#The Second Coming of Gluttony

[alycias-wonderland]

Hello My Lovelies❤!

So lately I've found myself writing a lot of fanfics for different fandoms at the request of my friends, and I came up with an idea for one that I was hoping to get your opinion on.

So it's plot follows my OC and her adventures in different fictional worlds, mainly, manhwa/manhua, anime, manga and novels. The world setting is, the universes are ruled by a bunch of systems which keep the world's balance. There are no human gods and the like. My character dies and finds themselves with a system named the Capture Target System who's main focus is to provide its host with capture targets. The target could range from distant family members (only in historical manhwa like Who Made Me a Princess) to side characters (example is Jo Gul from Return of the Mount Hua Sect) .

I would also like to add some of you guys' OCS. Sooo... Yea.

Guys please tell me if you would like to read a fanfic like that and out of the worlds below which you would want me to start with:

Return of the Mount Hua Sect

The Second Coming of Gluttony

Haikyuu

Demon Slayer

Ikemen Vampire

Who Made Me a Princess

As you can see there are more manhwa/manhua than anime. I've been too lazy nowadays to actually watch them😅.

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Stay lovely❤! Stay safe❤! And most importantly...

Stay hydrated❤!

Bye bye my lovelies❤!

[halfhappyhooligan]

having lunch with mom today !!!!🍎🥪🥤

[mammonsrockstargf]

"Fuck, the things I wouldn't do for a cheeseburger right now,"

Beelzebub's attention is immediately on you, eyes twinkling red. "We can go to Hell's Burger after this then," he says, eager to oblige to any and all requests you make. The fact that it involves food only entices him further. You sigh and shake your head, much to his confusion.

"No, Beel, like a real burger," you say, resting your head in your hands, elbows on your desk. You're sitting at the back of the class, so your teacher doesn't notice that neither of you is particularly focused. Beelzebub's eyebrows furrow in confusion. "Hell's Burger's burgers aren't real?" he mumbles and you smile apologetically at him, shaking your head.

"Sorry, Beel, I just-" You stop for a second, reminiscing about your favourite burger restaurant. Beel waits patiently for you to sort out your thoughts, although the talk of burgers has increased the never-ending rumble of his stomach.

"I just crave a human-world burger, that doesn't have the word death or poison in the name or has 4,000-year-old cheese in it," you say and pout at him. "I want a proper burger, with normal cheese and lettuce and pickles-" your rant is interrupted by the loud noise of Beel's stomach, so loud that the entire class turns to look at you for a second before realising it's just Beel. The teacher sighs and resumes the lesson. Your brows furrow in concern. "You got any lunch left, big guy?" you ask and Beel shakes his head while holding onto his stomach.

Without looking up from his book a single time, Satan, sitting in front of you, reaches down into his bag and pulls out his lunch, giving it to Beel. Beel gratefully accepts it, with a sheepish look.

"Thanks, bro."

ੈ♡˳

Your craving for a real cheeseburger doesn't go away, but you resolve to not tell Beel about it after his... expressive reaction. That's until three days later when Beels is pulling you down the street by your hand. "Beel, where are we going?" you ask, but he just smiles at you, grinning from ear to ear. "Mmmh, it's a surprise," he says. You don't realize where you are until you're standing in front of the passage that you've used a couple of times before. The seal to the human realm.

"What's going on?" you ask. Beel shrugs. "Got permission from Lucifer to take you to a real burger place," he says and you stare at him in awe. "Beel, that's really nice of you," you say and he smiles. "Yeah, yeah, thank me later,"

Before you know it, you're pulled into the passage with a squeal.

ੈ♡˳

The great thing about going out with Beel is that there is absolutely no shame when it comes to ordering food. The demon is as shameless as a baby. The more the two of you order, the more the cashier in front of you seems to pale. Pretty much every burger on the menu is ordered, several portions of fries, every single dip, 20 chili cheese tops, 3 milkshakes (one for each flavour), 2 sodas, chicken wings-

"Oh, Beel, you gotta taste this one, it's the best," you say, pointing at the menu. The cashier begrudgingly adds it to your total. "Anything else I can do for you?" they ask and you smile apologetically at them. "I think we're good for now," you say pinching Beel's arm, before he begins ordering any more. He closes his mouth and blinks at you. You wonder how long he would continue to order if you didn't stop him.

"Will you be eating here or taking it with you?" The cashier asks and they raise their brows when you tell them you'll be eating it there. Probably wondering how two people can eat that much food.

You honestly can't even blame them, but it's not like you can explain that they're dealing with the Avatar of Gluttony. Beel doesn't even seem to notice the cashier's judgment when he pulls out Lucifer's card and pays for the food.

You find a secluded table and sit down. It feels almost too normal, being back in your own world, sitting at a fast-food restaurant. Beel notes your nostalgia and grabs your hand. You smile at him. "Truly, Beel, thank you for this. I needed it," you say and once again Beel just shrugs.

"Figured it was the least I could do," he says. "You've done so much for us, always getting caught in me 'n my brother's fights," he mumbles and begins to rub soothing circles into your wrist. You sit like that in comfortable silence for a while before you lean over the table to place a chaste kiss to his lips. Beel's belly grumbles and he leans over to chase your lips, but you're interrupted when three workers come over and place an insane amount of food on your table. You smile at Beel and shrug when he makes a disappointed noise.

"We're definitely getting dessert after this right?" he asks, still oblivious to the judgemental stares from the restaurant workers, but you find yourself not caring either when you grin mischievously.

"How about I'll be your dessert?"

a/n: so i did some research and i couldn't really figure out if chili cheese tops is an international thing of just a scandinavian thing? it's fried cheeseballs with jalapeno in them and bread on the outside. is that a thing in your country?

thanks for reading! find my other stuff here.

[the-demonus-aunt]

What if the brothers found a Vibrator in your room (how would they react)

Hehe. Yes, thank you. Apologies for the delay, I hope you're still thirsting for this 🌚

CN nsft. sex toys. reader has a vagina. rough sex.

Belphie

He'll tease you with such a straight face, it will take you a while to even realise what's going on

He's merciless about it. It's his way of trying to provoke you enough that you will take the first step

Frankly, it might end in tears, which shocks him, which ends in hugs

On the other hand, if you have a humiliation kink? Best night of your life.

He's gonna overstimulate you until you use the safe word, holding that wand against your clit like his life is depending on it

How practical that he can use his other hand to tease your nipples

How delicious that he can kiss you like this and feel your desperate moans on his lips

"I didn't know you were such a needy little slut. Will you be a needy little slut for me?"

Beel

No, listen, it's right next to him and he doesn't notice

You gave him cookies, are you really expecting him to take in his surroundings?

If he finds it, it's because you wanted him to

You left it there, right next to the space he usually sits in, still dripping with your juices, because you knew he would smell it

And you knew it would be the one thing that smells more delicious to him than his food

Oh, he gets one wiff of it and you're already flipped onto your back, as he claws on your pants

It takes some nudging for him to actually use the toy on you. Why would he, if he can just taste you like this?

But when he realises how wet it gets you - how there's even more for him to taste - you have a long night ahead of you

Don't forget he's the Avatar of Gluttony. I hope you prepared for this when you sat the toy down near his cookies.

"How are you so delicious? I can't take it anymore. I- aaaah."

Asmodeus

He immediately asks you about it - he knows the model, do you love it as much as he does?

Btw, he figured out how to make it feel even better - do you want him to show you?

He's surprisingly gentle, kissing his way down your legs, as he pulls down your pants

Orders you to tease your own nipples with it while he prepares you

Asmo takes out an aphrodisiac cream and slowly spreads it right over your clit

He hasn't really touched you before, so your hips jolt up as heat shoots through your body

He teases you for hours before he goes all in

When you cum, he cums. He hasn't touched himself. You screaming his name is all it takes.

"Oh gorgeous, I'll make you feel so good, you'll see. How does that feel? Good? Yeah, I know, darling."

Satan

At first, he pretends he doesn't notice

Unfortunately his gaze keeps coming back to it

Is there...is there still cum on it?

Well, now there's precum in his pants

He palms himself until you notice and blush

Then he can't take it anymore. He throws you onto the bed and rips your clothes off

The only reason he doesn't just stuff himself into you without any hesitation is that he can feel you need some prep

He uses his fingers. They'll be better than any toy, you'll see

When you're finally wet enough, he plows into you until you have tears in your eyes

He presses his open mouth onto yours, his tongue finding its way to yours

Fuck, he wants to be in you in all ways possible

When you come and moan his name into is mouth, he almost blacks out

"You think you can tease me like this? You're not ready for what you got yourself into."

Levi

Mass panic in a room with only two people

He can't even hide it, he just shrieks when he sees it

You probably shriek, too, grasping for it so that you can put it away

You couldn't hide your vibrator, now he can't hide his boner

You might have to take the first step, ask if you can help him out, give him a kiss

Well, 5 seconds later you're on your bed, Levi helplessly thrusting into you

He cums almost immediately but he makes up for it throughout the rest of the night

Only after he feels you, tastes you, experiences you, will he get up and get that vibrator out again

"Show me how you use it. I wanna see. Please?"

Mammon

He enters your room. He sits down on your bed. Why is he standing up again? He's heading to the door, mumbling some sorry excuse, is he actually leaving?

Your gaze shifts to your bed and the realisation hits fast enough to stop him

Oh but now you're so close, and you're both thinking about the same thing and why are his hands on your hips?

His kiss is firm, the grip on your ass needy, he might be blushing but he does not hesitate. Not anymore.

You're both too lost in each other to remember the toy

The adrenaline, the pleasure - it turns the night into a blur of highs and heat and indecipherable whispers

"MC. I can't take i- I can't- fuck, you feel incredible."

