#demon!maul

[dennypanne]

Am I the only one, or is there someone else out there, who wants to make a deal with Demon!Maul?

My deal would look like this:

Some fuckhead warlock stole my powers

I summon Maul as protection

And in return he get to fuck me as often as he wants and wherever he wants

Why he would want that? Who cares! I'm not asking, I just accept... I'm a slut for Demon! Maul🥵🥵🥵

[maulslittlemeowmeow]

What Goes On In Here

Chapter 3

Warnings: Haunting, spoopy otherworldly being, nightmares

Summary: You’re armed to the teeth with reading materials and a fighting spirit. Fuck this ghost bitch, you’re coming for it.

Pairing: Demon!Maul x Witch!Reader (cis female)

WC: 1503

After probably too many lattes for your already frayed nerves, you return to your apartment with several purchases in tow. It is right as you step through the threshold that another one of those feelings washes over you. It is unpleasant; sticky, thick, nauseating. You slam your door shut and look around the place angrily. You want to shout, try to shoo it away, but you know it won’t work. You have some studying to do.

You bring out the book you had been reading at the coffee shop and move back towards your bed. The only place in your apartment you feel safe enough to practice.

Once you settle in bed, you flip back to the page you had been reading. Energy control. The lesson detailed that in order to perform any sort of spell, you would need to be able to transfer your energy throughout your body to specific places or parts of your body. It is explained easily enough, though you are admittedly nervous. After another quick read-through, you lay flat on your back with your palms flat beside you and close your eyes. In the lesson, you are meant to feel the well of energy within you and try to siphon some to your various extremities. 

It takes a good while before you identify the tingling feeling in your chest as your well of energy, and longer still to try to move it about. You’re focusing so hard on your task that you don’t notice how the energy around you shifts - no longer is there an unpleasant feeling as before; no, now the feeling of satisfaction and excitement is back. When you are able to move energy to your fingertips, something in the air crackles near your head. You try to ignore it, figuring it to be the Being’s doing. But the longer you practice, the more adept you become with this lesson, the more you feel the energy in the room change. You’re suddenly very aware that the energy in the room is moving - for lack of a better term. It is humming, almost vibrating; it feels the same as when a cat lays across you and purrs. It’s surprisingly…comforting. Pleasant.

It is pleased with you. 

That thought should be more alarming to you, but you reason that you would rather it be pleased with you than not. It isn’t attacking you, at least. It is allowing you to go about your business. 

Time for the next lesson. You sit up again and flip through some pages, finding a page with a beautifully rendered apple sketched in the center of the page. This lesson is all about visualization, as it will be necessary for many spells as well as any future meditation or astral projection. The student is to picture something simple - such as an apple - in their mind’s eye, and attempt to get a perfect image of it, move it around on its axis, imagine it in other environments. You lay down again and close your eyes. This lesson proves to be more difficult for you. There are a few times that you think of giving up, but every time you open your eyes, that pleasant vibration seems to grow more erratic, and the feeling pushes you back into the practice. 

Behind closed, twitching eyelids you hold a fuzzy image of a red apple. You can almost picture the shine on it, the little stem, the variations of the color near the top. As the details come into focus, that purring sensation drips over your skin, and something else appears behind the apple in your vision. Red like the apple, something is moving behind it, coming towards it. Your breathing quickens as you make out the distinctive shape of clawed fingers reaching towards the fruit. You’re trembling as the fingers close around your focus, pulling it back towards the inky darkness at the edge of your vision; towards something… Something that shifts and widens, revealing a writhing tongue and pointed teeth. You know those teeth. The wound at your shoulder burns as you watch the teeth bite into the apple - you can hear the crunch - and you see the juice drip over plush lips; you follow the drip of juice as it seems to reveal more of the being in front of you, just a sliver of an onyx throat. The throat bobs as it swallows and you pull yourself from your visualization with a start, sitting up a little too fast and gasping for breath. 

Just like in the cave, you hear something when there is no sound. You do not hear anything in your bedroom, and yet the sound bounces around in your head as if it was all around you, as if whispered into your ear as a secret.

Laughter.

