prefer)You can read Michael as Romantic, but I wrote him more Platonically.
post dividers from @saradika-graphics on tumblr (their dividers r really cool check them out if u havent fr (sorry for tagging you btw i just wanted to give credit)
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"Absolutely not." You say, looking at your new found wings. "I did not die just to be reincarnated with the ugliest clothing I've ever seen."
"Would you have preferred to have been reincarnated as bare as Eve was in Eden?" The man you'd come to know as Michael. His dark skin shone in the blessed light of the celestial realm, his thick curly hair was pinned back in such a delicate fashion you wanted to unpin all the ornaments in it. Your fingers twitched at your sides.
"Isn't that against modesty rules or something...?" You paused, Simeon was an angel, he essentially had his ass out at all times anyway. Whore.
Michael stares at you weirdly, before playing with one of the loose strands of his hair, pulling the tight coil until it was completely straight before letting go and letting it spring back up again. Now you really wanted to mess up his hair. Just to annoy him.
"So anyway..." You start, sitting on a cloud that you fall through. For a moment you think you're about to pull a Lucifer and fall through the sky, but you manage to grab onto something and pull yourself up. That something is Michael's ankle and he's laughing at you, wiping a tear from ruby red eyes that shine just like that of his fallen brother.
"Stop laughing at me! Anyway, when can i go to the Devildom?" You inquire, watching Michael's face turn stern. He glares down at where you're lying, still gripping his ankle
"You're not returning to the Devildom anytime soon." He says sharply.
Your breath hitches. "Why not?! I have to let the brothers and Dia and Barbs and Sol and everyone else know I didn't die!"
"You did die. Why do you think you're an angel." Michael sighs, "and no. You're not letting them know you've returned."
"Why not?!" You repeat, outraged. "No offence though MC, but you´ve just died." "So?" You reply with indignation. "So," Michael says in a mocking tone, pitching his deep voice up high before letting it fall down the octaves once more. "You're barely able to walk on clouds or do anything yet. Letting you down to the Devildom is the equivalent of sending a baby bird into a den of lions."
"But...they'd protect me." You said softly, Michael's tone softens as well, laying a gentle hand on your shoulder.
"They'd also over-protect you, they've just lost you. I don't think you're ready for that smothering just after your death."
You nod. Michael's soft expression turns devious, "Plus, this way, you have plenty of time to think about how youre going to scare my broth-...the brothers and everyone else whilst proving you're alive...well an angel..."
You grin too. "Amazing point Mr Michael."
He plays with his golden locks again, an idiosyncracy. "Anytime" He grins before beginning to walk again, you grab onto his ankle tighter. "Oh and Mc?"
"Yeah?"
"Call me Mr Michael again and I'm shaving all you hair off. And trust me. Angel hair does not grow back." He smiles evilly. You shudder.
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Well it turns out Michael is a fucking liar.
After being a little bit too bored during your second month of being an angel and first month of learning not to fall through the clouds in Michael's private garden that consists purely of clouds and a singular harp he stole from some poor Irish Deity, you go bored and snipped your unnaturally long angel hair up to your waist. You didn't want to go too short just yet.
In the time frame of a week you learnt two things.
One: Angel hair does grow back, maybe a tiny bit faster than human hair, and Two, Michael was babysitting the harp. Turns out the Deity was called the Dagda and he was visiting France on holidays for some reason, poor man, having to go to France and deal with all the French People there. Turns out he left the harp in Michael's hands, something about Fomoranians not being smart enough to see this one coming.
You just nodded and slowly backed away. Michaels red eyes followed you. He and Lucifer had to be twins.
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Another day passed. The more you thought about it, the more Michael and Lucifer had to be twins. After having cut your hair to just below your shoulders, you found a piece of unnecessarily fancy parchment paper and a quill on Michael's desk
Holding the black quill in your hands you felt a sense of familiarity wash over you. Was that?....
No fucking way.
Michael was using one of Lucifer's feathers as a quill. You cackled.
After much deliberation you'd realised you could not write with a quill, but also that you were very good at ripping paper and making blotches of ink on said paper with a quill.
You decided to snoop in Michael's desk for a pen, instead you found a drawer titled, 'LUKE ONLY' in cursive letters, the label was stuck to the drawer so obviously you opened it.
Colouring books, letters written by Luke from the Devildom, Report Cards, Crayons, Drawings, and a pack of stickers were left in the drawer, a notepad lay next to it, Michael's cursive handwriting all over it 'Activities to do', it had things like 'Bowling' and 'Baking' and 'Gardening' and 'Teach him how to knit' and 'Arts and Crafts' and 'Prank Jesus' and 'Take him to Human Realm Cinema' and and anything else really. You cooed, your ivory wings rustling happily.
You grabbed a crayon and began to write.
WHY MICHAEL AND LUCI ARE TWINS one; same eyes two; both evil three; both hot four; satan is basically luci's son if you think about it and michael has blond hair too, if luci and michael are twins that means that blond hair is in the gene pool and thats how satn has blond hair even though luci has black hair five; both like wearing dramatic cape coat things six; both of them baby luke seven; they ha
"What are you doing?" Michael asks, startling you, and ruining your next point of 'they have hands', "Why is my drawer open?" He grabs the parchment from you, reads it and bellows out in laughter.
"We are twins you could've asked." He smiled, "also put the crayon back thats Red and Luke likes colouring in Teddy Bears red."
"Yessir."
You were a master conspiracy theorist.
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In the end, you and Michael had decided on visiting the Devildom for 'diplomatic' reasons, but upon seeing the glint in his eyes it was probably more for 'dicklomatic' reasons seeing as he's an utter dickhead.
You had a veil covering your face, seeing as you were still kind of legally and widely believed to be dead.
You know, the usual.
You walked behind Michael, attempting to kick at the back of his knees, it never worked sadly. You took a deep breath as you reached the RAD council room doors.
Michael grabs you by your shoulders whispering into your ear. "Now remember MC im going to use you as a bargaining tool, so keep that veil on till i say so, got it?" He grins.
You nod, knowing that 'bargaining tool' in Michaelish translates to 'im bored and want to see a dramatic reunion'
Michael opens the doors.
You walk in with him but stand at the door awkwardly, steeling yourself so you don't immediately run into any of your idiots' arms.
Luke apparently had the same idea, as when he saw Michael, he let out a happy 'yip!' kind of sound similar to a puppy's and then ran from where he stood beside Simeon and Solomon into the Archangel's arms.
Michael catches him happily, petting his head as the young angel nuzzles into his hair, blabbering on about who knows what. Asmo takes a photo of it, everyone else stares with varying levels of fondness, awkwardness and 'meh'.
Sadly for you however, once Simeon is done greeting Michael, and Michael is now distracted by Luke introducing him to Barbatos who is apparently the 'bestest baker in the world!' (you could agree with that sentiment), Simeon walked over to you, his serene smile on his face.
"Hello, I'm Simeon, forgive me for asking, but do I know you? You have a familiar aura."
You shake your head.
"Oh, never the matter" Simeon smiles, "What's your name then. my friend?"
You clear your throat and put on a deep american accent, "Rupert...Pleasure to meet you...Simeon.."
"Are you sure we haven't met before?"
"Certain." You say in the same ridiculous voice.
Simeon nods, he excuses himself after Solomon calls him over, you turn to glance at Michael who is carrying a now sleeping Luke in his arms and gently stroking the boy's golden hair while stressing out Lucifer with questions. Satan looks on with a smirk on his face.
Glancing around the room you see similar scenes, Mammon and Levi are playing a game on the latter's switch, Asmo, Solomon and Simeon are talking, sometimes glancing at you. Barbatos and Diavolo were watching Michael annoy Lucifer, with both sometimes adding their input, causing Michael to laugh loudly then stiffle it, so as not to wake up the sleeping baby in his arms. Beel and Belphie were near the others but still off in their own twin world, Belphie was awake and watching Michael bully Lucifer from where his head laying sleepily on his twin's leg.