Lucifer

This demon has The Audacity™️

He picks it up. Holds it nice and high, looking at you with a raised eyebrow and smug smile

He tells you if you needed help, all you had to do was ask. There is no need to resort to such mundane experiences when he can take you straight to heaven anytime you wanted, right?

You don't dare object. Which is good bc you also don't want to.

He takes you right on the table.

The things he can do with his tongue

The moans he extracts from you with his fingers

The whimpers his hard cock presses out of you

None so sweet as the way you dig your fingers into his arms as you cum

As your nails break skin and his name falls from your lips, he fills you up to the brim and makes you his

"You're cumming already? Pathetic, but I'll allow it. Ok then, cum for me, love, but show me exactly how good I'm making you feel. Yes, just like this. Yes."

[obae-me]

Dumb Injuries- Pt 2

This may or may not be based off of real events that may or may not have happened a few days ago... Only I was on my own with no sweet demons, just my panic, a bloody sock, and a bunch of tissues. I bet it's going to leave a scar...

Warning: Blood, glass, injury. Note: I am not a medical professional, so do not use this as advice on what to do in a situation like this.

--

A gleeful little hum came from your mouth as you walked about in the kitchen. Today was your day to make dinner. And while sometimes you loathed these days, expecting nothing but needy demons practically clinging to you as you cooked and begging for a taste as if they were all Gluttony, today was different. Today everyone was giving you the proper space to work on your own. The peace was much needed. You’d felt like you’d been running around non-stop going from room to room, reading message after message, fulfilling your duties with hardly a chance to rest.

You loved these people, but boy did they run you dry sometimes.

However, despite your exhaustion and perhaps slight irritation, dinner was still being made with much love. You figured, perhaps, if the meal was fulfilling, they’d all be calm the rest of the evening.

Even from here you could hear them bickering.

Something had been up with all of them all week. They were picking fights with each other constantly. Or, should you say, more than usual. If that was somehow even remotely possible. In fact, they very nearly destroyed the kitchen a handful of days ago. Someone had eaten Satan’s special cat-shaped cake he was saving for himself after a day of testing. So, naturally, he went ballistic. He assumed it was Beel, but Gluttony- for once- swore it wasn’t him. After being blamed too many times, he got frustrated. Lucifer of course had to get involved. And let’s just say he wasn’t in a very good mood that day. Luckily, no appliances were harmed, but you recall how long it had taken them all to clean it up. And now they were all still on edge as the culprit had still yet to come out with their crimes.

With an audible sigh, you shook your head. Demons will be demons as some of them so often liked to say. Moving away from the stove and towards the table in the middle of the room, you reached out for the cutting board of vegetables you’d prepped earlier.

Pain. You gasped loudly, hurting your throat in the process. You stumbled, completely dropping the items that had been in your hand. They struck the ground with several noisy clangs. As you grasped for balance with support from the table, you clenched your teeth. The nerves in your body sparked, starting from the bottom of one of your feet and all the way up your back. Even if you wanted to swear, you were so stunned, you couldn’t. You leaned harder against the furniture, curling your leg up and raising your foot to spot an inch long piece of glass sticking out of your heel. While the adrenaline was still pumping through your body, you reached forward and plucked it out. It didn’t seem to have much blood on it. Shaking hands wrapped the little shard in a small wad of paper towels before it was chucked in the garbage.

Apparently, whoever had been in charge of cleaning the mess after the fight from a few days ago missed a spot… Of course you had to be the one to find it… Limping, keeping your injured foot on the tip of your toes, you headed towards the door to the kitchen. Thank Diavolo that your room was nearby. Hopefully you could make it there and patch yourself up before—

The door swung inwards, just a few inches away from smacking you in the face. You staggered back a bit. Mammon nearly barreled into you, grasping at your shoulder’s and steadying you to keep you from falling over. “You alright?! I mean… what did ya do this time, huh?” He blushed a little at his worried blurt before glancing by you and seeing the mess of scattered vegetables on the floor.

A heavy sigh from a second voice rang out behind Mammon. Your heart nearly stopped for a moment. Lucifer glared at you with narrowed eyes. “You couldn’t have waited another few weeks before making another mess of the kitchen?”

Well, at least so far, neither of them had noticed… You lowered your hurt foot a little flatter, keeping your heel just barely hovering over the ground. “I-I’m sorry,” you muttered. “I’ll get it cleaned up, don’t worry about it.”

The eldest, while usually appreciating those who fixed their own messes, was not satisfied with that answer. Exhaustion filled his eyes as he brushed past you and further into the room. “You can work on cleaning up your mess while I finish dinner. If we are even a few minutes late serving the food, Beel might go on another rampage.”

You nodded, gulping down a painful lump in your throat as your heel began to sting and throb. “Okay. I just have to grab something from my room real quick.” Lucifer just hummed at you, already pulling out replacements for everything you’d dropped. You looked up at Mammon, who was staring at you suspiciously, remaining unusually quiet. Walking as steady as you could, you squeaked past him and out into the hallway. Your hand pressed against the wall for support, fingernails almost digging into the wallpaper as you worked hard to remain quiet and upright.

Thank goodness your room was right next door…

All the sudden, the hallway flipped. Your head felt light and your chest squeezed as the floor was no longer right under you. You slipped, completely thrown off balance. You held our your arms, ready to catch the floor, but instead caught someone’s shoulders.

“I got ya…” Mammon sighed as he seemed to reach you just in time.

You leaned into him for a moment, trying to calm your wild heart. Then you straightened yourself, pulling away and looking down to see what you had slipped on.

A bloody streak covered the hard ground. Wide eyes looked down in shock, both Mammon’s and yours. You turned to look over your shoulder. Drops of blood made a pretty dotted trail all the way down the hall, stretching from your feet to—

“Lucifer…” You spoke as your gaze met his own. He no longer seemed exhausted, but now stunned, standing just outside the kitchen door.

“What the hell happened?!” Mammon shouted, his voice projecting far down the hall.

Oh great...

Like curious little mice, the Dining Hall opened as several demon heads poked out of the doorway, eager to see who was getting in trouble. You noticed Beel sniff the air and turn pale, muttering a single word to the rest of them that had all of them scurrying down the hall.

Either panicked or jealous, you were suddenly swept up into Mammon’s arms and absconded away. The House was a series of blurred colors before a door slammed open, nearly breaking in half. Mammon used one arm to sweep several items on the bathroom counter onto the floor before setting you on the empty space by the sink. You curled your leg and raised your foot again. Blood coated nearly your entire foot, steadily gushing and dripping onto the floor.

A hand ran through his own white hair as he nearly looked ready to pass out on your behalf. “L-Let’s wash it off…” Mammon whispered, his voice shaking as he turned on the sink and held his hand underneath the stream till it felt warm.

The other brothers were starting to flood into the room now, varying levels of shock, awe, and worry coating their faces. However, they were starting to learn about proper care, and how to not have a complete meltdown anytime you got hurt. But there was still a bit of a scene, the demons pushing each other aside and crawling over the others to get closer to you, reeling at the sight and smell of your blood.

Mammon cleaned your foot off, but frowned as it crimson continued to spread across your skin. Levi rushed over and placed a little Ruri-Chan bandaid across the injured spot. It bled through the bandage and started dripping again within a few seconds…

Now they were all starting to panic.

“We need to stop the bleeding!” Asmo shouted!

“Oh, do we?!” Belphie huffed sarcastically.

Satan pushed his way forward. “We need to add some pressure to stem it.”

Lucifer pulled out a first aid kit from… somewhere. You were starting to swear they had one in every room now… The eldest handed out specific items from the kit. Mammon continued to clean off the dripping blood. Asmo pressed a small folded cloth over your heel. Belphie started wrapping a cloth bandage around the injured spot. Beel gently pressed his hand down over the bottom of your foot to add some pressure.

“A-Are you okay? Does it…hurt?” Levi stammered from behind his other brothers.

You responded a little sheepishly. “It stings a bit, but… I didn’t think it was that bad.”

“Probably the adrenaline,” Satan sighed, bending down to pick up the items off the floor that Mammon had thrown down in a frenzy.

“What in the world happened, hon?” Asmo wondered, coming over to pet your head in a bit of comfort.

Biting your lip a bit, you took a breath. “Stepped on glass…”

A very gentle flick struck the back of your head. “Do you remember that little conversation we had where I told you to be wary of the kitchen floors?” Lucifer shook his head at you, his furrowed brows laced with worry, and perhaps a bit of guilt if you were reading his expression properly.

“I… thought it was fine.”

Pride opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by Mammon instead. “You gotta be more careful!”

Beel rubbed his thumb over your foot before removing his hand. “I don’t think it’s bleeding through anymore.” Taking a peek, he appeared right. You didn’t see anymore blood seeping through the bandages.

His twin looked over at you. “So, you’re okay now, right?”

“I think so.” A little squeak came out of your mouth as you were suddenly picked up again. Satan hardly said a word as he took you out of the bathroom.

“Hey! No fair!”

“Satan!”

Wrath ignored them all as he walked on. “Don’t worry about dinner tonight. We’ll take care of it. You stay off your feet.”

It didn’t quite sound like a suggestion…more like a command.

Well…it sounded quite like you wouldn’t be walking anywhere on your own this week…

[star-girl69]

Sad Girl

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Demigod!Reader

—-

synopsis: being a mistress on the side might not appeal to fools like you…

a/n: i love this song i love this fic i love this idea and most importantly i love my brain you are all very welcome <3

Sad Girl - Lana Del Rey

warnings: not proofread, secret relationship, player!clarisse, possessive!clarisse, kinda asshole!clarisse, she’s such a BITCH like you are not all that…. (i’m lying.), the usual swearing and demigod stuff, kinda like lmlylaw friends w benefits kinda thing except they’re both actually in love with each other, again NO SMUT!!!!! THERE IS NO SMUT!!!!!! THEY JUST MAKE OUT AND LIKE SLEEP IN THE SAME BED, again… i’m sorry the nightmare trope you can’t escape it. you can’t….., tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

Her hands are always everywhere.

