DEAL WITH THE DEVIL!
started — twenty-first of november ( 2020 )
published — sixteenth of february ( 2021 )
finished — ???

❝ 𝒘𝒆 𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒏'𝒕 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍𝒔, 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒐. 𝒘𝒆'𝒓𝒆 𝒇𝒂𝒓 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒃𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒅, 𝒅𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒆 𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒆𝒔.❞
𝑮𝑰𝑭 𝑴𝑨𝑫𝑬 𝑩𝒀 𝑴𝑬 !
▹ ▹ ▹

VICTOR BLIGHT DIDN'T CLASS HIMSELF AS A GOOD PERSON — HE KNEW HE WASN'T, NOT WITH HIS DEFINING PAST. It was an act of naive youth, the age of which you believe everyone has no bad intentions and just wants to look out for the little guy. The promise of having what he desired had made him blind to all bad intent, and it left him weak in the end . . . but not entirely powerless.

The Blight family were notoriously known for being well-spoken adults, their self-help books being a national treasure to most of whom valued a better lifestyle. Their name was associated with positivity, something Victor had grew up hating for numerous reasons he was never allowed to voice under any company but his own.

On the outside, the Blights looked like the perfect family. The type of family who were bright and merry, always sending out family Christmas cards to friends and relatives (which they did, but it had been the same photo every year of his dad hugging his pregnant missus) on time, donating their hard-earned work money to charities and spreading awareness on the importance of family and providing your kids with a safe environment to grow up in.

Sadly, what you see on the outside isn't always what you get on the inside.

Victor Blight and his little sister, Sydney, grew up in anything but what their parents promoted — that being a healthy, loving and safe family relationship. The topic of which they had wrote so many books about, spoken so many public speeches of, and spread so much awareness on . . . was what they lacked most between their two young children.

Even at a young age, Victor knew he wasn't loved. His parents never celebrated his achievements and milestones like his friends' parent's did, sometimes not even bothering to acknowledge them at all if it was something the media could glance over. He learned pretty early on that if the public eye didn't care, neither did his parents.

Victor took his treatment with a grain of salt — not knowing any other lifestyle to spend his years adapting to. He wouldn't say he accepted it, but he couldn't say he didn't tolerate it either, sadly. Stuck in the middle ground, the young Blight had grown accustomed to living day-to-day with his parent's harsh hitting habits . . . and the bruises and marks that came with it.

The splotches of purple and red that would be painted on his skin was never something he understood, and how could he? He was just a little boy. He never understood how his parents' acts of contrasting, black and white personalities were nothing but dependent on the amount of eyes they had on them at that moment. But age can be a cruel yet wonderful thing for a person, and Victor formed a certain level of respect for the ugliness that was unveiled to him within the passing years of his youth.

He hated it, of course. Why couldn't they actually be the picture-perfect family his mother and father promoted? Was it that hard to keep a mask on without a crowd of people throwing praises made of glue at you? Well, the answer came simply.

Humans eventually become tired of pretending.

Victor was tired of playing puppet to his parents, wanting to cut the strings and live a life where his choices were his own. Unfortunately, he was too young — therefore vulnerable. He felt stuck, the empty pockets of his old, continuously repaired jeans always empty; cutting off his finical opportunities. Obviously. He was a kid! No kid should have a reason to think about money, other than how much toys and sweets they could buy with it.

Regardless, that seventy percent of water stored within his body had been poisoned with age; his wasted youth of childhood merely a fictional fantasy that danced around in his head from time to time when he had a moment where the night aged solemnly and he could be a free thinker without the background noise. Yes, Victor had given up on his aspirations a long time ago.

Sydney, being a few years younger than Victor, had yet to accept the picture of their life that had already been painted for them. Victor didn't mind. He liked that. Seeing his sister — the only family member he actually liked and spent most of his years genuinely caring for — grip onto her youth was what made him hopeful. Not for him, of course, but for her.