Raphael, Thirteen and Mephisto had been sent out on a top secret mission the day before, Michael had said it was because he didnt want to die and also did not want his death to be put in the RAD Newspapers, especially a picture of him that was less than flattering.
Even though everyone seemed joyous, you noticed an air of sadness, like something was missing. Looking at your old seat in the student council you see the amount of flowers set on it.
Against your better judgement, you walk towards it. Not noticing a few pairs of eyes following you.
When you reach your former desk, you notice a photo of you framed, it was you and everyone, a family photo, everyone was either in their demon, angel or reaper forms, you wore really cheap red horns with a halo you shoved on one of them whilst also wearing an old reaper robe. It looked ridiculous, you loved it.
"Enjoying yourself? Rupert.~" a honeyed voice startles you. Asmo, although, somethings in his voice, maybe anger, maybe suspicion.
"Uhhh.." You say in your fake american accent.
"I'm Asmodeus, avatar of lust.~ Are you enjoying yourself?"
"Guess so." You shrug Americanly, thankful once more the veil covers your whole face.
Asmo's eyes have some hurt in them, he seems...catty, probably because you, who he thinks is a random stranger is just standing at his dead loved one's desk.
L.
You open your mouth to say something, but no sound comes out, especially not when another familiar voice is added to the mix.
"Well hello. I don't believe we've met before. The name's Solomon. You must've heard of me."
Oh shit.
"Oh...I have, briefly! Hello Solomon, my name's Robert." You say in your fake deep american accent voice.
Asmo tilts his head, "I thought your name was Rupert?"
Shit.
"Oh. Yes" You quickly bullshit, "My name's got the hyphens, Robert-Rupert." You avoid eye contact despite the fact you have a veil covering your face that only lets you see out of it, so the sorcerer and demon can't even make eye contact with you, even if they wanted to.
This was getting awkward.
"You seem very familiar Robert-Rupert." Solomon says, you did not like that crafty smile.
"I get that a lot." You nod before walking away.
You walk towards Michael who, has a now awake but sleepy Luke in his arms, he sits on one of the sofas in the council room beside Simeon, with Barbatos, Diavolo and Lucifer facing them on the other sofa. Atleast you'll be safe from Solomon over here. As you walk, you notice Satan, Beel and Belphie have left. Either Lucifer was going to get pranked or Lucifer was going to get pranked but not as prankily because Beel unknowingly made puppy-eyes. Mammon and Levi were bickering quietly in a corner (shocking they could do it quietly) about who won the lat round of Devilio kart.
When Michael saw you approaching he waved you over, beckoning you to sit down in the empty space beside him, "This is an angel I'm currently training, their name is.....Steven."
Simeon tilts his head "I thought their name was Rupert?"
Michael clears his throat awkwardly.
You make your voice the deep horrible American accent, "My full name is Robert-Rupert-Steven...it's hyphenated."
Michael nods aggressively.
Lucifer, Simeon, and Barbatos side-eye eachother. Something was going on here.
"So, Robert-Rupert-Steven," Barbatos begins, his polite smile a little jagged at the edges, "I saw you at MC's desk earlier, how so?"
At the mention of your actual name, everyone there tenses up, Luke, thankfully is too sleepy to have realised, Michael quickly stands up with the small angel in his strong arms, knowing if he heard the conversation about to occur he would be upset, "I should probably go, give this one a walk around to wake him up a little. Simeon, would you like to come with me?"
Simeon nods, Michael and Him leave the council room, with Luke sleepily holding both of their hands and walking slowly along with them.
Now you were stuck with the Prince of the Devildom, the Scary Butler and the Scary Single-Dad. All of which haven't realised that it's you, and all of which thinking you are a random stranger.
"Well, Robert-Rupert-Steven?" Diavolo asks, his friendly demeanor the tiniest bit strange,"What captivated you to go towards MC's desk."
"Who's MC?" You decide to play it dumb. Bad decision, seeing as all three stiffen, Barbatos' being the most unnoticeable.
A very long 3 hour conversation went by, wherein, Diavolo, Lucifer, Barbatos as well as a certain Mammon and Levi who joined 10 minutes in, and an Asmo and Solomon who joined 12 minutes in talked about you, for 3 hours straight.
'AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.' was an accurate reprenstation of your mental state actually.
The urge to just rip your veil off right there was almost stronger than the urge to dropkick Maddi anytime you remembered she existed. Keyword being almost.
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You just about made it out of the council room with your life. Now for your master plan. Scare the absolute shit out of the Anti-Lucifer-League. That'll get them back for never listening to your amazing prank suggestion of leaving random origami swans around the house in random spots. It was genius!
Breaking into the House of Lamentation was always easy when you knew that Mammon hid his emergency house key behind the garden gnome that now you saw it....kind of looked like a really bad rendition of Michael. With its dark skin, A DnD-esque robe and, a horrible smiley face painted on it, and the worst crime of all, bright yellow, almost neon hair, and also a princess tiara.
You almost cackled.
Taking the key you slowly open the door to the kitchen and sneakily sneak in. Sadly for you, it was they key to the kitchen door to the outside of the back of the house, which meant it opened in the kitchen, and since it opened in the kitchen, you awkwardly waved at Beel, who was having a midnight feast.
Beel tilts his head. "You're the Angel from earlier. What are you doing here?"
You once more, fake your Robert-Rupert-Steven voice and say, "I have Materials for the Anti-Lucifer League as they've suggested."
You are such a good liar.
"Oh," Beel nods, normally he wouldn't let a stranger into the house, but something felt...familiar...and safe with you. "Okay then, do you know where you're going?"
"Yes."
Beel nods, and goes back to eating the pudding labelled 'MAMMONS: BEEL DONT TOUCH THESE'
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After much searching, you do not find the Anti-Lucifer-League, but you do unfortunately, open the door to Lucifer's office. The place where Lucifer currently is.
He looks up immediately on guard. You are not prepared to die a second time,
"What are you-" He begins, in demon form and standing up.
You interrupt him, making 'woooooh!' sounds and waving your arms about, and in your Robert-Rupert-Steven voice, you say "Wooooh! I am the....ghost of christmas past!...Woooh! and I am..." You pause, not noticing your Robert-Rupert-Steven voice has began to slip away, and your natural one has taken its place. "I am here to tell youuuuu.....to woohhhh! Take breaks more! Woooh!....and not overwork yourself! Woooh!"
Lucifer pauses, the danger in his eyes fades into disbelief. He knows that voice. He's spent the better part of a year listening to recordings of that voice and praying to his Father for the first time since the celestial war for that voice to return to him.
"..MC?.."
You've been found out. Quickly you put your Robert-Rupert-Steven voice back on, except it's gone up 12 pitches. "Who's MC?! Haha! What a weird thing to sa-"
You don't get to finish, as Lucifer pulls your veil off. His breath hitches upon seeing your face.
Your covers been blown. All because you pretended to be the ghost of Christmas past. Great.
Lucifer immediately pulls you into a hug, arms tightening around you, as if he's afraid you'd disappear. He chuckles, wiping tears from his eyes, his frame shakes. "I thought-thought I'd lost you forever...I always thought your face was angelic...-...it's fitting."
You hug him just as tightly.
But ever the menace, after about an hour or so, you look up at the Avatar of Pride, "Say, Luci?"
"Yes, my dove?"
"Wanna help me prank the rest of them?"
"Perhaps...I might help with...some setups..." He pauses, "You are telling Barbatos outright though."
You shudder. "Of course I am. I don't have a second deathwish."
Lucifer's grip on you tightens slightly, you kiss his cheek in apology. "Sorry," You grin, "Too soon?"
"Try again in another century dear."
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The next day, the first thing you and Lucifer do is travel to the Demon Lord´s Castle.