She’s fast and agile, quick like a fox you sometimes see roaming around the woods, so she can jump from one spot to another. You’re supposed to have specific spots on your body, pressure points or whatever, that make you feel good.

When you’re with Clarisse, wherever her hands are lights on fire. You crave her all the time, the burn she makes you feel, the burn you know you make her feel- you’re pretty sure if she hovered her hand over your arm, your skin would find someway to grow and touch her.

You crave her, like a cigarette and the smell of the smoke, no matter how sad she makes you.

How can you be sad that you’re just one of her girls when at least you’re her girl?

How can you be sad when you get to wrap your hands around her forearms, feelings her muscles flex with the effort of moving to your waist, your hips, behind, the sides of your chest- everywhere.

How can you be sad when her lips are on yours, when your teeth are clashing together? Clarisse doesn’t kiss you slow. Clarisse doesn’t savor you. She eats you like you’re the first course of 12, a kiss full of greed and gluttony. Clarisse doesn’t kiss you like it might be the last time, because you both know you’ll always come running back to each other.

You’re the only girl she runs back to, out of all the flings that last a few days, the one nights kissing between cabins at bonfires- you’re the only one she lets into her room, into her bed. You don’t know why she comes back to you. Maybe it’s the way you bite your fingers to keep from moaning, maybe it’s the way you do moan when you’re finally away from everyone else, maybe it’s the way you thread your fingers in her hair or trace your nails along her muscles.

You don’t know why, but you know you love it, so you keep doing what you’re doing and say a prayer each time she leaves.

You don’t know why Clarisse keeps coming back. You don’t know why you keep coming back. You may be a sad girl, but at least you’re her sad girl.

“Gods, you’re such a pretty fuckin’ thing,” she mumbles, finally pulling away to catch her breath. You don’t really care about breathing right now, just her, so you bite your lip and resist the urge to pout.

“I know,” you say back. “But thank you.”

She chuckles, shaking her head lightly, her hand cupping your face as she kisses your jaw, her other hand holding up the leg that’s wrapped around her waist. You lean back against the bathroom stall until she’s breathing in your mouth again, drawing you back down to her with a hand around your neck.

She kisses you slow, hard and deep, finally giving you what you want- a glimpse of what could be. It’s bittersweet, because she kisses you like she really cares about you for just for second- and then you’re left waiting for her until she calls again. She kisses you for a long time like this.

But still, you resist the urge to chase her as she pulls away.

You breathe out, standing on your own two feet again, smoothing down your outfit and fixing your hair. She clicks open the door, hand against the small of your back as she urges you out of the stall.

There’s no one in here- this bathroom is always empty at this time of day, facts you’ve come to know due to your secret meetings.

You walk over to the sink, turning it on and running your hands under the cold water. You bring them up to your hot cheeks, trying in vain to pretend you’re not so affected by her, even when she was just pressing her hand against your cheek a second ago.

Maybe the reason Clarisse comes back to you is because you don’t ask when you’re going to see her again. You won’t say “see you tomorrow?” with a sheepish, hopeful smile on your face like you’re sure the other girls do.

“Bye,” you smile, and she hums, she doesn’t stop you from leaving.

—-

Clarisse moves like she has complete trust in the air.

She’s bold, especially when she fights, jabs forward and somehow manages to catch herself each time, even if she throws all her weight into a particularly hard thrust of her spear. The ground is often littered with holes from either ends of her spears, constantly putting it out to catch herself.

But it’s more than that.

She moves like she just won’t allow herself to fall, like she knows it’s simply impossible for her to fall.

You watch her now, admiring, really, the way she moves so confidently, so sure, so proud- she’s an unstoppable force, and there’s no object she can’t move.

She moves you, biting your lip as the muscles in her arm tense, fingertips drumming against the length of her spear.

She moves her sibling to the ground with a kick to their chest, and they slam down with a groan. She laughs, smiling triumphantly at another easy win- she hasn’t even broken a sweat.

“I hate you, Clarisse,” her sibling groans, but accepts her hand and let’s her tug them up. She grins, wiping dirt off of her spear.

“What’s that? Win number… 8,000? Somewhere around there.”

“Oh, fuck off, we both know you don’t have the brain power to keep track.”

“Oh, you’re so mean,” she says, rolling her eyes and hitting her sibling’s shoulder.

Someone taps your leg.

“You’re drooling.”

“No, ‘m not,” you huff.

“You are,” your best friend and half-sibling, Kaelyn, reaffirms. She pokes at your chin. “Right there.”

You resist the urge to wipe your chin.

“You just don’t get her like I do.”

“I don’t,” Kaelyn laughs, and the two of you watch as Clarisse winks at another girl. “Does it not bother you? You’re, like, literally just her toy.”

“Bitch,” you mumble, slamming your leg into hers. “It’s not that, though. Besides, why would I care? You help me sneak out almost every other night, Kay. I’m going to see her, because she asked.”

“Okay, so, if Clarisse started making out with that girl right now- you wouldn’t mind?”

“We’re not actually dating, so I don’t have any right to be jealous.”

“But you still are?” Kaelyn probes. “Just because you aren’t dating doesn’t mean you don’t still care about her like you are.”

You think about Clarisse so much you’re surprised the image of her isn’t branded behind your eyelids. You think about the way she touches you, the way she kisses you, but you also think about the way it could be. You think about the way that sometimes, just for a second, her hands will linger and she’ll breathe in deeply like you are all she’s ever wanted in life.

Of course you’re in love with Clarisse- she has a fire inside of her, some part of her soul that matches with yours, and you’re inexplicably drawn to her and everything about her.

But Clarisse doesn’t want you like that. She just wants the fun- and maybe you should wait for someone else who will actually love you, but she’s the best you’ve ever had. You haven’t even had anyone else, but you already know. You know no one else can make you feel the way she does.

You sit up straighter, ignoring the feeling of Kaelyn’s eyes burning holes into you.

“She’s ridiculously hot, a great kisser, and she gives me the time of day. That’s all I care about.”

“Okay,” Kaelyn hums, mercifully deciding to drop the subject.

And when your eyes inevitably roll back over to Clarisse and the other girl- she’s looking at you.

—-

You love Fridays.

You associate Fridays with the weekly camp bonfire, the smell of smoke and the laughter of your friends, marshmallows and the promise of a late morning the next day.

More importantly, you associate Friday nights with Clarisse’s bed.

She confessed to you once that she doesn’t really like the campfire and just goes to keep up appearances, maybe find someone, but now she has you. You come every Friday with no intention of staying long, wearing shirts you know will make Clarisse look at you- until she meets your eyes and silently demands you meet her at her cabin, or she just comes up behind you and grabs you.

However you end up there, you end up in her bed.

You’re sure tonight will be no different- you hope it’s no different, because you’re still a girl with needs and you haven’t seen her all week.

She’s the first thing you see when you get there.

Her and her siblings always occupy the best spot by the fire, so the flames dance along her face, and you can’t help but frown when you realize she’s already scanning the crowd.

“I assume you need me to cover for you tonight?” Kaelyn asks, arm linked with yours.

“I don’t know,” you mutter, feeling slightly dejected. She was probably looking for someone else- she doesn’t want you tonight, even though it’s become an unspoken tradition.

This is your mistake. Expecting something from Clarisse. You can’t do that, not when you know her, not if you don’t want this arrangement to wreck you.

And when you find the strength to look back towards her, her spot on the log is empty. She must have found someone else she likes the look of.

“Hey,” Kaelyn says, nothing the way you cross your arms over the shirt you wore for Clarisse- it feels worthless now. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you breathe. “It’s fine. Just sucks, y’know.”

Kaelyn presses her lips into a thin line. “Yeah, I guess.”

She wants to say more. Ask why you do this to yourself, you know she wants to knock some sense into you- but you know that as much as this moment hurts, it will feel 10 times better to have her in your arms again when she comes back.

“Babe,” Kaelyn sighs, putting her arm on your shoulder-

“Y/N.”

Clarisse’s arm slides around your waist, moving you into her and away from Kaelyn with enough force so her hand slides off of you.

Kaelyn looks at you with wide eyes, and you have to bite your lip to keep from squealing. Her arm feels so good around you, so perfect, like it was made to be there.

“Thanks… Kayla,” Clarisse fake smiles, her fingertips digging into your sides. “I’ll take it from here.”

“O-okay,” Kaelyn says, sort of blankly, like she’s in shock- this is probably the first time she’s talked to Clarisse, or even seen her up close.

Clarisse drags you off, squeezing your waist tightly once- almost enough to hurt.

“What’s wrong, Clarisse?” you ask, putting your hand over hers- feeling like her nails might rip holes into your shirt.

“Sorry,” she breathes after a second, taking her arm completely away from you- a loss you mourn heavily. “My siblings were annoying me all fuckin’ day. And then they forced me to come early, and I was waiting for you and you came late.”

The sun only just started it’s descent 30 minutes ago, but you can tell there’s something more going on with Clarisse, so you choose to just placate her dramatics.

You loop both of your arms through hers, pressing close so your hip-to-hip, leaning your head onto her shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” you say, simply.

“‘S okay,” she mutters, and you resist the urge to kiss her pouty face.

—-

At the back of each cabin, built into the wall right next to the bathroom, there’s a separate room for the camp counselor. It’s small, but private- a regular bed, a small dresser, and a desk. Some decorate, Clarisse left hers plain except for spots for her spear and other weapons to hang proudly on the wall.

You’ve come to love the sight of the four beige walls, grown used to the feeling of sneaking out the window, thanking the Gods it’s on the first floor.

