Seven Sins - Second Part | BTS x Reader

Food, Reversed

At the words of the Ayabbi, Daimon stiffens against your legs. A bitter, cold feeling runs through you and makes you shiver although you technically can't feel the cold. Only when you look down and your eyes meet Daimon's blown pupils, you realize what it is.
He's afraid.

Vazgan notices, because his voice lowers into a purr next, though the evil spark in his eyes does not die. "Fret not, small familiar", he says. "Your master shall come to no harm."
You can feel by the tension of Daimon's muscles that he does not believe the head of the Ayabbi, not in the slightest. His obvious fear is making you nervous. Out of reflex, you throw a glance towards Jimin who has long returned to his bench. The succubi are all over him again, but his eyes rest on the room attentively while he absentmindedly plays with the blonde hair of one of them. He does not return your glance, however, and the cold feeling of loneliness almost chokes you.
Daimon leans against your leg harder, his weight pulls you back into reality.
You're not alone, he hisses in your head. You can hear the frustration in his voice. I am just... I cannot help you.

Help me with what?, you ask, to which Daimon's mind becomes so dark it fills your head and hangs over your consciousness like a calamitous storm cloud.
Eating, is his short reply. With eating.
His words confuse you for a moment, but in the same moment that you realize what the Ayabbi's invitation to a banquet means, Vazgan turns around and gives a weak wave towards the man next to the throne.
He takes a few steps forward, out of the shade. You realize two things immediately; first: he is one of the most beautiful beings you have ever seen, and second: he moves too elegantly.
His golden eyes flicker towards you when he stops, then he lifts his hands and gives a wave himself while the gold in his eyes intensifies until you expect it to drip down his cheeks.

Things materialize out of thin air, right in front of your eyes. A long stone table manifests in the middle of the hall, right in front of Vazgan's seat, only that the seat itself is vanishing into nothingness. Dark, heavy wooden chairs appear to both sides of the table and at its head, where Vazgan will probably take seat.
The latter turns to you with a smug smile. He is clearly enjoying this while his attendant finishes his work.
"We do not physically eat", the Ayabbi says, "but it is still good manners to sit at a table, is it not?"

You can only give a silent nod.

He beckons for his attendant – you decide to use this label for now because he seems like a servant of some sorts – a second time. The black-haired man steps closer.
"Bring them forth", Vazgan demands. "And make it quick."

The man bows his head, but you can see his golden eyes narrow and the corners of his mouth twitch disapprovingly before he vanishes into thin air.
Vazgan sighs. "A hassle", he mumbles to himself before his red eyes land on you again. "Please, Y/N, allow me", he says. His words are friendly as he guides you to the seat to the left side of his chair, but you don't trust them. He pulls the chair back for you, waits until you sit down and then does the same.
"Whoever wants to take part in the banquet, take a seat", he then says. He doesn't need to shout; the other Ayabbi can hear him just fine. Just a few seconds later, Thirak, Uzoth and Jazkar join the table. Jimin stays on his bench, while Zoczi vanishes from the windowsill.
Thirak sits down next to you, giving you a light smile that seems shockingly normal. Uzoth and Jazkar take the seats across the table. Jazkar is eyeing you with obvious displeasure, Uzoth on the other hand has a smile on his face that makes you more than just uncomfortable.
I'm right here, Daimon reassures you as he places himself by your side. He is so big that his heavy paws rest on your feet while his head bumps heavily against your left leg – strategically placed between you and Vazgan - and the rest of his body is curled protectively around the chair.
I'll protect you.

You're convinced you need protection when the giant doors of the hall, which miraculously reassembled themselves after you blew them open, start to open with a silent creak. You and Vazgan are the only ones who look up, the rest of the Ayabbi seem unimpressed and disinterested.
Before you can even see anything, a scent fills the hall, wafts over the ground and fills the air with its sweet, tart, delicious note. You feel as if saliva is accumulating in your mouth, even though that's not possible, and as if your mouth and throat are dried up at the same time. It is a fundamental yearning for something, no matter whether it's food or drink.
You didn't ever feel hunger or thirst like this during your time as a human.
Even Daimon's heavy body against your left leg can't hinder the burn in your eyes as feel them turn bright red.

"Master", the golden-eyed man says with another bow. His voice is young and pleasant, but it has a tone that makes you restless – as if the knowledge of a thousand years lurks behind it. However, you're too distracted by other things to wonder about it. That is because at first glance, the man is the only one standing in the dark gap between the ornamented doors, but a second later, you're able to see, smell, sense the shifting of life behind him.
It takes all of your willpower and Daimon's claws in your feet to keep you from jumping up and ripping the doors out of their hinges a second time.

Vazgan hums. "Bring them in, bring them in, my friend", he says, the latter being another address the golden-eyed doesn't seem to particularly enjoy. Moved by invisible hands, the doors open further and reveal a group of humans. They're young, not children, but also not old enough to defend themselves, and while their sight makes your insides itch with an indescribable urge, it feels like a punch in the chest at the same time.

You suck in a deep, silent breath when you realize what Vazgan is asking of you, and Daimon lets out a deep, defeated breath underneath the table.
"I will not", you protest quietly. The words are out of your mouth before you can even think about it, and unsurprisingly, your voice demands the attention of all devils and humans in the hall. Even Vazgan's attendant halts in his movements.
"You... what?", Vazgan asks, as if he's not sure he understood correctly. "What's the problem, dear?"

"I will not eat them", you repeat. This time, your voice breaks in the middle of the sentence and turns out as more of the croak. The longer the humans stay in the hall, the sweeter the scent gets, tainting your judgment.
The Ayabbi's expression hardens, but it loosens again just a second after when a sickly sweet grimace dances across his face.
"Oh, you will", he murmurs as he beckons for the golden-eyed to force the group closer to the table. "You will."
Every demon except for you has been eyeing the group since they entered the hall, as if they are picking the one they like most. Apart from the fact that you try to avoid eye contact as best as you can, you could not say who you wanted even if they forced you to give an answer.

The humans are surrounded by a scent, which is compelling and confusing at the same time, but you cannot make out anything else. Daimon has his eyes closed while his chin is resting on your leg. He doesn't seem to enjoy the thought of demons feeding, but you can imagine it is a part of being a demon's familiar, and you're thankful that he's here.
In your despair, you almost bury your head in your hands – and Vazgan notices.
"Jazkar", he says, snipping his fingers to get the white-haired demon's attention. "Make it a bit easier for our guest, will you?"
Jazkar doesn't seem particularly happy about this request, but he obliges under Vazgan's piercingly sharp glance. You can see his eyes light up even more for a second while he moves his hand through the air, and then the humans' eyes glaze over.
"Here, Y/N", Vazgan muses. "They will not suffer. Feel free to indulge. You must be starving."

Daimon's head pushes against your leg in sympathy as Vazgan's eyes narrow. There's nothing he can do.
"Oh, have they not taught you?", the Ayabbi's leader continues, cocking his head to the side curiously. "That is a shame, indeed."

He leans forward towards you, close enough for Daimon to lift his head and show his teeth in a silent growl that rolls through your entire body. It surely doesn't go unnoticed by Vazgan, but the demon ignores it.

"Would you possibly want me to show you how it is done, love?"