Barbatos greets you in the Entrance Hall, "Oh, Lucifer," He nods in greeting at the eldest of the brothers (second eldest actually, seeing as Michael enjoys bragging that he's older by a whopping total of 2 minutes) he turns to you, who put the veil back on, "And Robert-Rupert-Steven, Welcome to the Demon Lord's Castle, although, I must ask, why you have shown up today?"
In your Robert-Rupert-Steven voice, you accidentally, against your better judgement, and rather impulsively state; "I'm here to assassinate Dia-...volo."
A portal opens, dragging you through it, and you land in the feared rumoured dungeons. Barbatos follows gracefully, now in Demon Form. Leaving a sighing Lucifer in his wake in the Entrance Hall. He decides to just journey to Diavolo's office and discuss things related to work. Barbatos wouldn't hurt you when he found out it was you so he really had nothing to worry about. Maybe you'd finally learn to stop joking about assassinating Diavolo, especally when other Noble Demons were around at Balls.
Sadly for you, you were now alone in Barbatos' Dungeons. Now what's scarier than being alone in Barbatos' Dungeons? Being alone with Barbatos in Barbatos' dungeons.
Time to run away.
As it turns out, running away isn't very easy when magic chains pin you to the wall. In your panic, you blurt out, "You know, I'd rather you pin me to the wall haha!" in your normal voice. The fear forcing your horrible puns and jokes to slip out.
Barbatos, who had been approaching menacingly calmly with a torture device pauses so fast it gives you whiplash. (Better than getting whiplash from the whip he was previously holding.)
In some display akin to a cockroach kind of squirming about after you crush it, in your chained up state you manage to twitch enough that you were able to pinch a piece of your veil's fabric just enough that it falls to the ground.
Immediately, the magic chains fall away, strong arms catch you as you stumble. "Hi Barbs..." You say breathlessly.
Barbatos looks like he'd seen a ghost. (You were an Angel, thank you very much.) After your death he had tried and tried to pull a you from another dimension. It would never work, some force stopped him each time. (To be fair, it was probably your jealous ass. No way in Diavolo were you being replaced by yourself from another dimension.)
His bottom lip trembles, much like the rest of his body, as he leans in, "May I, my dear?" You nod, giving him your consent as he kisses you so gently, as if he feared you would break or fade away.
He murmurs apology upon apology for the fact he had no doubt frightened you, he couldn't risk a threat to Diavolo, your 'death' had left him a little...tethered and emotional.
You close your eyes and kiss him again, now noticing you're in the kitchens and not in the spooky scary dungeon.
"Wanna bake cookies? Like we always used to do?"
Barbatos nods softly. "You do have to tell Lord Diavolo you're actually alive though, little lamb."
Your eyes light up. "We could make a cake! And hide me inside it!"
Barbatos sighs, but looking at your puppy eyes, he agrees. Gently he picks a stray ivory feather from your wings, making them rustle at the touch. Devil...you looked angelic.
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Baking with Barbatos was always fun, but sadly he did not agree with your attempt at throwing flour at him.
"MC?" He catches your attention, bringing an ungloved hand to caress your face, "Have I ever told you that you shine brighter than all the stars in the Devildom?"
You blush and try to cover your face when he turns away to add more eggs into your batter only to find flour on your face. That sneaky bastard! Psychological warfare is illegal. And that sure felt like it.
It was on.
Apparently it was only on for you though. Though you did get a speck of flour on Barbatos' apron. That was a win, especially if you ignore the fact that your face and apron were covered in the white powder, which you were ignoring! So take that Barbatos!
In the end, the cake was beautiful, Barbatos helped you into the cake, and cut out a you shaped hole out of the layers made.
He then helped you out again, and the Flour War began again only this time with icing.
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Hiding in a cake is quite a fun experience. Especially when you can take bites of your hiding space. Yum yum.
You feel Barbatos' wheeling of you stop as he reaches Diavolo's office, he knocks on the door, and as you requested, begins to film on his DDD (you had to promise the video would never get out of your hands.)
Diavolo sat alone, Lucifer had had to leave an hour before, Beel had went on a rampage in Hell's Kitchen again apparently.
"My Lord, I feel you have been feeling down, so here is a treat." Barbatos says, "And as a special treat, I will allow you to cut it yourself." He nods at Diavolo who you can just picture has stars in his eyes as you hear the demon butler walk to a corner of the room, still filming.
Diavolo brings the knife to the cake, as it cuts into it, you grab the blade and pull it forward. Upon hearing Divaolo's confused murmurs, You peek through the tiny hole the knife made, seeing Diavolo distracted, tilting his head like a child and asking Barbatos what he should do now.
You however know what you should do now.
Quick as a flash, you shove your hands through the cake, reach for Diavolo's arms and pull him in face first.
You didn't even care if it was probably treason. Diavolo's suprised screaming and Barbatos' slight surprised chuckle was so worth it.
It was worth it for Diavolo even after 4 hours, as he held you in his big arms, whilst the both of you were still covered in cake. Barbatos, the traitor, snapped photos of this and sent them to Lucifer.
On a great note, Diavolo agreed to help prank the rest of the brothers with you, much to Barbatos' dismay. (The butler was definitely going to help you with a certain sorcerer, however)
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After a night and day at the castle and a very extensive bath, you recollected your veil, and snuck out (read: Barbatos and Diavolo waved goodbye to you and gave you some left over cake for the journey home) of the castle, you began your walk to Purgatory Hall.
Michael was staying there, and you needed to tell him everyone's reactions so far.
It was also a Saturday, meaning that Solomon would be out in Sorcerer's society meetings all night and morning.
When you got there you made use of the tree there and climbed up it until you saw something in Luke's room. You paused your climbing and looked in through the window.
Two figures were in the Young Angel's room.
As Luke lay tucked in in his bed, cuddling the dog plushie that Mammon had given him at a carnival last year that he claims to have thrown away, Michael and Simeon sat on his bed, the nightlight on the boy's bedside table created a gentle glow that the two elder were using to read the storybook strew across both of their laps aloud, they appeared to be acting it out ever so slightly. When Luke finally drifted off. Both Angels kissed his forehead then dimmed the nightlight down slightly, dim enough where it wouldn't hurt the boy's eyes but bright enough that the dark wouldn't scare him if he woke up in the middle of the night, keeping the curtains open for added light.
You cooed silently, your white wings rustling.
Snapping out of it, you scale across the wall before finding the spare room Michael was staying in and breaking in.
"Hello Motherfucker." You greet the Archangel.
"You couldn't pay me to fuck your mother."
"Harsh. And here I was about to tell you my escapades..." You sigh dramatically. Michael immediately smiles sweetly. Buttering you up. You cave.
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After about an hour of Michael laughing at you specifically, and then changing your contact to 'ghost of christmas past' the bastard finally fell asleep.
Feeling thirsty, you snuck downstairs into the kitchen to get a drink, and also a sharpie so you could draw a mustache on Michael's face. Not bothering to put your veil on seeing as no one would be awake anyway.
As you filled up a glass of water and leaned against the kitchen counter drinking it, lost in your own plans, mainly of who to prank nest and how to do it.
You don't hear the little pitter-patter of feet until it's too late.
"MC?" A sleepy Luke stands in the doorway in cat themed pajamas no doubt gifted to him by a certain someone, he holds his dog plush loosely as he rubs his eyes with a tiny fist.
He walks slowly towards the cupboard, pouting sleepily when he realises he can't reach it, you immediately grab his favourite mug,(the one with the red tractor on it) knowing to put milk and some sugar in it before placing it in the microwave for 2 minutes.
Luke walks over to you still half asleep, resting his face on your side, you bring him in for a hug. "Simeon said you went to a happy place after you left, he always got sad when I asked when you were coming home..."
You bite your lip and speak softly, "My flight got delayed for a little while," You lie. Luke didn't need to know you died, Simeon hadn't told him in the best of ways to shield the young boy, that worked out in your favour.