The door shuts behind you, Clarisse pressing her back against it. Immediately, you slip off your shoes, crossing the room to sit on her bed.

“Come here and tell me your woes,” you joke, but her face is twisted into something painful, so the smile on your face falls as well. “Hey? Did something seriously happen, Clarisse?”

She locks the door and walks over to you, standing in between your legs, tilting your chin up so she can stare into your eyes.

“You can tell me,” you say, knowing you would feel like an asshole if you didn’t at least try. But you know she won’t talk to you- sometimes you talk, one Friday nights, sometimes you just lay next to each other and ask each other random questions- but you know tonight is not one of those nights.

“No,” she mutters. “I can’t.”

She leans down, her lips millimeters from yours. She’s so close it’s like she’s filling up all of your senses, until all you can think about is her. But you’re used to feeling like this around her. You love it. You let your guard down and you let it in, you welcome it.

“Why?” you ask, curiosity getting the best of you.

She smiles, her lip quirking up just slightly.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it,” she breathes, before her lips finally crash down onto yours.

The rest of the night is exactly what you expected. You roll around and she touches you everywhere, touches you in places you didn’t even know could feel so good. She lights you up, she makes you feel black and white. She makes you feel so simple, it all narrows down to her and her body, her lips.

And when it’s over, when you fix your messy hair and lay your head on her pillow- you don’t know what she’ll do.

You’re both too tired to sneak out, and you like to think that Clarisse secretly likes the sleepovers. Sometimes she doesn’t even touch you, seems repulsed- usually the nights when you kiss slow and then you talk.

But tonight was all fury and desire, fire in your stomach and in her eyes. So she holds you against her, chest pressed to your back. You play with her long fingers, she lets you crack them and stretch them- it’s the one time she lets someone else move her around, you think. Her arm is limp around you, her hand totally at your will.

“Do you ever think about the future?” you ask her. It’s fun to ask her real questions like this. It’s fun to get a glimpse inside of her mind, small moments like this when she holds you. “Not, like, tomorrow, but after camp. College. After college.”

She hums.

“No. I don’t.”

“Why?” you’re pushing, now, but you don’t care.

“I don’t think I’ll have much of a future, really. Ares kids go on big quests and they die horribly. That’s what’ll probably happen to me.”

“That’s morbid,” you chuckle. “There’s people who would miss you, though. I would miss you. Who else would kiss me in the smelly bathrooms?”

“You don’t want anyone else to kiss you in the smelly bathrooms.”

She tenses, like she didn’t mean to say that and she just blurted it out.

“Yeah, I don’t,” you whisper, voice small. But it’s true. You don’t.

She relaxes back against you and you don’t push anymore, you let her drift off, her breathing slow.

Eventually, after you get bored of staring at the moon in the window, you turn around so you’re facing her. She shuffles a bit, but you just move her arm back around you, thinking she’s asleep.

And after a few minutes of you laying there silently, you feel her move. You’re so close to her you can hear her eyelashes flutter.

She makes an appreciative sound in the back of her throat, tightening her arm around you and drawing you closer. When you unwillingly flinch at the feeling of her warm hand sliding under your shirt, she shushes you.

“Don’t wake up,” she whispers, the softest you’ve ever heard her speak. You don’t wake up. You pretend you’re asleep, you pretend you don’t feel her, pretend you don’t care about the connotation of her softness. You pretend it doesn’t make your heart squeeze in what will never be, in what now is only the fruition of sleep and the comfort and privacy of darkness. “Mhm, stay asleep, baby.”

She kisses your nose, her hand scratches your back, the bare skin.

“Always so cold,” she breathes, “Always so pretty.”

And suddenly her breathing evens out and she’s asleep again.

—-

The next few days you pretend nothing is different. You pretend you didn’t hear her call you pretty and baby, feel her kiss your nose. You chalk it up to her frustration from the day finally disappearing in your arms and the fact she was half asleep.

She’s called you pretty before. She’s called you baby before. You’re sure she’s kissed your nose before and commented on the fact you run so cold compared to her running hot.

You don’t even tell Kaelyn about it, although you’re sure she notices a difference in you- it feels like you’re constantly removed. Constantly thinking about that one minute where she thought you were asleep.

Maybe the reason you don’t tell Kaelyn is because you know what she would say. You know that you’ve always been different then the rest of the girls Clarisse messes around with, but this is different. It’s different, the way she kissed you softer for longer last week, what she did Friday night- yesterday when she pulled you into the stables and sat on a hale of hay, guiding you to sit on her lap.

She said she couldn’t have her pretty girl getting covered in hay. And she had picked off the pieces that has attached themselves to your pant legs, holding your ankle as you stood there awkwardly.

And yesterday, she has kissed you not like she usually does, but slow and soft and so sweet. Mumbling against your lips about how perfect and pretty you are, about how good you make her feel.

When she slips you the note, you don’t expect it’s her calling you to her bed again. The second night this week, and it’s written in her slightly messy handwriting- but you wouldn’t call it chicken scratch.

Come over tonight

Please

-C

—-

Kaelyn seems skeptical over the fact that you’re going to the Ares cabin again, but she can also tell you don’t want to talk about it, so she just helps you.

You lay in your bed for a long time, waiting for it to get dark enough that you can sneak over undetected. And strangely, you imagine your pillow is her chest.

—-

You wake up in a panic. It’s late, later than you would have liked to visit her. You usually come around 12- it’s probably around 2, if you had to guess.

You slip your shoes on and fix your pillows to look like someone, tip toe out the door, into the pale moonlight. You feel on fire, excited to see her, cursing yourself for sleeping- wondering if she’ll be angry with you.

You practically run past the other cabins, checking down the numbers in your head until you finally reach cabin 5. You tug your sleeves over your hands, feeling the cold summer night a lot.

You run around to the back, feet sinking into the soft grass, climbing onto the little step stool Clarisse left for you and knocking extra loud four times on the window- so she knows it’s you.

You suddenly realize there’s light peeking out from behind the curtains- is she awake?

She opens the curtains and then the window, her eyes wide. She rips the window open with such force you almost fall back, throwing your hands inside to catch yourself.

“I’m sorry,” you start, prepared to worship the ground at her feet- but you don’t get the chance too.

She hooks her hands under your arms and practically drags you into her room, you have to scramble to keep up with how fast she sets you onto your feet, her hands pressing against your face-

“Why are you late?” she breathes.

You feel sort of starstruck. Like Friday, something is obviously wrong with her.

You look around the room- notice the fact she has one shoe on, and her spear is on the bed and not hung up on the wall- like she was preparing to go somewhere.

“I’m sorry,” you gasp, slightly out of breath from running, from the fact both of her hands are on your face and she’s staring into your eyes. “I-I fell asleep. Are you going somewhere?” you joke, trying to lighten the mood.

“I was coming to get you,” she whispers.

“Oh.”

She lets you go, sitting on her bed and taking off the one boot she had managed to get on.

“With your spear?” you chuckle, careful to avoid it as you sit next to her.

“No,” she lies, boot hitting the floor, she stands and returns the spear to the wall. “I just… thought something happened to you. It was stupid. I didn’t sleep well last night, I’m not thinking straight.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” you say. She stares pointedly at the floor. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I was fine, just asleep in my bed.”

Her eyes finally meet yours and she sighs, heavily, tension fading from her shoulders. She turns off the light and you kick off your shoes, watching as she circles you like a lion watching over its cub. You lay down on your back, prepared fo shuffle over to give you room- and you choke on air when she just climbs on top of you.

She presses her head against your chest, breathes in and out deeply.

And in the darkness, where your inhibitions are lowered- she presses a kiss to your bare chest. It takes you a moment, but you’ve learned to take what you can get with Clarisse. You don’t expect to get it again, but you enjoy it when it happens.

You wrap your arms around her and breathe in the scent of her shampoo.

“I’m fine,” you reassure her, and she nods.

You lay like that for a while, eventually you start to trace circles on her back- just soaking up the moment while it lasts, letting her listen to your heartbeat.

You pretend for this one night.

And when she’s almost asleep, her voice breaks the comfortable silence.

“Can I tell you a secret?” she asks.

“Yeah, ‘course.”

“You’re my only girl. I don’t… don’t wanna see anyone else anymore. I don’t.”

This is all you never allowed yourself to want from her. The one rule you have with Clarisse is to not expect anything, to not get your hopes up. But Clarisse is clearly abandoning all her rules tonight, so you abandon yours.

“Does that mean anything different?” you whisper.

“I just want you to come here every night,” she whispers. “I get scared when you’re not here, ‘cause I think about you so much I don’t know what I would do if you were gone.”

“I know, Clarisse. I know.” You hold your breath, feeling like a dam might spill over any second. “I know how you feel.”

“I jus’ want you to be here with me all the time. I don’t wanna… make out in the bathroom anymore.”

“Well, I do,” you huff, and she laughs, truly laughs and it’s possibly the sweetest sound you’ve ever heard.

“I wanna do other things in addition to that, okay?”

“I’ll be whatever you want me to be, Clarisse. We both know that.”

“But do you know I feel that way about you?”

“Do you?”

“You are… everything to me, Y/N. My pretty girl, my funny girl, my perfect girl.” She doesn’t look at you when she talks, but you let her speak anyway, you let her put one of her hands in your hair. “I had a dream,” she starts, mumbling, but it’s just you and her so it’s like she’s whispering in your ear. “That I lost you last night. That’s why I was so embarrassingly freaked out.”

“It’s sweet,” you whisper. “I thought it was really sweet. I was really confused, but I liked it.”

She breathes in your scent and it makes your head feel dizzy.

“I like it too,” she says.

She doesn’t say what you’re both thinking. You don’t either. Neither of you can promise that this will work, that you won’t run back to the safety of making out and Friday nights. But at least you’re both willing to try.