The sound is sharp and so taunting, that it brings tears to your eyes. You hastily wipe them away and reach for your book, flipping through pages rapidly as you try to find something to make this stop. 

You come upon a page with an image of a person surrounded by what looks like light. A protection spell? A Shield. You try to absorb as much of the lesson as you can with that heinous cackling filling your mind. Surround yourself with energy. Picture that energy as a forcefield. Intention is key. 

You follow those instructions, unconsciously curling your body into a tight ball and closing your eyes, placing your hands over your ears as you try to envision your energy as a bubble around your body. You struggle and search for the willpower to fuel the bubble and keep the Being out.

It is quiet.

You open your eyes again, trying to hold the shield with all your concentration as you look around. You can’t feel any of the phantom sensations anymore, and the laughing has stopped. Now the tears you shed come with a disbelieving, breathless laugh. You smile wide, looking around the room, seeing and feeling nothing.

This time, the sound you hear is outside of your mind; in fact, you think you hear it in the same corner you had seen the deep shadow the night before. The same bone-rattling snarl you heard in the cave. It is followed by heavy, retreating footsteps and the sudden slamming of your bedroom door.

You yelp in fear and curl in on yourself again, your hands covering your head protectively. You refuse to move, even as you begin to feel famished and exhausted - your body beginning to feel faint - you hold that shield. You hold it until you cannot keep your eyes open any longer.

You wish you could say this was a dreamless sleep. At first, one might think it to be so, considering no images conjure within the obsidian wasteland that is your subconscious mind. But you know better. You can feel Him.

“Oh, come now. You were doing so well at visualizing me while you were awake. Try harder.”

His voice moves as if he is circling you, like some sort of hungry beast. 

“Poor little witchling… overworked herself so she could hide from me, only to face me in her dreams.” He hisses, sounding closer now. “You can’t run from me here, witchling. You’re not nearly powerful enough to be rid of me.”

That tickling sensation is back, raking over your shoulder and neck. You can’t move, you can’t speak - you can only watch in horror as the hand you’d seen in your vision traces a clawed finger down your arm. 

“There we are, look how well you are doing.” He cooes, just beside your head. “Would you like to see my face, little witch?”

You want to scream, push him away, shake your head - anything. But you can’t, you’re held by unseen bindings in the darkness as you feel his presence shift around you again. Without realizing it, you manifest the cold silver eyes you’d seen reflected back at you in the cave. They change shape, the lids surrounding them closing and turning them to half-moons, squinted with amusement and you hear him chuckle.

“Close, but not quite. Let me help you.” He rumbles pleasantly. Your shoulder burns as the energy crackles and pushes down on you, like hands grasping at something deep in your chest.

Close enough that you might have felt his breath, the silver eyes appear before you. The milky reflection warms, melting from the inside out, a blazing gold appearing as they defrost. They are so close that you can make out the ring of crimson around the rim of the irises, and every bloodshot vein surrounding them. 

You wake with a strangled gasp, your hands immediately shooting out in front of you as if to push something away. Even in this moment, your movements feel sluggish with exhaustion. Your whole body feels so heavy, like every movement takes every fiber of your being to produce. And to top it all off, you're starving.

-----

Previous Chapter x x x Next Chapter

I know I should have uploaded the next chapter of Catch Me First, but Demon!Maul has me in a chokehold and I’ve lost all self control, so here he is once again!

As always, thank you to @eloquentmoon​ for the constant support and also for beta-ing this chapter~

If you would like to read more of my work, you can check out my Masterlist  or my AO3. If you would like to be added to my taglist, shoot me a message!

Taglist:

@eyecandyeoz​ @kimageddon​ @misogirl828​ @mooremooo​ @always-on-tatooine​

[bacarasbabe]

Prompt list created by @the-purity-pen. Some days I decided to use different prompts. I will not be using my main tag list for this. You can also block the tag #bacarasbabeKinktober.

Fill out this form to be added to my tag list.