You catch the microwave before it beeps, taking the warm milk out and stirring the hot-spots out of it before handing it to Luke. With his teddy now in the crook of his elbow, he sleepily took the mug before putting his tiny hand in yours.
"C'mon Luke, let's get you back to bed." You say softly, he nods tiredly.
"Will you tuck me in? And read me a bedtime story?" He yawns quietly.
"Of course."
After closing his curtains and tucking Luke in, he snuggles up to you and you read him a bedtime story, after drinking his warm milk, he falls asleep quite quickly, so do you.
A mistake, really. Seeing as in the morning when Simeon comes in to wake the small angel up and sees you there he lets out a shriek very out-of-character for him.
A shriek which wakes both you and Luke up.
Luke smiles toothily, "Oh Simeon! MC came back last night! Did you not see?"
Simeon collects himself, "I must've been asleep Luke, why don't you get dressed then come down for breakfast? Michael and I made pancakes. M-MC, why don't you come downstairs now?"
Luke nods and gets up dutifully.
As soon as you leave the room and Simeon is sure you're both out of the earshot of Luke, he pulls you into a hug which you return.
"I thought I'd lost you.." He breathes out softly.
"Me? C'mon Simmy...you know I'd never let death keep me." You laugh, he laughs breathlessly.
"I suppose not...." He captures your lips in a soft innocent kiss before leading you downstairs, hand-in-hand.
When Michael sees the two of you he offers you a pancake, far too casually for Simeon's taste.
Simeon looks between the two of you and glares at Michael. "You knew about this."
"Haha! Funny story actually! I need to go help Jesus! He's gone and ventured into another desert!" Michael laughs nervously before booking it, only coming back when Luke appears, knowing then he's safe from Simeon's wrath....
....for now.
You took out your super serious napkin and crayon that you stole from Diavolo (read: Diavolo gave you) and crossed out Simeon's name.
Your list was now as follows:
Purgatory Hall Simeon Solomon House of Lamentation Mammon Levi Satan Asmo Beel Belphie
For Satan and Belphie, you could knock out two Anti-Lucifer-League Birds with one stone. It felt a little mean to prank prank Levi and Beel...Mammon and Asmo were debatable, but you were going all out on Solomon. That'll teach him to turn you into a sheep that one time 2 years ago.
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After careful deliberation and planning, (20 seconds of thinking.) You'd decided to sneak into the Sorceror's society and jokingly attempt to assassinate Solomon, and maybe fully assassinate Maddi if she was there. Not maybe, definitely.
Veil over your head, you walked in, when the sorcerer guards stopped you, you just pretended to be Michael then walked further in. Apparently they were terrified of the Archangel. Damn this society needs better sorcerers securitying it.
After stealing schedules you realised Solomon would be in a meeting right now with a bunch of no names. Oh well.
You crept into the meeting and attempted to plunge the butter knife Barbatos' gave you from the castle kitchens specifically for this in his neck, knowing he'd dodge. "This is for the Sheep Potion you Rat Bastard!" You screech like a Bean Sídhe. After half a millisecond of shock and slight anger, Solomon realises who it is behind the veil, laughing he grabs the arm you're holding the butter knife in and drags you into his lap, gently ripping the veil off of you and giving you a peck on the forehead, before he turns to the shocked and slack-jawed sorcerers that looked older than he did. "Sorry all, my adorable partner," He puncuates the word partner by pulling you closer to him, "missed me a little too much. and has-" He kisses you on the lips passionately for a moment, leaving you very much breathless and him very much chuckling, "-strange ways of showing their affection."
Bastard.
Some time into the meeting you whisper, "How are you not more shocked?"
"Well Robert-Rupert," He whispers teasingly back to you, "Remember that binding spell we did back when you were alive? It never broke. I knew the moment I saw you."
Your heart stops. "Did you tell anyone else?"
"I debated telling Asmo, but I suppose you wanted to on your own terms." He teases.
"I should've tried to stab you with a sharper knife."
Solomon laughs, "Oh and MC my love?"
"Hmm?"
His eyes glint predatorily, "You look absolutely ravishing as an angel. I can't help but want to corrupt you..."
You bury your face in his chest to hide your blush.
Bastard.
On the bright side, now a rumour that Solomon the Wise and Michael the Archangel are secret lovers has spread around the Devildom. You're counting that as a win.
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Purgatory Hall Simeon Solomon House of Lamentation Mammon Levi Satan Asmo Beel Belphie
After your encounter with Solomon, you'd decided learning to just hide your angel form was the best course of action. Luckily it was fucking easy and you could've done it ages ago. Strange how Simeon and Luke never mentioned it....meh. You're pretty sure Luke just thought Michael thought you were super cool so he made you an angel. You weren't telling him anything otherwise.
´Satan and Belphie watch your fucking backs.´ was the pedal note of all your thoughts currently, you´d snuck back into the House of Lamentation, thankfully Beel was not in the kitchen, he was at Fangol at this hour.
Walking through the halls stealthily, you heard whispers as two sets of feet seemed to enter the room at the farthest end of the hallway. Lucifer´s room.
You fucking caught them.
No time to be caught in Lucifer´s room, seeing as if you were there long enough and Lucifer caught you, you would not be leaving for a good while.
So you crept up to the attic, the official Anti-Lucifer-League headquarters, you climbed the pillars to get on the roof and you waited.
Sure enough, ten minutes later, snickering could be heard coming up to the attic. Satan opens the door, letting Belphie in, both brothers in various fits of sniggering as they walk into the room.
"He'll never see this one coming!" "This is our best one yet."
From your place on the attic ceiling, you spot Lucifer filming on his DDD from the shadows of the doorway. Of course he found out about this.
"Of course it's our best one yet!"
You swing down off of the ceiling beam, swinging lightly upside down. "And you didn't invite me?" You pout.
Satan and Belphie scream, clutching onto eachother, before noticing that it's you and running to pull you down and clutch onto you instead. You notice Lucifer chuckle and put his DDD in his pocket before leaving. Traitor.
You cuddle into your two Anti-Lucifer League Brethren, maybe this wasn't so bad. (Of course it wasn't, you loved your idiots.)
Safe to say, you didn't leave the attic for a long time. Apparently people need time to process that you're not actually dead. What madness.
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House of Lamentation Mammon Levi Satan Asmo Beel Belphie
You had long unentangled yourself with a sleeping Belphie and Satan, making sure to leave a:
it wasnt a dream dont worry lads im alive.
note on their chests just in case.
Sitting in the attic with your napkin and crayon in hand, you ripped the Purgatory Hall part off of it and used the back of it for that note, you scanned through the list. You should save your First Man for last, so your next options were Beel, Asmo and Levi.
Seeing as you've shown yourself to Belphie, it's only natural your gentle giant is next.
Watch your fucking back Beel. Literally
Speaking of, it's been a few hours, Beel should be coming back from Fangol practice any moment now.
As was routine at this point, you crept through the House of Lamentation's halls and quickly ran into Beel and Belphie's shared bedroom.
As Beel walked into the room, his Fangol bag slung across his chest and a pile of after Fangol snacks in his hands, you braced yourself, made a run for it, anf landed right square on his back, arms around his neck to keep from falling.
"Oh hi MC!" Beel hummed cheerfully, before his eyes widened and he dropped his snacks. "MC?!"
"Hi!"
Quick as a flash, Beel maneuvers himself in 'dying cockroach you in Barbatos' dungeons part two' and grabs you into his arms.
"I thought you died..." He said, smelling your hair as he cuddled you.
"I did. I just came back as an angel."
"Really?" His breath hitches, "Can I see?.."
You take a deep breath and your wings and halo pop out, he strokes them gently.
"You're beautiful..." He whispers, enraptured...."I think...out of all of Father's creations over the years since the celestial war...you're the most precious...."
He speaks softly, always the gentle giant, the moment lasts for just a moment, before the moment, like all moments do, has passed. Beel's stomach rumbles and you giggle.