You’re willing to try, for Clarisse, because she has something about her that you know you’ll never find again. She has the fire, it seeps out of her in every aspect of her personality, the way she carrie’s herself.

She has a fire that has been burning with yours for a long time, before you were even born. And you were separated into two different brazers, but now you’re back, and it might not be good, but it feels right.

She sits up and kisses you quickly, her hand on your face, and it feels like she’s everywhere.

You may be Clarisse’s sad girl, but you could grow to be her everything girl.

—-

i just love them so lovey dovey and cute and aw i don’t really have anything to say just

shoutout to clarisse’s muscles, to the way she kisses, to the pet names, to the way she loves when she thinks y/n is sleeping……. yeah.

—-

bonus: the reason clarisse had the revelation and was all don’t worry your pretty little head was bc her siblings were teasing her abt how different y/n is and she was like oh no i’m in love w this bitch

—-

taglist:

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme @mar2ss @restellsss @ravisinghs-wife @marsconer @evangelinexo @randomhoex @luvrrish @rebecca37 @saltair-and-palemoonlight @ace-spades-1

@hyejusdiary

[rae-writes]

something something fucking both past and present solomon bsjsjsjsksks

nightbringer has fired up my love for our lovely sorcerer

nsfw

Fucking present!Solomon is typically quick, hushed, and full of teasing remarks. There's always some kind of time limit; one of you has somewhere to be, you're fucking in a public/semi-public area, one of the demons (or angels) is bound to come looking for you if you're gone too long, etc.

His grip is firm and almost rough against your body, hands going straight to where he knows it'll make you melt, tone entirely too smug and mischievous. Solomon acts as if he has all the time in the world when he's very well aware he doesn't, so his hips maintain a fast pace, sometimes harsh if he's particularly worked up.

He never slows down for a second, nor does he ever shut his mouth- except for when his lips are on yours. His words are dripping with the sins of the demons bonded to you— pride from having you all to himself, greed from never wanting to let you go, envy from knowing he'll have to let you go, wrath from having to always time your moments together, lust from you being so fucking perfect for him, gluttony from wanting more and more, sloth from wishing to just keep you wrapped up in his arms and never go anywhere again.

Solomon's kiss is searing and sloppy as he whispers in your ear; "everyone's after you and yet you're here with me" , "all. fucking. mine. yeah? yeah. say it again." , "tighten down around me harder, come on, we don't have a lot of time." , "fuck, yes, that's it sweetheart, fuck!"

Fucking past!Solomon is slower, still quiet but without the fear of being loud, and full of praise from the usually teasing sorcerer. There's no rush whenever he brings you in close with the intention of bringing you pleasure, nowhere to be after your attendant 'shift' is over, no risks of anyone walking in; you live together, now, share the same space and go to sleep in the same bed despite having separate rooms.

When the two of you first got settled, he was on cloud nine, urging you to be louder and louder until he could hear your beautiful voice echoing off the walls of whatever room he'd decided to take you in. The time you've been given has him thrusting in and out of you at a steady, slow pace, though no less electrifying.

His hands explore your body as if he'd never done it before, dipping and pressing into all the curves and areas that make you jolt in sensitivity. They cradle your face, massage your hips, interlace your own hands- he can't keep them off you. There's finally a space for just you and him and he can't get enough of it.

Here, as his lips meet yours, it's slow and passionate, eyes fluttering to get lost in the feeling, head swimming with pure desire for the other. There's no sin dripping past his lips now, only need and contentment as he praises you for anything and everything.

There's not a single teasing lilt in his voice as he whispers into your ear, only awe and want and sometimes the undertone of begging if he's particularly worked up; "you're so pretty for me, so, so pretty and so good." , "yeah, baby, like that, making me feel s'good." , "oh? right here? yeah? okay, pretty, right here." , "shh, I'll make you cum, let's just slow down for a bit, hmm? wanna savor it."

gods he's just so <33

[jstor]

Netsuke are miniature sculptures originating in 17th-century Japan. These are just four quirky examples that caught our eye, but you can find nearly 4,000 open images on JSTOR of these beautiful objects.

PS The second image is of Tanuki, a mischievous raccoon dog in Japanese mythology commonly associated with excessive drinking and gluttony. This ivory netsuke depicts Tanuki carrying, um, his grossly enlarged scrotum.

The three images with black backgrounds come from the Wellcome Collection and the white one is from The Metropolitan Museum of Art, two open access collections on JSTOR.

[helixobesity]

Stay in Bed

That’s what the doctor told you to do after all. Hell even when the world was locked down you couldn’t stay still, always working out, finding something to keep yourself occupied. There was never a second you stayed still since you wanted to watch your weight, your friends might have let themselves go but you were determined not to let that happen then and kept that mentality for years to come.

Of course that was before you had a little accident.

It was just a simple slip and fall, you even got right up afterwards. It wasn’t long until a quick doctors visit told you to stay off your leg for the next 12 weeks as it healed. Now, you were stuck at home, needing to stay in bed as much as possible.

The first week was horribly boring, working from home wasn’t an option for you for the time being. Of course you spent the time reading, watching shows, movie and whatever else. Then your stomach quietly growled. You still had plenty at home to continue your extremely healthy diet… for a few days. Then you were forced to turn to takeout and delivery. That’s when it started.

Maybe it was something deep inside you finally being let out or something else new all together. You started to gorge yourself day in and day out. As the days turned to weeks, eating was your new way to cope with boredom and you loved it. A box of snack cakes wouldn’t last more than a few hours, pizza deliveries that were once a cheap day became daily. From small to medium to large.

3 weeks in now as your belly, once toned and slim, laid in your lap round and full, you knew you shouldn’t be eating this much. Yet you couldn’t help yourself. You didn’t realize it but gluttony had already taken hold of you. Your arms lost definition, your cheeks began to fill out a bit more, and your chin began to double just a smidge. You needed to eat more.

Soon enough though, the change had already been finalized. 12 weeks came and went. You were fat now. You’d outgrown all your clothes, you’d gained more weight than you thought possible. You weren’t going to stop now. Your life became a cycle of obesity, overeating and gaining more weight. All it took was one small misstep, and your life changed for the better.

So why don’t you stay in bed and eat more for me like a good piggy~

🌀💿🌀💿🌀💿🌀

[aspiringtrashpanda]

✨MC teaches the brothers about "jinx"✨

“I’m kinda hungry,” you voiced, your Curses and Hexes homework doing little to retain your attention. 

Mammon snorted in response, not bothering to look up from his D.D.D. “Who are ya? Beel?”  

You waited a second before retaliating, hoping that someone would come to your defense. Alas, it seemed that the brothers lounging around you had long learned to tune out any word from Mammon’s lips.  

“I have basic needs like all of you too, you know,” you huffed, gesturing to the Avatar of Gluttony, cross-legged on the carpet next to you.  The warmth from the fireplace at your backs cast flickering light over the crinkled chip bag in his massive hand. “Eating isn’t trademarked by Beel.” 

Beel grunted, sharp snaps sounding from the rhythmic churn of his jaw.  

Levi’s handheld console let out a chime that signaled some sort of victory. “It’s only, like, his whole personality lmao.” 

Beel’s chewing paused, but Asmo swooped in first. “There’s more to Beel than food,” he cooed, “I mean, look at those sculpted muscles! He’s also the most handsome little brother~ ♡ ”  

“Gee, thanks Asmo,” grumbled the lump of blankets on the couch.  

“Aw Belphie, don’t be like that! I like your slender physique, too!” 

Somehow, the mound of linens seemed to shudder in distaste. Asmo only shrugged, losing himself in his hand mirror.  

“Asmo is right though,” Satan hummed, turning the page of his current book – A Comprehensive Guide to the Devildom’s Most Toxic Plants, “To define Beel as solely a glutton does little to recognize all his positive characteristics.”  

Beel swallowed, before flashing a dazzling beam. “Thanks, Satan.”   

The living room fell silent once more, save for Beel’s snacking and the crackling of the hearth.  

“Hey!” You thought you’d try again. “Know what I could go for right now?” 

You paused for anticipation, readying your answer. 1, 2, 3 and... 

“Hell’s Kitchen.” 

Your spine went ramrod straight, eyes locking onto Mammon in the split second after your voices had harmonized.  

“Jinx!” You gasped, “You owe me a soda!”  

“Huh?” Mammon blinked owlishly.  

“Jinx!” Your enthusiasm was lost on your company. Your neck cracked as you glanced from brother to brother, your grin dampening when they looked at you as though you’d grown a second head.  

Satan frowned. “What are you talking about?” 

“Is that some normie saying?” Though he sneered, there was curiosity in Levi’s eyes.  

“You don’t have jinx here?” You barreled onward, explaining, “It’s a game we play in the human world when two people say the same thing at the same time.” 

“How does it work?” Asmo pursed his lip, which only drew his attention to his shade of lip gloss, his mirror capturing his eyes once more.  

You shrugged, “There are various versions of the game. Sometimes, the loser can’t speak until they buy the victor a drink. Other times, they’re silenced until their name is uttered aloud 3 times.”

Mammon lunged forward, toppling off the couch as he rushed on all fours to where you sat on the carpet. Before he could protest, eyes wild with a mix of fear and anger, you placed a finger to his lips. 

“Nope! Not ‘til you buy me a Devil Cola!”  

“LOL!” Levi rejoiced, “Mammon, you’re such a n00b!” 

You weren’t the only one who noticed the way Mammon’s eyes brightened, Satan chiding, “Watch it. You can’t say his name or he’s freed, remember?” 

“Oh~ I wonder how long he can hold his tongue?” Asmo giggled, finally distracted from his mirror. You couldn’t blame him. Mammon’s expression was a cross between anguished and constipated.  

His jaw clenching, slivers of his teeth glinting through curled lips, you could feel the irritation radiating from the Avatar of Greed. Absently, you considered if you should tell him it wasn’t an actual curse. Did he know there was no power other than himself silencing him?  