Which was why Victor pushed on. He didn't cave into the deep feelings of rage he felt every time his parents would dare yell at him, the lift of their hand being the only thing he saw before his head whipped to the side with a stinging sensation. His blood would boil, fists as white as snow while the veins swam within its ice cold waters. Never did he fight back. Not because he feared his punishment, but because he feared fighting back would only give Victor a reflection of his parents staring right back at him; showing him what he had become.

He swore he'd never be like them.

Victor could feel his rage becoming more uncontrollable as his life filled itself out, as well as his sisters. She was still so young, but her brother knew she was nearing the age where she would no longer be protected by the childish aura that surrounded every child during their growing years. Soon, she would be thrown into the deep end, and forced to feel something far worse than cuts and bruises. Victor should know, he had experienced it first hand.

The time when your mind would turn on you, and give into all of what their parents voiced with no filter.

The eldest Blight sibling couldn't let that happen, not to his happy, little sister. He knew the second his blue-eyes laid on the pink-laced blanket she had been carried home from the hospital in, that he had to protect her; even if that meant putting himself on the frontlines, defenceless.

Which was why — like an amateur — he made a deal with the devil. Literally.

He came to him like a shadow within a dream, unexpected yet intriguing all the same. In dark times, our eyes are almost always drawn to the darkness we crave to understand, to relate, to offer our sympathies. And the devil knew that trick all too well.

Victor didn't think he looked like a monster when they first met, the very reason why he was hooked from all of which the mysterious stranger promised. Love. Safety. Freedom. Deep down, everyone craves it most, and the devil in front of Victor told him that he could have it all . . . on one condition.

The supernatural. Whether you believed it or not, no one can deny it can put on one hell of a show when it wants to. Seeing those with so much incomprehensible power was like a drug to the eyes, taking it in so much that you start to question what's real and what's fake.

The devil thirsted for Victor's help, and it made him feel — as sad as it is — wanted. The aged presence of an adult depending on him in a non-toxic manner was foreign, therefore addicting. It didn't take long for Victor to start becoming obsessed with the devil and the little "tasks" he had to offer.

At first, it was just little things. Victor was quite small and scrawny for his age, therefore he had the potential to be quite the stealthy character: a pro the devil definitely used to his advantage. Shamefully, Victor grew up enjoying the thrill of the chase; always feeling merry when the town would talk of a mysterious, unidentifiable thief lurking around the streets stealing little bits and bobs of machinery that he knew nothing about.

By the time Victor was ten, he had grown to be the perfect little apprentice for the devil. His fulfilment in every task had rewarded him in life somewhat, that being — with his developed stealth — Victor could get his hands on pretty much anything him and his sister desired or needed. He was able to provide for his sibling, and that made the risk of the job worth it.

However, Victor had grown confident in his position; too confident. He wanted more, was promised more. All he truly wanted was a life where him and his sister could live in a world without their parents, free of their words and hands that scarred them.

The devil understood, and offered him a deal. And that, my friend, is where the real story kicks in.

The story is, it had all been building up to this. Their "by chance" meeting, the stealing, the promises and words of persuasion; all of it had lured Victor into a trap. And by the time he realised, it had been too late.

He was a naive little boy who wanted the world in his hands for him and his little sister, but all he was left with was a power he couldn't understand, a hollow heart, and a personal contract declaring him as property of the devil.