"You should eat your snacks, Beelie.."
"They always taste better when we share." He nods seriously.
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House of Lamentation Mammon Levi Satan Asmo Beel Belphie
Levi or Asmo? You bit your crayon in thought then immediately made a face. Crayons did not taste nice.
Speaking of things that did not taste nice, you remembered that one time you tried to eat Levi's controller because you were bored.
Levi it was!
You had to time this perfectly, waiting in the shadows until Levi went down to get a snack, you snuck into his room, saying the answer to his password out of pure habit, before sitting on his gamer chair and maneuvering it in such a way he would not be able to see anyone on it from the door.
When Levi walked into his room, a bag of crisps in hand, he took a few steps before you swung around "Boo!" and he screamed. Dropping his crisps.
After convincing him you were infact not a ghost (Unlike Lucifer's), you sat with him in your arms, watching anime, and getting caught up on the new episodes released.
You cuddled up to him in his bathtub that night. You grinned evilly. This gave you an idea.
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House of Lamentation Mammon LeviSatan Asmo Beel Belphie
It was no secret that Asmo bathed a lot. Funfact, Angels can hold their breath for 30 minutes!
As Asmo was busy picking out which pajamas he wanted to wear after his bath, you tiptoed behind him and slowly got in his bath, hiding under the bubbles.
It took a total of five minutes before Asmo closed the door to his bathroom and got into his bath, this was your chance! Reaching out, you grabbed his foot and pulled him under.
He screeched, when got back above the surface of the water, he grabbed your hand and pulled you over.
He squealed this time, hugging you tightly.
"Oh MC darling!~ I thought you were...well never the matter~...." He punctuated each word by kissing your face all over, leaving you squirming in his grasp out of embarassment. "How naughty!~ Sneaking into my bath like that...~...not that you arent always welcome my lovely!~"
"A-asmo," You say, your clothes soaked, though you couldn't find yourself caring. "Asmo, I love you..." your voice is soft and the Avatar of Lust coos.
It was a nice night.
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Time for your final victim. Your First Man. Feeling nice, you decided not to do something too mean.
Painstakingly, you made a trial of grimm from the front door to your First Man's room, more specifically; to his bed. The plan was to hide behind the door and jumpscare him while he was busy collecting the grimm.
Unfortunately for you, seeing as you weren't sure when Mammon got off his modelling shift, you'd finished far too early, and since you and Asmo were up the entire night, you were quite sleepy.
Surely a little 5 minute nap wouldnt hurt?
You woke up hours later to a sobbing Mammon on top of you, cuddling you in his arms like his life depended on it. It seems you'd falled asleep on his bed, more specifically in his nest.
In the nest you would normally sleep in while alive. (While Human technically, seeing as you are alive, just not human.)
You bring a hand to his snowy locks, he sobs harder. Like his brother, kissing all over your face softly, "Thought I lost ye' forever Hum'n" he gasps for air, his sobs quieting down, "Though' you were gone....I prayed ev'ry nigh'...." he says, voice barely above a whisper as he strokes your cheek, looking into your eyes. "I prayed ta Fath'r ev'ry nigh' since ye' died...that he'd bring ye' back te me...."
"And he did..." You say just as softly, bringing your hand up to wipe the tears from his eyes, sharing a soft kiss with him. As always, your greedy lovable bastard would want more, and you'd want nothing more than to give them to him.
And the next day when you told Michael you'd be staying in the Devildom he cheered, then told you to include him in this 'Anti-Lucifer League business' because it 'seemed fun'.
Wow. Now you knew where Satan got it from. Poor Lucifer, he just barely got away from Michael in the Celestial realm, and now he has to deal with Michael 2.0 in the Devildom.
Satan and Michael really were kind of similar....maybe it's a good thing they've only met in passing.
Moral of the story kids. Death sucks, don't do it. If you do do it, reincarnate. Bam! Problem Solved.
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This is the longest ever fic I've ever wrote and probably does not make a lot of sense so I apologise for that. I also apologise for any ooc behaviour i'm still learning how to write characterisation😔✊
also i love thinking of Michael being a father figure to Luke and its very obvious
887 notes · View notes
dannysdcxdpblog · 2 months
Text
a list of incorrect quotes from batfam and danny's group
bruce: I don’t remember that. dick: Do you remember that night last week when you slept in a revolving door? bruce: …No. dick: Okay, do you remember when you were chased by those wild dogs for two miles? bruce: Not especially, no. dick: It was in between those two things.
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tim: Woah dude, premarital handholding? That’s just not cool or groovy.
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danny: tim, we tried things your way. tim: No, we didn't. danny: I did it in my head and it didn't work.
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bruce: If you think I’m playing favorites, you’re wrong. I love all of you equally! bruce, earlier: I don’t care for tucker.
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barb: :) damian: >:( barb: Turn that frown upside down! damian: ):< barb: Not sure what I was expecting…
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dani: The scariest president had to be Rushmore because he had four heads. barb: Yeah, it’s a good thing we captured him in that mountain, even if we have to live in fear of the spell wearing off. tucker: Do you two still believe in that legend? Come on, Rushmore was killed a hundred years ago! We’re safe now. bruce: You people have clearly never taken a history lesson. His body was never found.
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steph: I’m the smartest, wisest person in this group. jason: Really? Then why is your hand stuck in a vending machine? steph: I paid for my Mars Bar, I’m getting my Mars Bar.
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damian: Ugh, there’s always that weak bitch in the group who isn’t down with murder. damian: glares at bruce bruce: Well, sorry I have morals!
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bruce: That was the worst throw ever. Of all time. tucker: Not my fault. Somebody put a wall in the way.
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danny: I'm a nice person, but I'm about to start throwing rocks at people.
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danny: Vegetable oil is made from vegetables, coconut oil is made from coconuts, so BABY OIL- dick: CAN'T WE JUST HAVE A NICE FAMILY DINNER FOR ONCE?!
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dick: I am not a whore, and, not that I’ve done the math, but, if I were, I’d be the super classy kind that gets flown to Dubai to stay in an underwater hotel.
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tucker: Some people are like slinkies. bruce: What? tucker: Not really good for much but bring a smile to your face when you push them down the stairs. bruce: bruce: Please don't push tim down the stairs. tucker, pushing tim down the stairs: Too late.
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tim, writing in their diary with a glitter gel pen: I'm losing my sense of humanity. Nothing matters. God is dead. There's blood on my hands.
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dick: Is five a lot of followers? danny: Depends on the context. danny: On Instagram? No, not a lot of followers. danny: In a dark alley? Yes, a lot of followers.
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inkykeiji · 1 month
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⋆₊˚⊹♡ vox + marking you
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character: vox warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, marking/branding (carving something into the skin), blood, toxic relationship, extreme possessiveness, daddy kink, dacryphilia, fem!reader, minimal/no prep, dubcon if you squint, pet names, painful sex, reader doesn’t get to orgasm words: 1.8k notes: vox likes to mark what belongs to him. permanently. and, as always, that mark must be perfect.
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He’s been at it for nearly half an hour now, a slow drag of his index claw downward, pressure concentrated on the very point of the talon, following the line of a perfect slant before sharply pivoting upward, velocity slowing as it works back toward your hips, tracing another slant perfectly parallel to the first. 
V. 
A split second of reprieve, a single instant where the metal leaves your skin only to find the origin of the wound and begin the process all over again. 
“V-Vox—”
“Don’t move, sweetheart,” he warns, his voice low and airy, so close and concentrated on his work that you can feel his breath wafting over the cut, cool and burning. 
Cyan pupils pulse as they expand, desperate to devour as much as they can, scouring every minute detail and honing their focus on the singular letter he’s painstakingly carving into your pubic bone.
He’s meticulous with it, of course, just as he is with everything else, every movement precise and perfect. It has to be done this way, he had told you at the start, when you had whined about the deliberately drawn-out drag of his talon. Slow and steady, so it will heal in sharp, neat lines, all raised and gorgeous. 