“Can he eat?” Beel inquired, genuine concern mingling with sympathy as he watched his older brother straighten up and march towards the entrance hall.  

“You don't need to speak to eat,” Belphie's muffled voice reasoned beneath the blankets.

“HEY MAMS!” You called to his back, shoulders curled up to his ears in anger, “Buy me a Devil Cola, won’t you?"

And really, you hadn’t expected him to follow through at all. He left the room and you returned to your homework. Beel continued eating, Belphie continued sleeping, and Satan continued reading for the sole purpose of poisoning Lucifer, you were sure. 

About thirty minutes passed before you heard the door to the Hall of Lamentation creak open.  

“No way!” Asmo squealed, a shutter sounding before Mammon could sprint to the couch and swat the D.D.D. from his freshly manicured hands.

Your jaw hit the floor as you looked up at the second born, at the condensation dripping down the can of soda that he thrust in your face. A petulant pout only brightened his blush, the way his eyes looked anywhere but you. The red tint to his skin darkened as his brothers laughed, jeered, teased him.  

The least you could do was offer him some praise. You smiled with all your teeth, “Thanks Mammon! The jinx is lifted.” 

He scowled, waving off your gratitude with an unnecessarily noisy exhale. With his newfound freedom, he instantly started pestering Asmo, critiquing his most recent Devilgram selfies. As your heart swelled with affection, the words in your textbook falling on blind eyes too occupied by the tiniest movements of your family, you felt completely at ease.  

You didn’t think you needed to elaborate, to clarify that you had used your pact and that there was no real magic behind the jinx. 

However, when you entered the House of Lamentation two weeks later, you realized you had been very wrong. 

The living room was a disaster, pillows tossed this way and that, candle wax oozing across something that looked suspiciously like a summoning circle. Splintered wood littered the carpet, broken chairs in a mangled pile next to the hearth. You were pretty sure you could smell something burning.  

You nearly dropped the bag of groceries in your arms, Beel stock still at your side. One look at your shopping buddy told you he had no idea what was going on, concern blazing to life in his purple eyes. 

“Lucifer?!” He called out, immediately seeking reassurance. 

Instead of the eldest’s smooth drawl, you were met with an incomprehensible shriek from somewhere in the kitchen. A clatter of pots and pans. A crash.  

Belphie came sauntering into the room, nodding in greeting. “The jinx didn’t work.” 

“What?!” You gawked, surveying the damage to the room, “What is going on?!” 

“He could still talk!” Satan fumed, stomping out of the kitchen with his bony tail lashing back and forth, “So I cursed him, but then that asshole reflected it, and it hit Asmo instead.” 

Sure enough, a completely drenched Avatar of Lust was next to appear, his mouth moving a mile a minute and yet, not a single sound to be heard. He tossed his hands in the air, hissing something fierce before flicking a wet strand of hair from his face.  

“And Asmo tried to charm Mammon to speak for him,” Satan was still ranting, “but Mammon tried to charge him for his services, which then set Levi off about repayment with interest.” 

You hugged the groceries tighter to your chest, squeezing your eyes shut as you realized you knew exactly what was happening in the kitchen. You heard the roar, the rumble of the house’s foundation, the continuous rush of water drowning out twin shouts you had heard far too many times before. 

But not as many times as the one voice that rose above them all.  

“MAMMOOOON?!” 

You winced. You’d have to buy your first a Devil Cola later.  

*・゜・*:.。.*.。.:*・☆・゜・*:.。.*.。.:*・☆・゜

technically mammon was the one to provoke levi to summon lotan, so rip buddy. but let's be real, they're all getting punished.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN. READ MORE HERE.

[wanderingsorcerer]

APPALACHIAN FOLKLORE 101

Appalachia has a rich history in the united states, which goes farther back than most tend to give it credit for. The Appalachian mountains are millions of years old, and humans have only lived in the region for 16,000 years or so, which means the mountains are bound to hold some mysteries and legends.

Many of these stories, and folk practices originate from the Native Americans, specifically Cherokee, and are mixed in with the superstitions brought over from the old world specifically English, Irish, and Scottish. As well as the practices brought over from the African Continent During the Slave Trade. The Native population assisted the early settlers in Appalachia with ways to survive the area, grow food, and even forage for one of Appalachia's staple foods, RAMPS!!!

Let's delve into the history of Appalachian Folklore and the origins of everyone's favorite stories.

Cryptids and Myths

This is one of the most famous aspects of Appalachian folklore and one which outsiders know the most about, Appalachian Myths and their Cryptids that follow. Below I will go over a few of the more famous ones, which many have learned about, either second-hand or through living in the area.

The Moon-Eyed People

There was a group of humanoids called the Moon-Eyed People, who were short, bearded, and had pale skin with large, bright eyes. They were completely nocturnal due to their eyes being extremely sensitive to light. Although not mythical, they were considered a separate race of people by some. The tribes viewed them as a threat and forced them out of their caves on a full moon night. They were said to have scattered to other parts of Appalachia as the moon’s light was too bright for their eyes. There are some early structures that are believed to be related to the Moon-Eyed People, dating back to 400 BCE. Some theories suggest that they were early European settlers who arrived much before Columbus discovered the Americas. Other theories suggest they were people who had Albanism.

Image of The Moon Eyed People Statues in Murphy, North Carolina

Spearfinger

Spearfinger is a Cherokee legend of a shapeshifting, stone-skinned witch with a long knife in place of one of her fingers. She often was described as an old woman, which she would take the form of to convince Cherokee children that she was their grandmother. She would sit with them, brush their hair until they fell asleep, and then kill them with her “spear finger.” She had a love of human livers which she would extract from the bodies of those she killed. It was said she left no visible scars on her victims. She carried her own heart in her hand to protect it, as it was her one weakness. As the legend goes, she was captured and defeated with the help of several birds that carried the information to defeat her. Though she has been destroyed, sometimes you can hear her cackles and songs throughout the mountains. 

Image of SpearFinger Cherokee Legend

W*ndigo

This spirit is said to go to where its name is called allowed so since most of us already know the name I won't be writing it out in completion. So out of respect for some of our native readers, it will remain censored

The W*ndigo is a creature, sometimes referred to as an evil spirit, that is said to be 15 feet tall with a body that is thin, with skin pulled so tight that its bones are visible. Many native legends view it as a spirit of greed, gluttony, and insatiable hunger. It is a flesh-eating beast that is considered most active during the colder months, and its presence is easily felt and smelt. It has been described as having a distinct smell of rot and decay due to its skin being ripped and unclean. It produces an overwhelming urge of greed and insatiable want. Most notably, it is not one to chase or seek after its prey; instead, it uses its terrifying mimicry skill. It often mimics human voices, screams, loved ones, or anything that might entice its victim to come to it. In some cases, it is believed the W*ndigo is a spirit that can possess other humans and fill them with greed and selfishness, turning them into W*ndigos as well.  

Appalachian Folk Practices

Many of the common Appalachian folk practices stem from things the Native Americans and Enslaved Africans taught them mixed in with cultural practices from Europe. Here I will go over some of the most common practices done by the Appalachian people

Water Dowsing

water dowsing is a practice that has been done for hundreds of years in many different cultures. This practice was brought over by the European settlers and was how many people of the time found where to dig for their water. The practice itself is simple in nature, you take a forked branch from a tree and hold it in both hands and walk around once the stick points down due to the electromagnetic current that's where you dig your well.

this isn't exactly the best way to find water but many people still do it to this day.

Image of Someone Using A Dowsing Rod

Bottle Trees

This practice originated in the Congo area of Africa, in the 9th century A.D. brought to America by the slave trade, in the 17th century. Bottle Trees, were popular in the American South and up into Appalachia, the spirits are said to be attracted to the blue color of the bottles, and captured at night, then when the sun rises it destroys the evil spirits.

This is still practiced in the modern era by many Appalachian Folk Practitioners

Image Of Bottle Trees

SIN EATING

This practice originates from the Ancient Greeks and Egyptians, it branched to many different cultures and has been practiced since antiquity by many Christian and Catholic tribes. And later making its way to America via immigration. The process was once a profession in Appalachia, in which food was placed on or near the deceased and a person dressed in all black would eat the food absolving the dead of all of their earthly sins. This essentially cemented their ability to get into heaven. The practice while sparsely done any more as a profession, it can still be found in many peoples funeral services to this day around the world.

Many cultures still do this practice and the sin eaters usually choose to hide their identity as the practice is seen as taboo to this day.

Popular Herbs To Forage In Appalachia Folk Practices

Wild Leeks or RAMPS!!!

Allium tricoccum, are a species of wild onion native to North America. They are a delicacy, and hold a special place in the hearts of many Appalachians. Native Americans such as the Cherokee ate the plant and used it medicinally for a variety of purposes including as a spring tonic. Early European settlers learned how to Forage from the Indigenous People and continued to eat and use ramps medicinally. Ramps provide many nutrients and minerals and historically have been used to nourish people after harsh winters.

*RAMPS poisoness Look Alike

False hellebore (Veratrum) is a highly poisonous plant that can be mistaken for a prized wild edible, the wild leek, or ramp (Allium tricoccum)

Chicken of the Woods

Laetiporus sulphureus. Chicken of the woods is a sulphur-yellow bracket fungus of trees in woods, parks and gardens. They are delicious and are loved by many foragers, Native Americans, and Appalachians alike. The Native Americans taught the early settlers that these were edible and have been a favorite ever since. Chicken of the Woods is most likely to be found from August through October, but it can be found as early as May and up to December depending on where you live.