Currently in Progress

Read on AO3

Spotify Playlist

Day 0 - Prologue

Day 1 - Face-sitting

Day 2 - Against a wall

Day 3 - Hair-pulling

Day 4 - Spanking

Day 5 - Sixty-nine

Day 6 - Rimming/Analingus

Day 7 - Roleplay

Day 8 - Seduction

Day 9 - Forced orgasm

Day 10 - Praise kink || Gagging || Hickey/biting marks

Day 11 - Sleepy sex

Day 12 - Begging

Day 13 - Edging/Orgasm Denial

Day 14 - Shower

Day 15 - Masturbation

Day 16 - Lingerie

Day 17 - Breast worship

Day 18 - Cock worship

Day 19 - Impact Play

Day 20 - Interlude

Day 21 - Rough Sex

Day 22 - Hellhound

*********

Chapter 23 -

[quicontent]

Why Was Darth Maul One of the Greatest Characters Ever Created

From the first attack on Tattooine that knocked the wind out of Qui-Gon to the trio battle between Darth Maul, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and Qui-Gon Jinn, Darth Maul proves himself.

Why Was Darth Maul One of the Greatest Characters Ever Created

His first appearance was in Phantom Menace. He's one of the best Star Wars characters ever shown in the Clone Wars and Rebels series.

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

Simping for Demon Maul again! 48 please?

“I’m in heat./ I’m horny. ”

A/N: One more Demon!Maul AU for the road.  Just think of them as all the same reader.  I know I do. 

You woke up to a familiar hands running down the length of your body.  They were hot and rough, slipping under your sleep shirt and setting fire to your skin.

Blinking awake you were met with hungry golden eyes illuminated by the pale light of the moon.  To anyone else, the sudden appearance of a red and black skinned demon hovering above them in bed would have been the stuff of nightmares.  But to you, it was a welcome sight.

“Maul,” you whispered, your voice rough with sleep.  “What are you doing here?”

He didn’t answer.  His hands continued to wander.  Moving up your body, he easily pulled your shirt off leaving you bare save for you panties. 

A feral moan peeled from his lips.  The air around you grew thick and heavy. It was only then you noticed, he was completely naked. 

As if in a daze he took his ridged cock in his hand, pumping slowly. He was already hard.  His breath was hard and labored, as if it was taking everything in him not to just fuck his hand.

You had never seen him this desperate before.  Even when he became lost between your legs, fucking you into oblivion,  you never lost the sense he was still in control of himself.  This was different.  This was all instinct.

A ache came between your legs. What you would do to feel him lose control inside you.

“Maul,” you said, your throat dry. 

He grunted at the sound of his name, gripping hard at the base of his cock.

“I’m in heat,” he said in a rasp.  “I need...I need you.  I need to be inside you.  I need to bury myself in you.  Please my love. I...”

He let out a shout of pain, almost doubling over.  Again he started to stroke his cock with seemed to relieve it for the moment.

You had a lot of questions, but it was obvious now wasn’t the best time.  Maul needed you and you’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t need him.

“You have me,” you said.  “Take me.”

A low growl of approval came form deep in his chest. 

With a flick of his wrist, your panties were torn from you body.

Throwing all shame out the window, you immediately spread your legs, slowing him exactly how wet he had already made you from watching.

He gave a soft grown.  “All for me.”

In a second he was on you, his hot length spearing into you.

You screamed into the night.  His cock split you open, stretching you to the point of pain, made up for by touching every sensitive part of you.  It burned inside you making you just as desperate as him.

He barely gave you time to adjust before he started fucking you in earnest.

Your headboard slammed against the wall with every thrust.  The sounds that came from your mouths were debauched.  This was nothing less than pure animalistic fucking and damn your soul to hell if you weren’t loving every second of it.

Kinktober 2020 Masterlist

[justalittletomato]

Full Moon (Demon Maul an Witch Reader) short drabble

HAPPY HALLOWEEN YALL!!!! 🎃

A full moon.

And on Halloween no less.

Your fingers itch with the amount of power you feel imbued to you on this night. but you have no enemies or hexes to act on tonight.

The room you have chosen for this was once a grand ballroom, you could picture the many dances and the chandelier aglow. your hand moves to lift it from its broken state to life again, its ember lights now tinged with orange instead.

You let it rise back to its proper place under the glass ceiling. and begin to finish the circle on the marble floor.