A permanent mark of ownership, scarred into your skin for the rest of eternity.
The tapered tip of the V is the worst part, the harsh, quick maneuver of his claw procuring a deep sting, a yelp sticking in your throat as you try to swallow against the sound, Vox’s immediate responding coo, always accompanied by the brush of his thumb over your hip in the gentlest caress, doing little to soothe the pain. 
“But it—it hurts,” you hiccup out, eyes squeezing shut tightly against the prick of tears. “How much longer?” 
“Just a few more times, baby, I promise,” he presses a chaste kiss to your inner thigh, glancing up at you. “You’re doing so well for me, lovebug, so well.”
But a few more times turns into another agonizing fifteen minutes with seemingly no end in sight, Vox lost in the repetitive actions, and the wound is starting to tingle, sticky crimson pooling in the flawlessly carved gouges, staining teal bright red. 
Tears have begun to leak from the corners of your eyes as they finally overflow, spilling past your lash line to stream down the sides of your temples in uneven little trails, vision gone blurry with a thick shield of water.
Your ribs stammer with half-stifled sobs, a soft hush distractedly falling from Vox’s lips with each minuscule jerk of your body, the hand on your hip tightening in warning. 
“Daddy’s almost done, darling,” he pacifies, a gentle threat sewn into his tone—don’t fucking move yet—we’re so close, don’t you dare mess this up. “Just a tiny bit longer, I swear.” 
“I can’t, I can’t, Daddy, it’s—it’s too much!” 
“Hey,” he looks up, a shock of sincerity slapped across his face, his voice ringing with painfully raw compassion. “I know you can handle just a few more for Daddy, can’t you? Don’t you want it to look pretty, too?”
Large eyes search your face with a rabid type of candour, hunting for validity. But your head is already nodding before he’s even finished speaking, motions becoming increasingly vigorous, an instinctual reaction, at this point—obedient as ever, desperate to please.
Of course you do—you want whatever he does, always. 
“Y-Yes,” you manage to sniffle out, the heels of your hands wiping messily at your lashes, smearing tears across your cheeks. “Yes, yes, Daddy.” 
His eyes soften, their usually bold glow dimmed with a sick sort of adoration, but his smile is barbed, stretching with something sinister. 
“There’s my good girl,” Vox purrs, pressing another tender kiss to the junction of your thigh and your hip. “Now, hold still while Daddy finishes.”
Another three traces through the routine—these last three harder and more purposeful than all those that came before them—and finally, he’s done, sitting back on his heels between your spread legs and gazing down at his masterpiece. 
Blood drips down his index finger in a thick dollop, his eyes shifting to watch with morbid fascination, the tip of his claw glazed with shimmering scarlet. Tilting it one way, then the other, he examines how it gleams in the low light of his bedroom—so pretty, he looks so pretty stained with you—then brings the talon to his lips, long tongue snaking from between his teeth to curl around it in a possessive embrace. 
He sucks it into the heat of his mouth, a low groan rumbling deep behind his sternum as his eyes slip shut, taking a moment to savour the taste of you. His lids snap back open a moment later, eyes drifting back to the freshly etched V, his free hand moving to rub at his cock, straining eagerly against his trousers. 
“F-Fuck,” he shudders out, the word soft as he stares at it, wide and unblinking, rolling the impressive bulge in his palm in lopsided little circles, then grinding the heel of his hand into it, his hips twitching up instinctively. “Daddy’s gonna fuck you now, okay, princess?” 
Your head is nodding, but you’re barely able to utter out an affirmative, because then he’s surging forward, a palm cupping your jaw as his fingers hook behind the hinge, pulling your face towards his and smashing your lips together. Bursts of copper explode on your tastebuds as he drags his tongue across yours—the slick muscle stronger, larger, wider as it shoves its way into your mouth, impelling your own tongue further into the hot, wet cavern. 
It’s sloppy and slippery and so, so sexy, his claws piercing your skin with superficial little pricks as he tries to yank you closer, your nose scrunched against his screen. Obscene squelching echoes throughout his bedroom as your lips glide and nip, copious amounts of drool, tinged pink with your blood, oozing from the corners of your conjoined mouths, leaving your chins shining with spit.
He overrides your senses, overwhelms your receptors and infuses your mind with nothing but him—his taste, smoky spice infused with metallic notes; his scent, sharp balsam and expensive cologne; his touch, still burning at the apex of your thighs, a constant reminder, an everlasting claim. 
A sharp gasp breaks the kiss as he forces his cock inside of you, forehead knocking against your own with a dark growl as his hips rock forward, burying himself in your cunt in a single, fluid motion.
Large hands curl around your hips, pinning them in place and keeping you from squirming away as he ruts into you, grinding his cockhead further into your cervix, ensuring he’s buried as deep as he possibly can be.
A singular moment, a breath shared between the two of you, oxygen sparse and dizzying as he takes time to revel in the feeling of filling you to the hilt, your sweet little hole spasming around him as it stretches and splits, eager to accommodate his girth, to gorge on his flesh.
Leaning back on his haunches, he drags your hips along with him, tailbone resting on his folded thighs, your knees thrown over either side of his hips. 
There’s no warning, no slow start or gradual build up, his cock slamming into you searing and sudden, fucking a gorgeous cry of his name from your throat. 
His chest heaves with ragged exhales as his hips pump, hard and fast and rough, voracious gaze swapping between your bouncing tits and the crisply engraved V glittering up at him on your pubic bone, still coloured with blood, drizzling past the scrupulously incised grooves with each vicious ram to stream down your skin, leaving tiny streaks of red.
The gash enchants him, pupils swollen as they soak up the sight, captivated by the way it quivers with every ruthless thrust into you, watching each drive of his cock as he sheathes himself in your cunt. The glistening arousal coating his shaft contrasts the blood so perfectly, the hands on your waist yanking downward with every jackhammer of his hips, forcing you to meet his motions. 
“Mine, mine, mine,” he’s snarling as he fucks you, the word punched from his chest with each plunging thrust. 
“Yours, Daddy,” you sob out with messy little nods, dainty fingers braceletting his wrists, nails sinking into thin skin as you cling to him. “Yours, yours!” 
“No one gets to have you like this,” he gasps out, voice gone hoarse. “No one, tell me.” 
“No one—No one gets to have me like this but you, Da-Daddy,” you nearly wail, staring up at him with such bright devotion it almost hurts, your gaze lacquered with tears. 
“Ah, fuck,” he whimpers, the curse shattering on his tongue, his eyes shutting tightly for a moment before springing back open, gaping and gluttonous. “Yeah, yeah, you’re goddamn right.”
His motions have turned downright brutal now, every pound of his cock more merciless than the last, the strike of his hips jostling your entire body up the mattress, just barely held in place by the grip of his claws, razored points puncturing your flesh and scraping, tiny trickles of blood oozing from the lacerations.
“Your mind, your cunt, your fucking soul—it all belongs to me,” digitized blood drips from the corner of his mouth, the glaring glow of his eyes so brilliant it’s hard to bear, casting a flare of red across your skin.
“Yes, yes, y-yes,” you’re babbling out, gone delirious with the heady intoxication of pain and pleasure, fingers digging into his flesh in a desperate attempt to pull him closer. “You own me, Vox.” 
“Oh, Christ—” 
The confirmation has him cumming quickly, hips pressed flush to your ass as his cock throbs violently, stuffing you full with copious amounts of thick, burning cum. His body stills, keeping his hips shoved up against you, almost as if he’s trying to plug you, to keep his seed inside of you, to claim you from the inside out. 
But it’s so much—too much—and you can feel it exuding past his shaft to dribble down your skin, leaving behind streams of pretty pearlescent strokes.  
Finally, he pulls out of you, another cracked curse falling from his lips as he watches with a sort of sordid obsession, his cock glazed with his cum and your blood, the tops of his thighs smeared with his own essence. 