*These have a poisoness look alike, Jack O Lantern mushrooms

The Jack-o'-lantern mushroom should not be eaten because it is poisonous to humans. It contains toxic chemicals that can cause severe stomach upset accompanied by vomiting, diarrhea and headache

PawPaws

The Pawpaw Asimina triloba, is well loved by Appalachian locals as a native fruit with a tropical taste. Pawpaw fruit is the largest tree fruit native to the United States, and its custard-like flesh has been said to taste like a combination of banana, pineapple, and Mango. The pawpaw has been used by Native Americans for centuries for both its fruit and its medicinal properties. Many tribes, including the Osage and Sioux, ate the fruit; the Iroquois used the mashed fruit to make small dried cakes to reconstitute later for cooking. PawPaw season is late summer, look for the smell of rotting fruit, eat the ones that are squishy to the touch.

*They resemble mangos on the trees, many options to eat the ones that are on the floor already as they usually have ripened, but you can also ripen them at home.

Appalachia has a rich and beautiful history filled with magic and delicious food. But the only real way to learn about Appalachia is to visit it. Go and speak with locals, learn about the history, their delicious foods, and powerful Grandma magic, and you too will fall in love with Appalachia.

Thank you for sitting down and having Tea with me on the Other side of the Great Divide

[atticsandwich]

out of focus, eye to eye

pairing: beelzebub / gn! reader (mc)

fluff, the slightest of tension, food + you = a happy demon

The times Beel shows his love for you, not through words, but in the little things you didn't think he would notice.

(He does.)

happy birthday beel and belphie 🥹 i only had enough brain juice to write for one twin, i'll make it up to you soon bel, i promise

—

11:59.

You didn't usually crave for something to eat at the dead of night, especially with how hearty some dinners at the House of Lamentation can be. Today was no exception; Leviathan as the designated cook of the day laid out an entire spread of dishes from an anime he's been watching recently, his dedicated effort paying off with an across-the-board commendable feast.

Really, you had no business still being hungry after everything you ate, but your growling stomach commands otherwise.

"There should still be some leftover doughnuts from yesterday..." you think to yourself as you close the door of your room. Thankfully, the kitchen's right next door, but that also means you immediately notice the tell-tale signs of a very awake, very hungry demon.

"There goes my doughnuts..." a tragedy, considering nothing is safe when the Avatar of Gluttony is in one of his midnight fridge raids.

"Hm? Oh, you're awake. Were you hungry too?" you must've been standing there for quite a while now for Beel to notice you, as he waves and motions for you to come closer.

"Sort of, yeah," you reply, walking to his side. "Got anything for me?"

Wordlessly, considering he just shoved an entire cupcake in his mouth— sorry Asmo— he points to a familiar box towards the side.

"...Doughnuts? I thought you've eaten them by now," you say, pleasantly surprised. Taking the box from the fridge, you take a seat by the demon's side. Upon opening, you notice that although it was indeed already eaten from, two of the same ones were left as is.

"Hm...? These are..."

"They're your favorite kind, so I made sure to save them for you," Beel says it so nonchalantly, immediately resuming his fridge raid, but you can't help the butterflies that start twirling in your belly, hunger almost dissipated.

Taking a bite, you finally relish in fulfilling your sudden craving. A few more and half a doughnut's left, and you realize that Beel switched to looking at you eat, a fond smile in his face. You couldn't help but fluster at the attention, averting your gaze away from his.

"...You have some crumbs around your mouth," before you could say anything in reply, he takes his thumb and wipes the side of your lip, his eyes on you the entire time. You muttered a shy 'thank you' before he takes his own thumb to his mouth, clearing off the crumbs that were on yours.

"...Mmm, I get why they're your favorite. It's really good."

—

Lunchtime at R.A.D can sometimes be a life-or-death affair, especially when the cooks decide to put their best foot forward for the day. Today was one of those days— with a today's menu spread rivalling that of Ristorante Six, you can almost feel the overflowing anticipation seconds before the bell rings.

5 seconds...

At this point, nobody's listening to the professor, but the fidgeting figures of students eager to dash out is quite a sight.

3 seconds...

Being human meant being at a disadvantage, you thought. Yes, your magical prowess is pretty prominent, but the average demon can still physically overpower any regular human.

1 second...

"Hey, did you want to eat out for lunch today?"

Beel's voice overtakes the blaring of the lunch bell, demons of all sizes rushing immediately towards the cafeteria. In the distance, you see Mammon's figure scrambling and slinking his way throught the crowd like a little snake— smart.

Yeah, there's no hope for you out there today.

"That sounds nice actually," you sigh wistfully. Maybe next time, after you get some wrestling pointers from Beel.

"Hell's Kitchen has some really good deals for lunch today, plus they have a new dish I really wanna try," you walk out the room with the demon, already daydreaming of his lunch spread.

"Don't worry. Next time, I'll carry you on my shoulders so we can run through the lunch crowd together," he must've noticed how you were staring at the cafeteria earlier. You gave him a reassuring smile, as if telling him you're fine.

"Thanks, Beel. But you're capable enough as is now, so... don't you want to try the chef specials today?"

"Well, yes, but I could always do that another time. I'd rather eat lunch with you," the earnesty in his voice gave you butterflies again, and you hope you're hiding how flustered you are now sufficiently.

"...I'd rather eat lunch with you too, Beel."

He hums happily in response, taking your arm on his own. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze, and you give him a squeeze back.

—

Sorcerer training days with Solomon varied in difficulty each week; sometimes you two would simply brew a bunch of potions together, while other times he'd have you cast a variety of spells in succession, often resulting in you tiring out your magic reserves.

Unfortunately for you, today was spell day.

You almost always came home late during these kinds of days too— which meant dinner was usually done by the time you got home. You usually didn't mind, as it also meant the house was a lot more quiet, with the brothers all retreating to their rooms for their end-of-the-day routines. After grabbing a quick bite to eat, you head to your room, fully prepared to just collapse in bed.

Weird— was my room this tidy when i left this morning?, you wondered, but who were you to look a gift horse in the mouth? Your study area was organized, the room smelt like fresh linen and citrus, and your bed—

Ah.

Beel has his head laid on your mattress while seated on the floor, letting off the smallest of snores. You let out an endeared sigh, approaching the large demon, analyzing his face as he slept before you gently tapped his shoulders to try wake him up. The demon grumbles in response, eventually slowly opening his eyes. When he finally notices you, he opens them fully, before pulling you down for a hug.

"You're back," you can feel him smile in the embrace. Although tired, you try to return the hug as best you can.

"Were you the one who cleaned my room?"

"Yeah," he nods in confirmation. "You looked more tired recently, so I wanted to help out. But, uh... I think I got some crumbs on the floor from eating while I was waiting for you. Sorry..."

You laugh again, pulling the both of you up from the floor to sit on the bed.

"Thank you, Beel. That was very thoughtful of you," you give his nose a little peck, and it's adorable the way he hums happily in response, clearly content with your satisfaction (and kiss). You sometimes wonder what you did to deserve someone like Beel, but then again, if you told your younger self the life you're living now, you'd probably look at yourself crazy.

"Well, since you're already here and I woke you up, let's just sleep together," you suggest, patting on the opposite side of your bed as an invitation. It's amazing how those string of words instantly light up his face.

"Really?" he asks, although he's already walking to the other side of the bed, already accepting the invite.

Quickly changing into your sleep clothes, you dive into bed right next to him, his arms open and ready to slot you in. You fit in his hold just right, and you inhale the distinct scent of wood and vanilla— which, coupled with how one of his hand is softly stroking the back of your head, quickly lulls you into comfort, your eyes starting to droop.

"G'night Beel," you say, sleepily.

"Goodnight," he returns, before leaning down to plant a small kiss on the crown of your head, and another on your forehead.

As you finally succumb to the world of dreams, the last thing you hear a small hum and a whisper of "I love you."

Tomorrow, you'll say it back to him first thing in the morning.

—

tags: @insomniachox

[still-a-morosexual-help]

So I'm pretty sure general MC's Sin is Gluttony

Hear me out;

It's 100% not Sloth. They're very active and hard-working - both mentally and physically.

It's not Pride either, specially considering how blunt they are - how they feel no shame or hesitation when expressing their feelings/emotions/wants. They're not too proud to accept help (though they may hesitate to ask), to do and say what they want, to be as goofy and dumb as they want etc

It's not Greed either as they have no problem lending money to Mammon. And even though they're good at gambling it isn't an often visited activity. And even though they like material items and want money it's in a more general manner than in one associated with Greed.

It's not Envy because they're awfully self-assured and know they can do things or get good at things without being envious of others. They're also highly adaptable to different situations so they won't feel Envious of others while in a new situation. They do feel jealousy over their partner(s) but it's not that regular of an occurrence.

It's not wrath, they're incredibly patient and are able to tolerate most things. When they do get angry, though, it tends to be pretty explosive but it's also very rare and they calm down soon after. They do have a really evil glare though.

MC's level of Lust depends totally on the individual players and their choices and so can't be considered.

Gluttony on the otherhand?

• MC hides sweets in their room.

• They always have food on hand to give Beel.

• They're very good at cooking.

• They're able to eat food from both the Celestial Realm and Devildom with no alterations done to said food, something regular humans can't do.

• Beels notes that they loose weight whenever they come back from the human realm.

• In S4 Levi notes that they tend to pile food at the buffet instead of taking a little and going for seconds

• Beel assumes they'll be able to eat a 20(?) layered sandwich and is in no way suprised if they agree

• In the parfait memory card with Mammon, Asmo & Levi one of the choices the players are given isn't really a choice at all since both boil down to MC saying "can we just eat now"

• In the memory card with Lucifer, Mephisto & Diavolo as compensation for helping Lucifer with his paperwork they ask to get treated to dinner (and no not in "take me on a dinner date" way, it was the not romantic option and was said in a "then buy me food asshole" way)

• They seem to actually enjoy the Devildom's food which all sounds very....um.....yknow

• They were willing to forgive Lucifer trying to purposefully poison them because he offered them Barbatos's cake

• There's another 2 or 3 incidents from recent devilgrams/events I unlocked but I can't remember what they were other than me going "oh! I should add this to the gluttony list!" so y'all are just gonna have to trust me on this one until I find/remember them

[iisasarcasticlittleshite]

An Innocent Mistake (Part 1)

"Tell me again how... this happened?"