The summoning circle is meant to be small allowing the summoned demon to have some room to move but not outside the confines.

That will not due with your plans tonight.

Your attire is changed  from your usual garb. Now you dressed in a red gown that flowed and trailed behind you, your shoulders exposed on this final night of October. The chill did not bother you soon you’d be warm in the embrace of you lover.

Now to summon him.

You make the call, tonight you did not sway from the use go your magic, there was no effort this night.

Maul stands in the middle of the circle, dressed in a sharp black suit. his tie this night the same red of your gown and perfectly matching his crimson skin. you can feel your face warm at the sight of him, your beautiful demon. He smirks at the look on your face,  “ Y/N. You’ve outdone yourself” he looks you over, “And you are stunning tonight, not that you aren’t usually but tonight you are enchanting. What’s the occasion?”

“ It’s Halloween. Anything can happen tonight.” you say.

He looks at your handy work, the summoning circle beyond anything you had ever done.

“ I can see,” he offers his hand to you, you take it gladly.

He pulls you close, “ Can I  have my kiss?” he inquires.

You scoff, “ You never stop at one,” your lips are on his, it had been too long since you’d seen him. Your lips are buzzing as you pull away Maul still kissing  down your neck and exposed shoulders, “ I’ve missed you.” he groans as he gently bites dow, “ What plans do you have for me?” you know he’s trying to suggest something more. 

You try not to moan, “ I thought since its Halloween and my magic is beyond its normal limits-“

Maul nods, “ We wreak havoc on the populace a little later?”  his answer is sincere and your usual plan.  

You moan and then chuckle, “ Not tonight!”  you twirl your other hand, the instruments you brought along begin to play. “ I want to dance with you under the full moon…I just want to be in your arms tonight.”

He pulls way to look at you, his witch, all in red and under the full moon. You're a vision, and all his. To dance with you on this night, that would be hauntingly beautiful.

“All night?” He already has a hand at the small of your back, the other moves to take hold of your hand.

Your heart quickens, “Well we could save time for other things, but for now yes.” He’s already moving you to begin. You are pressed against his chest and his lips against the shell of your ear.

“A perfect plan, my little Witch,”  

The two of you move in tune with the music, the light from the chandelier above and the full moon aglow on this Halloween night.

Happy Halloween! Go be spooky!

[maulslittlemeowmeow]

What Goes On In Here

Chapter 2

Warnings: hospitalization, panic attacks, nightmares, harassment via haunting, spooky scary otherworldly being

Summary: You wake up, not where you thought you would. When you sleep again, it He makes another appearance.

Pairing: Demon!Maul x Witch!Reader (cis female)

WC: 1490

Waking up in the hospital is a trip. You always see it happen in tv shows and movies, but you’d always thought the actors were overselling it. Nope. You are extremely confused for a solid few minutes before you try to sit up and you feel the distinctive stiffness of bandages over your shoulder and head. You pull at the scratchy gown to look down at the gauze on your shoulder, then hear the door to your room slide open. 

The nurse introduces himself and explains your treatment, then asks you what you remember. You take a few moments, trying to make sense of what you saw. No one was going to believe you, and if you told them the truth, you’d be in here a lot longer for observation than you would be with just your concussion.

“I was hiking and… I came across a homeless encampment. One of them was very violent. I was able to make it back to the parking lot but I passed out.” You lie, the story sounding reasonable enough in your own fuzzy mind.

The nurse seems to believe you as well. He explains that they will keep you for observation for the rest of the night and then if everything seems normal, you will be discharged. With all of that settled, you are left with your thoughts. You look around the room to see your belongings in a bag on a bedside table. You find your phone.

There is a crack spider-webbing from one corner. Your breath hitches as you run a finger over the crack and feel the slightly raised edge of glass. Luckily, it still functions fine, but staring at the ruined screen just makes you anxious, so you set it back on the table and look up at the television. The volume is too low to hear what is happening in the show that is playing, but having something to focus on helps the minutes tick by.

-0-0-0-0-0-

Returning to your apartment seems to bring you back to reality. The whole day seems so distant and dramatic that you still honestly wonder if it happened or if it was some sort of hallucination. Hearing the locks on your door click hurtles you back into clear consciousness for the first time in hours. You rest your forehead against the cool wood of your door and feel your eyes widen an almost painful amount as you stare down at your feet.