“So beautiful,” he whispers to himself, claw reaching out to trace the V again, a hiss spit from between your teeth, body trembling with the effort to stay still, to resist flinching away from his stinging touch, to be good for him. “So fucking perfect.” 
Slinking down the bed, he wedges his head between your spread thighs to inspect the wound more thoroughly, teal tongue unfurling from his mouth to lave over the deep cut, mopping up excess blood as he follows the contours carefully once, twice, three times.  
“Mine,” he murmurs, planting a gentle kiss atop the wound, sealing the breathy claim into your flesh. “Mine, forever.”
“Yours,” you whisper, looking down at him as your finger outlines the V affectionately, a loving caress of what he’s gifted you. “Yours, forever.”
531 notes · View notes
rafeandonlyrafe · 2 months
Text
gamers
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words: 800
warnings: vague descriptions of video game violence and gore, established relationship
“is it scary? i don't wanna play if it's scary.” you pout as rafe places the controller into your hand.
“ill protect you, promise.” rafe says, reaching over to flick the lamp on the side table on, that way more than just the light from the tv is illuminating the room.
“fine, but you can't get mad at me if i get your character killed.” you watch as rafe navigates the game easily, opening it up to the character customization screen, just doing default settings for himself.
“oh my god, im gonna make my girl look so cute!” you gush, taking your time to carefully choose her hair and outfit, even though none of the options are stylish, you create the best look you can out of the post apocalyptic clothing choices.
rafe doesn't care that he has to sit and wait for you to perfect your character, not when he finally got you to agree to play with him.
“okay, done.” you nod as you choose a pair of pink sneakers, practical but still cute. “so what's this game all about? just running from zombies?”
“basically.” rafe says with a light chuckle. “we gotta get to the safe house for this round. just follow me, gonna pick up some weapons.”
you pick up the hang of the controls easily, concentrating on the tv as rafe drops a knife and gun for character to use to protect yourself just in case.
“this isn't so bad.” you hum, pausing to admire the scenery in the background of the game, mountain peaks poking up into the sky. “where are all the zombies?”
“they give you a few minutes to get weapons before the storms start.” rafe says, eyes scanning the screen as you head into a building, rafe knows there's med packs in there that he will need when he sustains damage keeping your character safe.
“storms? that sounds scary rafe.” you scooch so you’re closer to your boyfriend. “and it's getting dark.”
it's already dark outside your actual window, but you can tell that it's getting darker in the game as well, the sun setting as you follow rafe down the desolate street, crashed cars and trash strewn about just like if it was a real apocalypse.
“here they come!” rafe warns, clicking the buttons quickly as his character shoots at the zombies moving slowly towards you. your eyes widen upon seeing the gore, cringing and turning to hide your face in rafes shoulder once your character is hidden behind a stopped car.
“i don't like this rafey!” you whine once the gunfire stops, peeking up to see a literal pile of dead zombies. “it's scary.”
“i know, but i kept you safe, didn't i? we are almost done with the first level, just gotta get to the safe house then we can take a break, okay?” rafe offers, keeping his eyes on the screen but turning his head to press a kiss to your cheek.
“fine.” you groan. you like playing games with rafe, but your preference is him watching you dress your sims or decorate their houses after using a cheat to get them more money, only wanting your sims to have the best furniture.
you navigate your character to follow him down the sidewalk, occasionally stopping to kill the zombies. you even manage to shoot a couple.
“wait, baby, be careful.” rafe warns. “dont go that way.”
but his warning comes too late as a zombie jumps out of a dumpster that you’re standing directly next to, making you scream as it takes up your entire screen, not just attacking your character but also jumpscaring you.
“i got you, hold on.” rafe is pressing the sprint button as hard as he can, as if that can somehow make his character get to you faster. rafe manages to kill the zombie before it has the chance to bite you.
your chest is heaving up and down like you were the one to get attacked. “come on, the safe house is just around the corner.” rafe wraps an arm around your shoulder, using one hand on the controller until you’re both behind the barbed wire fence, the game switching to a cutscene. 
“i hate this.” you look to rafe with a pout on your face. “can we play stardew valley instead? please?”
rafe sighs. he should have known better than having you play with him. you are extremely adverse to any sort of shooting game. “yeah, sure.” rafe saves his progress, just in case he can convince you to play with him again before switching to stardew valley and handing you the main controller.
“yesss, thank you.” you smile, pressing a kiss to rafes cheek as your character wakes up. “you’re the best boyfriend ever.”
“you just say that because you need me to go into the mines for you.” rafe says with a laugh.
“well, its scary!”
taglist: @winterrrnight @bejeweledreverie @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie @tobesolovelysstuff @alexiskirkland @rafestar @brioffthegrid @juniebugg @magicalyoura @die4niyahhh
485 notes · View notes
roseykat · 9 months
Text
-MASTERLIST-
Hello, my name is Rose and welcome to my masterlist! Here you’ll find all of my works released and yet to be released. I write mainly smut but I may or may not post wholesome/soft content and also angst in the future!
Most of my posts will have an icon beside the story title to indicate which story is R18/smut based. If there is no star beside the title, then the story is not smut and is safe to read. All of my works will be linked to the tag 'rosiewritesskz' here on Tumblr! Happy reading!
♡ - SMUT
☆ - ANGST/SLIGHT ANGST
BANG CHAN
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Same coin, different faces - KINKTOBER23 ♡
Open Game ♡ - yet to be released
Napalm Hazard ♡ - yet to be released
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LEE KNOW
Barb Wired Brat ♡
Siphoned Guilt ♡
Venom Biter ♡
Venom Eater ♡
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CHANGBIN
These hands were made for you - KINKTOBER23 ♡
Brown Eyes Don’t Pry ♡
Solitude for an extrovert - yet to be released
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HYUNJIN
Loss of Inhibition ♡
Like Throwing Petrol on a Fire KINKTOBER23 ♡
Shutterfly Butterfly ♡ - yet to be released
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HAN
Hell's Baby - KINKTOBER23 ♡
Milk and Honey ♡ - yet to be released
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FELIX
Marzipan, Cherries, and Whipped Cream - KINKTOBER23 ♡
Unripe Strawberries ☆ + ♡ - yet to be released
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SEUNGMIN
If the collar fits KINKTOBER23
Don't bite the hand that feeds you - KINKTOBER23 ♡
Foul Play - Part 2 to Don’t bite the hand that feeds you ♡
Monsoon Seasons' Driftwood ☆ - yet to be released
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JEONGIN
Weeding out the weak - KINKTOBER23 ♡
Table Manners and Bible Studies KINKTOBER23 ♡
Table Manners and Bible Studies Pt 2 ♡
Savoury Love ☆ - yet to be released
OT8 BLURBS
How they are when they cum ♡
Calling him ‘daddy’ ♡
How they eat you out ♡
Hyung line reacting to making you squirt - KINKTOBER23 ♡
Maknae line reacting to making you squirt - KINKTOBER23 ♡
Phone Sex - KINKTOBER23 ♡
SKZ’s favourite type of lingerie on you ♡
Sexual habits ♡
SKZ members and their Kinks ♡
SKZ members as submissives’ ♡
How he talks to you during sex ♡
Favourite positions ♡ - yet to be released
The type of porn content creators they are ♡ - yet to be released
Blowjobs ♡ - yet to be released
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PAIRINGS
Tempest Needs - Minsung x reader ♡
Eat, sleep, play - Minsung x reader (KINKTOBER23) ♡
Some things are better left unknown - Chanlix x reader (KINKTOBER23) ♡
Noxious Compulsions - Minsung x reader ♡ - yet to be released
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KINKTOBERLIST23
PLAY BITE SERIES - Hyunsung + reader
Part 1 - Play Bite ♡
Part 2 - Play Fight ♡
Part 3 - Play Right ♡
Part 4 - Play Tight ♡
Part 5 - Play Night ♡
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HARD THOUGHTS/ANON INBOXES
Bang Chan #1 ♡
Bang Chan #2 ♡
Minho #1 ♡
Minsung threesome♡
Minsung ♡
Felix fingering you ♡
Minsung #1 ♡
Changbin ♡
1K notes · View notes
honeydazai · 2 years
Text
when you say their dick is too big
feat.: Diluc, Kaeya, Childe, Zhongli, Itto, Scaramouche, Ayato, Albedo, Xiao
warnings: nsfw content, size difference, dacryphilia, degradation, praise, breeding kink, choking, Itto has a knot and barbs on his cock, Zhongli has two dicks
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DILUC stops immediately when you tell him to — hurting you is the last thing he wants —, though he can't help but chuckle when you, teary-eyed, tell him that his dick is too big and that it won't fit. He quickly shushes you with a gentle kiss, his smile warm and loving as he reassures you that it'll be fine, he'll try to be as careful as possible.