His presence would forever corrupt the young boy from then on as he aged. The devil had melted all his sins and poured them into Victor. And now, he is damned. From his earliest beginnings, to his latest nights. For forever, his only solitude would be fate; and the hopes that it would be kind to him.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

❝ ɪ ꜱʜᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴘʀᴏʙᴀʙʟʏ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ
ꜱᴛʀᴀɴɢʟᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ʀɪɢʜᴛ ɴᴏᴡ. ❞
꒰ ☄️ ꒱ؘ ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

❝ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ʟᴜᴄᴋ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴀᴛ.
ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇɴ'ᴛ ᴛᴀʟʟ ᴇɴᴏᴜɢʜ. ❞
꒰ ☄️ ꒱ؘ ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

▂▂▂
VICTOR BLIGHT.
( 𝒍𝒐𝒖𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒐𝒎𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒐𝒏 )
❝ if it's really gotten to the point where humans are going around calling themselves heroes and villains, then the world needs to go fuck itself. ❞

THEO RAEKEN.
( 𝒄𝒐𝒅𝒚 𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒂𝒏 )
❝ well, a psychopath is better than no path. plus, it makes us more memorable, don't you think? ❞

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃
𝗦𝗢𝗨𝗡𝗗𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗞
❝ IF WE'RE REALLY CONSIDERED "VILLAINS" TO THEM ALL, THEN AT LEAST WE'LL HAVE THE COOLER SOUNDTRACK. ❞

♞i. HABIBI — tamino  ♞ii. BLACK MAMBO — glass animals  ♞iii. LITTLE DARK AGE — mgmt  ♞iv. I FEEL LIKE I'M DROWNING — two feet ♞v. KILL MY MIND — louis tomlinson ♞vi. BABYLON — barns courtney ♞vii. I'LL BE GOOD — jaymes young ♞viii. AFRAID — the neighbourhood  ♞ix. WHO ARE YOU, REALLY — mikkyekko ♞x. USED TO THE DARKNESS — des rocks  ♞xi. WAY DOWN WE GO — kaleo ♞xii. EXIT MUSIC — radiohead
♞xiii. VILLAIN OF MY OWN STORY — unlike pluto ♞xiv. CAN'T PRETEND — tom odell ♞xv. KILL OUR WAY TO HEAVEN — michl ♞xvi. ONLY FOR THE BRAVE — louis tomlinson ♞xvii. LOVING YOU — seafret

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𝗕𝗘𝗙𝗢𝗥𝗘 𝗪𝗘 𝗕𝗘𝗚𝗜𝗡

i. DISCLAIMER  i do not own teen wolf! all rights go to the creator(s) and actors for bringing this fantastic show to life. i only own my oc and his backstory.

ii. WARNING this fic will contain swearing, spoilers for teen wolf, boy x boy content, medication — only used for sleeping purposes, blood / other injuries and mentions of abuse.

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𝗕𝗘𝗦𝗧 𝗩𝗜𝗘𝗪𝗘𝗗 𝗜𝗡

COLOUR: black
FONT: hoefler text
SIZE: your preference:)

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❝ 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙵𝙸𝚁𝚂𝚃 𝚂𝚃𝙴𝙿 𝙾𝙵 𝚁𝙴𝙳𝙴𝙼𝙿𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽 𝙻𝙸𝙴𝚂 𝙿𝙻𝙰𝙸𝙽𝙻𝚈 𝙸𝙽 𝚃𝚁𝚄𝚃𝙷, 𝚅𝙸𝙲𝚃𝙾𝚁. ❞

A U T H O R. N O T E
i had the sudden impulse to write a theo fic, so here it is. and yes, i'm making it a boy x boy fic because it was the first full-ish plot that i envisioned — so i just ran with it.
i kinda have a habit of just going off on whatever first comes to mind when it comes to writing and visuals.

AND YES I REALLY DID JUST USE A MEMBER OF ONE DIRECTION AS THE FACECLAIM OKAY! LEAVE ME ALONE!
i love him, and you are all sleeping on his talent!
. . . anyways . . . stream walls for clear skin.

with that being said, i hope you all are doing well. thank you for picking up this fic to read, it really means a lot.

any support is greatly appreciated!
don't be a silent reader, make your wonderful presence known :)

i hope you enjoy " deal with the devil " and thanks for reading!
love you all!

GIF MADE BY ME !
━ R O S C O E O B R I E N