Your breathing quickens, as does your heart rate and you slide down to your knees. You feel like you need to get out of your own skin, like you want to rip it from your bones and escape the prison of your physical being as it curls in on itself and shakes with full bodied tremors. Your body and mind aren’t safe, nowhere is safe - you’re exposed. You turn and press your back against your front door and bring your knees to your chest, your leggings absorbing some of your tears as they stream down your hot cheeks.

Somehow, amongst the terror of your panic attack, there is a feeling that settles over you. A feeling of satisfaction - it is not your own. It feels as if you are being watched, similar to if you were performing on stage and can feel an applause waiting for the moment you finish your line; electric, buzzing, excited. The realization only makes you choke on your sobs. What is this? 

You crawl on your hands and knees to your bedroom and into bed. The blankets are pulled up over your head and somehow gives you a sense of security, which allows you to finally pass out after the long day you’ve had.

It’s here. No, he’s here. You somehow know that the thing lurking in the shadows of your dream is a he. You can feel him, circling you, chasing you through the woods again. You’re tripping over brambles and clawing your way through what feels like an endless thicket of brush, but you get no closer to safety. He’s always just behind you. 

“Just let me in,” he cooes, you can feel his breath on your neck.

Your limbs are beginning to feel sluggish, betraying you as you continue to try to flee this being. It doesn’t matter how far you go, how desperately you climb through this unyielding forest, he’s always right there. You can almost feel his frustration, falling over you like a heavy blanket, only slowing you further.

“I will continue to hunt you. I will not stop. Accept me.”

His voice is all around you, shocking through your system and-

You shoot forward, sitting up in your bed with such force that you nearly fall forward on your hands and knees. Your breath comes to you in ragged gasps. Your skin is sticky with sweat. The wound at your shoulder throbs and screams with every movement. It’s dark in your room, but you swear the shadows in the corners seem deeper, like something is hiding in it. You quickly reach for your phone with shaky hands and shine your flashlight around your room, finding nothing amiss. 

Turning on the lamp at your bedside gives you a crumb of security. Settling back against your headboard, you immediately run to the internet.

How to get rid of unwanted presences?

You type into your search engine, finding youtube videos and articles and all manner of websites both legitimate and what you consider otherwise. After a few hours of perusing you see enough self proclaimed “witches” claiming you shouldn’t trust anything you read on the internet and you huff in frustration. You change your search.

Best books for a beginning witch.

You feel ridiculous even typing it. But you sift through a few websites and read dozens of reviews and cross reference a few, settling on a few books. You could order them online, but there is no telling how bad things will get in that time. You don’t even know if you’ll find what you need in these books, but you need to try something. So you look for any local shops that may carry them. A shop in the next town carries most of the ones you’re looking for, and it opens in a few hours.

Now you just have to wait. Easier said than done, but having the lights on helps a bit. You don’t dare leave the “safety”  of your bed. When the sun rises and fills your apartment with light, you feel comfortable enough to get up and get dressed. You force yourself to eat some toast, though it just churns in your stomach as you finally exit your apartment. 

-0-0-0-0-0-

The bookstore is exactly what you would expect. Small, tucked away, cozy. It’s nestled between a clothing boutique and a deli. There is a string of bells hanging from the inside doorknob that jingles when you enter, alerting the shopkeep to your presence. You see the balding man in a sweater leaning around one of the many bookshelves stuffed tightly into the small space. 

“Hi there,” he greets you with a careful smile, “Is there something I can help you find?”

Your first instinct is to say “no”, embarrassed with your book choices, but then remind yourself that he will have to ring you up anyhow.

“Yes,” you mumble, pulling your phone out of your pocket and approaching him. He adjusts his glasses on the bridge of his nose as you near him, peering down at the list of books you had saved in your online shopping cart. “Do you have any of these?” 

The shopkeep nods quietly and leads you to a bookshelf against one of the side walls. You see many thick tomes of beautiful hues and many with glittering script on their spines. You’re entranced as the man starts pulling books from the tops of their spines, making a neat stack over his arm. 