Even though he tries to go slow for your comfort, he groans in pleasure when he finally bottoms out inside of you, your hips flush together, and while he had originally planned to give you some time to adjust to his size, he can't help but pick up a fast and hard pace a few moments later, because what you don't know is that your words sent a white hot spike of pleasure up his spine. His size kink is thriving, especially when there's a slight bulge showing through your stomach as he thrusts into you.
“You're alright, dear. It'll fit, don't worry. Ah, fuck—, you feel so tight around me. Archons, you can even see my dick through your stomach — fuck.”
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When you complain to KAEYA about his cock being too large to fit inside of you, he genuinely can't help but laugh. You're adorable — really, he's at a loss of words here. There's a smile on his lips as he tells you that you'll be alright, and he doesn't bother to stop pushing into you; giving you time to breathe would only result in you overthinking even more. Besides, he knows you'll be fine.
When he finally pounds into you, his hips slapping against your own with lewd squelching noises accompanying each thrust, you're moaning and keening, your back arching, and there's mocking words and teasing sentences falling from Kaeya's lips before he can stop himself, but, really, who can blame him? Just a moment ago, you were protesting and worrying, and now you're taking his dick like a champ — it's almost ironic, really.
“Ah, look at you, darling. Weren't you just whining about my dick being too big for you? Now you're practically sucking me in. That's adorable. Makes me wonder if that innocent persona of you was but an act, doll.”
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CHILDE has got you bent in half in a mating press when you whine about him being too big, his dick being too deep inside of you, and he couldn't deny that your words made his cock twitch inside of you even if he tried. He scoffs, obviously amused, and it's such a huge ego boost that he thrusts into you roughly, his hips flush with yours as he bottoms out in one quick movement that has you gasping and crying out.
There's some half-assed shushing from him as he assures you that it's fine, you'll be alright, but in reality, you're barely able to understand what he's saying with the almost violent pace he has set and he knows it. You're drooling while he pounds into you, saliva dripping down your chin, and Childe isn't shy to mock you for how desperate you look. By the end of it, he makes sure you're literally dripping with his cum.
“Fuck, babe, that's so hot—, you think I'm too big for your tight little hole, hm? Don't you worry, baby, I'll fill you up so good. You'll be fine—, ah, fuck, I promise, just let me make you feel good. Just let me breed you.”
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ZHONGLI raises his eyebrows when you complain about his size in a seriously worried tone, but he's quick to shush you despite not understanding why you seem to have trouble taking only one of his cocks. The other one is resting against your abdomen as he slowly but surely continues to push into you, the tip of it dripping precum onto your skin.
While he's constantly praising you for how well you're taking him, he can't help that he enjoys seeing your eyes all glassy with tears, and his thoughts immediately go to how you'd cry and whine under him if he were to fuck you with both dicks, only to fill you up and breed you.
“You're so good for me, darling. You take me so well. In fact, I'm quite certain you'd even be able to take both of my cocks if you'd like to try.”
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Honestly, ITTO is used to this kind of reaction. He's a big guy all around, which is why it doesn't come as a surprise when you claw at his back and whimper about him not being able to fit inside of you. Still, while he understands your worries, he's too much into it to stop now; he can't help that he continues to push into you until you're stretched wide around his dick.
He at least has the decency to apologise while thrusting into you, his hips slapping against your ass, even though he gets a massive ego boost from the way you're crying out. His apologies don't make it better — especially because his size isn't the only thing you have to deal with. What's much more difficult to take are the barbs on his cock, as well as his knot once he fills you up, but what can he say; he's an oni through and through and his biology is intent on breeding you.
“Ah, baby, fuck, 'm sorry, I don't wanna hurt you, fuck, I promise, you just feel so good, can't stop, please, babe, I need to fill you up—”
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Honestly, SCARAMOUCHE thinks of you as ridiculously naive for even hoping that he'll be merciful when you blabber something about his cock being too big. You're on all fours underneath him, cheek against the ground and ass raised, and he's not above taunting you as he repeats your whiny plea in a mocking, high-pitched voice.
As if inspired by your words, he thrusts into you at once, his pace rougher than it needs to be solely because he wants to see you cry on his cock, your cheeks flushing and your eyes crossing as you clench around him. When he feels particularly mean, he even wraps a hand around your throat, if only to hear your high-pitched keening noises as you choke and whine, your thighs trembling and tears dripping down your cheeks.
“What are you saying? It won't fit? Oh, I'll make it fit, don't you worry. Besides, you're already dripping wet. Fucking slut. This is the only thing you're good for, so shut up and take what I decide to give you.”
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While AYATO is quick to coo soothing words at you, his voice a low purr and with his hands gently caressing the curve of your hip, his lips also curl into a smirk. You can't see the way his eyes sparkle with mischief and something more sinister because of your position — your cheek pressed against the pillows, your back arched and ass raised —, but that his polite words are just a facade is obvious in the way his hips snap against yours.
The urge to make you cry just because of his cock makes his movements more hurried and rough, his usual effortless grace bleeding away into impatience and brutal thrusts. His nails dig into your hips as he rocks into you until your thighs are shaking and tears drip down your flushed cheeks, needy noises falling from your lips, and Ayato can't help that he wants nothing more than to truly break you.
“Oh, am I too big for you, love? Are you saying you can't take it? That'd be a shame, I was hoping to have you come on my cock. Ah, there you go — look, it fits. You're such a slut in reality, hm, darling?”
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ALBEDO pauses the second you whine about his dick being too big to fit inside of you, his head cocked to the side in a curious manner as his gaze meets your teary eyes. While he's an attentive and observant lover, he also can't deny that his cock twitches inside of you at hearing you say that.
He tells you matter-of-factly that there's no need to worry, that your body is quite literally made for this and that it's obvious in the way your cunt is basically sucking him in, before continuing to push in until he bottoms out, your hips flush together. If you haven't relaxed until then, he's honestly at a loss of what to do, though a feeling of pride spreads through his veins when you finally moan and mewl in pleasure rather than in fear. He just loves being correct.
“Oh? Look at you, dripping wet around my dick. Didn't I tell you you were going to be alright? You're literally made to take my dick, love, and it seems you're a natural at it, too.”
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When you first tell him to stop, please, that his dick is never going to fit inside of you, XIAO scoffs, his eyebrows drawn together into a frown. For a moment, he genuinely thinks you're making fun of him, though he quickly stops moving when he notices that there's tears welling up in your eyes.
The last thing he wants is to hurt you, which is why he pauses immediately. It doesn't matter how aroused he is, your comfort is his top priority, which is why he'll only continue once you give him the consent to. Even when he finally bottoms out inside of you, his hips flush with yours and with you mewling underneath him, he checks in on you to make sure you're alright.
“Fuck, I—, please, love, are you alright? Tell me. How are you feeling? May I continue? Fuck, you're so damn tight around me.”
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notes: more genshin filth more genshin filth
tags: @black-rose-29 @ibby-miyoshi-nerd @kaz-zuha @serenareiss
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