“These are what we have from your list. Is there anything else I can help you with?” He asks politely, offering you a warm smile. There is no judgment in his gaze, only the happiness of potentially selling a handful of books in one go. You were sure small shops like this ran off of purchases like this, so you couldn’t help but be a little pleased; especially considering he was kind enough not to judge you on your reading choices or the bandages still wrapped around your head. You follow him to the counter to make your purchases and leave a few dollars in the basket at the front labeled “for the shop cat” with a picture of a fluffy orange and white feline.

You don’t want to return to your apartment yet, so instead you walk up the street to the cafe you had passed and order a drink, finding an armchair to nestle into as you pull one of the books from your bag.

-----

Previous Chapter x x x Next Chapter

This chapter sets a good tone for how a lot of this story will go. Demon!Maul is a BUTT, and basically just makes Reader’s life a living hell. A Haunty-Taunty-Butthead.

If you would like to read more of my work, you can check out my Masterlist or my AO3. If you would like to be added to my taglist, shoot me a message!

Taglist:

@eyecandyeoz @kimageddon @misogirl828 @mooremooo @always-on-tatooine​ @eloquentmoon​

[bacarasbabe]

Beat the Devil's Tattoo - Prologue

<- Masterlist || Day 1 ->

[This work was edited on 8/14/2023]

Rating: M

Word Count: 1,400+

Pairing: Demon!Maul x Witch!Reader

Tags: Blood, witchcraft, demon, magic, mentions of contractual sex, making a deal with a demon

Notes: I want to thank all of my lovely mutuals and my beloved friends. All of you have always encouraged me and inspired me. Not only do I owe my original version of this story to you, but this updated version as well. You make me a better person and writer. 

I don’t have an update schedule for this story. I’m posting it as I see fit.  DM me if you want to be tagged or fill out this form. My original tag list is so old that I’d rather just redo it.

Chalk dust coats your fingertips, painting your clothing and skin. Ghostly trails of your absentminded touch. It doesn’t matter. In fact, it's the furthest thing from your mind as you meticulously focus all of your attention to the intricacies of the white lines that now crisscross the dark wood of your living room floor. Your area rug sits rolled up behind your couch, tucked out of the way to make room for the intimidating symbol. It’s the first time you’ve tried casting a summoning spell of this magnitude, both in power and size, so the details must be perfect. Every intricate line is double-checked as you practice the incantation in your mind. It takes some time, not nearly as long as the many hours it took you to draw the thing, but finally you’re satisfied. It’s by far your best work. It has to be, and not just because you had practiced the design for months. Any error you made now, the slightest deviation, even the smallest tremor in your hand as you drew the complex geometrical patterns, could end up costing you far more than what you were willing to sacrifice. 

Finished with the chalking, you move on to lighting the candles. Every wax pillar that’s been saved for ritual purposes like tonight, every seasonal candle for any holiday, every candle purchased with a two-for-one coupon has been dug out for tonight’s spell. Hopefully you don’t have any scents that clash with each other but there’s not much you can do about it now as you go from wick to wick. The sulfur smell of the match you use begins to stoke nostalgic feelings before they’re swiftly tamped down by nerves. It is very nearly the witching hour. Just a few minutes to go, enough time to place a circle of salt for protection around the soon to be portal.

Five minutes.

You close the box of salt but keep it near just in case. It’s unwise to show up to a casting without weapons of protection. The candles may be traditional but are also a precaution. The intention you set while lighting them adds protection and lends you strength from the energy you charged them with previously.

Four minutes.

You place offerings, bread you baked yourself, apples you picked by hand, mead you fermented in your home, inside the salt circle. A gift for the spirit you hope to summon. Another tradition-another precaution.

Three minutes.

You grab your ceremonial dagger. It’s cold and sharp. Perfect for what you need. You also grab a couple of Band-Aids. No sense in not being sanitary.

Two minutes.

The wait is excruciating. The seconds tick by like hours. Months of preparation, years if you wanted to get technical, all leading up to this moment.

One minute.

You place the pointed end of your dagger against your finger and press. Crimson blood begins to swell from the cut as you extend your hand out in front of you. Droplets fall to the floor, staining the white chalk red. The rest is camouflaged by the dark stain of the wood floor but you know the magic is working.

As the clock displayed on the screen of your phone reads midnight, swirls of thick smoke begin to rise from the blood on the floor. Setting the dagger back down you press your cut between two fingers, stopping the flow of blood. There’s nothing more for you to do at the moment except wait and see. Hopefully someone takes you up on your offer. You’re prepared to wait all night, longer if you have to. You don’t know if the spell even worked until a demon shows up or not. All of your hard work amounting to nothing–well the thought of that makes your stomach twist into knots. There’s no telling if anyone at all received your summons on the other side. 

They had.

The wait is quick. Far faster than you thought it would be. All the grimoires you had at your disposal had made sure to warn the caster that demons did not adhere to any mortal’s schedule. So when one moment you’re looking at the empty summoning circle, shadows flickering along the walls from the candle flames and the next you’re face to face with a hooded figure, separated by barriers of salt and magic and blood, your breath catches in your throat. The shadows move. Reaching with long fingers towards the being in the center of the circle, drawn to the demon as if being tempted. Even the flames flicker towards the creature. You feel the pull erging you along. Encouraging you to cross the lines of protection. Tempting you to let go, to be swept in the demon’s current and float down river to them. It’s common. This feeling, this pull or whatever you want to call it. Your grimoires had warned you of this as well. Demon’s use their magic to lure you to them without a pact of protection in place.

Bright crimson hands with dark lines of tattoos that flow past the wrists and disappear underneath their sleeves, reach up and pull back their hood obscuring their features. His angular face is just as red as his hands. The black, bold tattoos flow along the lines of his neck and accentuate his handsome face. You trace the flowing patterns with your eyes as they follow the line of his jaw, touching his lips, highlighting his nose, and paint the ridge of his cheeks. His yellow eyes, that are studying you just as intensely, are held in pools of black, until they flow upward still. They circle the many horns that adorn his brow. They mimic a crown, giving the demon a stately appearance. This is no lower-demon you’ve summoned. 

Perfect.

The terms of the contract are negotiated smoothly and efficiently. No small talk is wasted beating around the bush. When he asks you what you want out of the deal, the demon smirks and it sends a shiver down your spine. It settles low in your back and in the pit of your stomach. You know these nerves have manifested out of the air of intimidation the demon radiates. You’re well aware of how powerful this demon is, and what he could do to you given the opportunity. But there’s also anticipation. You want this. You’ve wanted this for a long time and finally, you’re about to make it a reality. “Power.” That’s your request, your demand. Speaking it out loud feels like there’s electricity on your lips. As soon as the thought crosses your mind the demon’s golden eyes drop to your mouth for the briefest moment. Heat begins to rise inside of you and you think you’re not the only one affected. The exchange will be–intimate. You settle on a time limit, one month, for both of you to fulfill the contract terms. He has one month to give you as much magical power as he can and at the end of it all, you’ll give him your soul.

You sign the contract quickly, reopening the wound on your finger from earlier. Blood soaks into the ancient paper, sealing your deal with the demon. You feel the magical pact slide into place between you and suddenly-everything feels right. Like wearing glasses for the first time, everything feels like it’s suddenly in focus. Almost as if you’ve been squinting, walking around half-blind until him. Until this pact. You toe the line of salt, breaking the line of protection that separates you from him. The demon can no longer harm you, or even touch you in any way that you don’t want or enthusiastically agree to. The contract is signed by both of you and there’s no getting out of it until the terms have been met.

“Now that the details have been taken care of,” the demon purrs as he begins to roll the contract up, stowing it safely away. “There’s no better time than the present to begin. Don’t you agree, my little witch?”

The urge to hide your face is strong but your pride is stronger. You knew what the process of the exchange of power would entail, but now that you’re here, face to face with it, poised on the precipice of everything you’ve wanted, you find yourself nervous. It was the way he was looking at you. Like he was ready to devour you. Ravenous.

“Um, you mean-”

“I’d like to begin my side of our pact now, yes.”

Masterlist

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