Lucifer pinches the knot at the bridge of his nose, exasperated, exhausted, and feeling the headache already forming in the five seconds since he walked through the doors of Purgatory Hall.

Solomon smiles in that sheepishly suspicious way of his, neither innocent, nor guilty. It's infuriating, especially when the sorcerer sits directly beside the proof of his crimes. "It was an accident, a miss-translation in the texts we were working from."

Lucifer glares down his nose at the tiny, cat-sized dragon curled up on the cushion beside Solomon, blinking up at him innocently in the way only MC can get away with.

"Miss-translation my-" Lucifer found himself stopping mid-word, averting his eyes from the now draconian human, as if his mind wasn't already conjuring images of them begging him not to get upset. "Fix this, now."

"About that..." Solomon trailed off, about to launch into an explanation of how and why he couldn't just change MC back into a human, but Lucifer held up a hand, his scowl only deepening.

"Don't, I don't want to hear it. I'm taking MC home, find a way to fix this, or there will be consequences, understood?"

Even under the full weight of Lucifer's glare, Solomon's smile didn't falter. "I'd expect nothing less."

The eldest huffed, gently holding his hand out to MC, unsure of how well they've adapted to their new form. He can't say he's ever seen a human shape-shifted into a dragon before, let alone one the size of an average house cat.

"Come, we have some explaining to do at the House of Lamentation."

MC perked up, gingerly climbing up his arm, with sharp, needle like claws. Lucifer didn't so much as feel a thing through all of his layers, but he had to fight off a smile when they settled themselves around the back of his neck, their tiny snout barely brushing the shell of his ear.

The eldest didn't spare Solomon another word before storming out of Purgatory Hall, firmly ignoring the sorcerer's smug grin.

"I warned you about him." Lucifer muttered as soon as they were clear of prying ears. "How am I supposed to explain this to the others?"

MC let out a chirp as if in apology, tail gently coiling around his tie as they rubbed their cheek against his.

"No amount of pouting will convince me to hide you from them. They are intolerable every time you leave without warning."

A louder chirp this time, almost like a puppy's yip, and Lucifer can't keep the scowl on his face.

"Asmodeus is going to have a field day."

"OH EM GEEE!" Asmodeus' squeal was loud enough to deafen a grown demon, Lucifer had barely had time to spit out the explanation as to why he had a tiny dragon on his shoulders before the Avatar of Lust was immediately pouncing on him, sticking his face as close as he could get to MC, practically hanging off Lucifer. "You were cute before MC, but this is just unfair! Look at you!"

The resulting shove that came from Lucifer had little MC spreading their wings, flying clumsily onto the back of Beel's armchair, answering Lucifer's unasked question of how they adapted to a new body.

Beel looked at them curiously, and MC hissed, as if to remind him not to eat the dragon.

"You really are adorable." Said the Avatar of Gluttony. "Kinda skinny though, you must be hungry."

"There's no way that's MC!" Mammon wailed. "Ye're pullin' our legs!"

"I assure you, I am not, and why would I?" Lucifer huffed, his headache only getting worse as MC's tail flicked back and forth behind them, eyes flickering between the brothers periodically.

"I dunno, but I don't buy it!" Mammon continued. "If that's MC, I'll eat my left-mmm!"

A squawk from the dragon, and Mammon's hand clapped over his own mouth as if it had a mind of its own, silencing the greedy demon's tirade.

Belphie chuckled sleepily. "Yup, that's MC alright."

"Fascinating." Satan mused, gazing curiously at the poised little dragon, who chirped back at him as if showing off their new form with pride. "I wonder what the actual translation was, if a mistake led to this."

"I scarcely want to know."

"How long are they gonna be stuck like this?" Belphie asked.

MC has now made their way to where Leviathan is curled up on the sofa, his face burning red as they gently rubbed their head against his silken hair.

"I think Levi might blow a fuse..." Asmo giggled. "They're cute, huh Levi?"

"Guh, so kawaii..." Mumbled Levi, too quiet for anyone to hear, except MC, who slipped into his lap and curled up like a cat.

Levi.exe stopped working.

"Solomon is looking for a solution. In the meantime, they can't stay in their own room, they could hurt themselves." Lucifer said, moving on from Envy's flustered crisis.

The room erupted with demands for MC to stay with them, and while they bickered, the dragon merely huffed, resting their head on Levi's knee, waiting for someone to be the voice of reason.

Finally, it was decided that MC would pick a name at random out of a hat, and that would be who they stayed with that night, and so on until a solution was found, and Solomon changed them back.

Part 2 Here

[takami-takami]

For His Pleasure.

kinktober day 1: love bites.

includes— hawks x reader. minors dni. smut.

warnings— gn!reader. keigo is such a good boy. slight masochism. marking. 

More often than not, a canvas takes the form of the flesh when it comes to Keigo Takami. 

Your breath fogs back against your lips when you're this close to the piercable skin of his neck. You dip down, fangs bared, and he cranes his neck so far back it could just about snap. A carnivorous, masochistic ringing in his mind won't let him forget how he wants nothing more than to expose the entire surface to you— to only you, vulnerable and ripe to be marked like a nametag signed into the flesh. 

Panting below you is a man who tends to hold little back. You've come to expect him in the raw. Frankly, you prefer it that way. It's advantageous to your relationship in every sense, pulling you closer together as you weave through challenges with ease, armed with communication as the hot knife that slices through the thick of conflict. 

But in the bedroom, that communicative nature of his translates quite nicely into behavior that is oh so responsive.

With his hands propped behind him to keep his body stable, you straddle him and mark his skin; and Keigo has never sounded as pliable as he does now. 

"This here," you whisper, tracing a finger from the center of his chin down his bobbing Adam's apple. "This is mine, baby." 

It is. You swear you catch the sweetest coo of agreement bubbling in his throat as you work on his flesh, his nape bared further by the way he lets his head fall back slack. Golden tufts are splayed against bare shoulders, cascading over the curvature of muscles formed to carry fierce wings. It brushes against his bare skin with each labored breath, and his head dips back like a strawberry in melted chocolate, decadent in its indulgence. 

Inside, he invites you, and you're willing to crawl.

Sticking up in wild tufts, you could count the mussed strands of hair poking in every direction atop his head. Memories depicting how you played with and pulled them flash in your mind's eye, reminding you of how the soft texture felt running like water through the valleys between your fingers.

You discovered it pretty early on in your relationship: the pretty boy likes his hair pulled. It's an activity that soothes him, the controlled sparks of pain pulling a lopsided smile as he spills the prettiest moans. 

"More— Harder,” he begs. “Please, angel, gimme more."

Keigo doesn't want to look perfect. He wants to look taken. He wants to look loved. 

Most nights, he studies your work like a ritual. He stands before the bathroom mirror after you've finished each masterpiece, admiring the blooming bruises that burst forth in shades of red and violet for longer than he probably should. Barely suppressing a giddy smile, Keigo simply walks past the comb on the counter without a second thought, opting to keep the mess that is his hair intact before he returns to bed— before he returns to you.

Yeah, he definitely prefers this look to the one suggested by his hairstylist.

For as selfless as Hawks is at his core, gluttony is a language Keigo speaks fluently when he allows himself to; when it's safe to, when it doesn't affect his work, when he can sink his teeth into the concentrated comfort and moan like a goddamn whore once it bursts in his mouth. 

Concentrated methods of comfort... It's an amicable way to describe a vice.

It keeps him sane. 

You noticed it first with food; with the way he glues his eyes shut and sighs, chewing agonizingly slow with his eyes rolled back, letting the flavors burst atop his palette. He only allows the delicacy to be swallowed down his throat after every bit of pleasure has been milked to the fullest. 

It's even more apparent in his slouch when he sinks into the scalding burn that fills his porcelain tub after work. You’ve taken the pleasure of watching him sink alongside you, submerged down to the nose as the heat melts the crackling neurons that sing in his brain. It's evident in the way he throws his head back and sucks his teeth at the patter of the showerhead against his back, how his breathing slows to panting groans the moment he turns the knob as hot as it will go. 

And here in the sanctity of your bed, Keigo sits poised, the picture of blissed out debauchery. His eyes haven't peeked open in some time; if that and the labored rise and fall of his chest is any indication, he's fallen too far down to pleasure to be reasoned with. 

Good. 

You like a man you can bend.

"You're so good to me." Another moan slips out at a nip against his jaw. His pleasure-drunk smile never wavers, even when he raises one hand to paw at the bend of your hips. Like this, he can slide his calloused hands along the divots imprinted by his teeth, ghosting against each bruise with a glint of conquest in his eyes. 

With each mark sucked into his skin, a plethora of sounds grace your ears: hisses, whimpers, outright and unabashed moans. 

"Gonna show me off, baby?" The ghost of his stolen air creaks when he speaks. His word choice is an attempt to sound cocky, you’re sure, but an unmistakable whine laces that breathless tone. 

Still running his mouth even as he squirms, you appraise. You roll your eyes; but you can't find it in you to judge when he sounds this happy. 

Rosy cheeks and a toothy grin; this is what Keigo wears when he's experiencing true happiness. In the solace of your bed, his customer service façade drops to the floor alongside his clothes to reveal his innermost sunshine you've come to adore. 

"Mark me up and show 'em. All of this s'yours."

He arches his back, bowing off the bed in a manner more reminiscent of a feline than a bird; and you can’t help but dive into him, feeding off his indulgence once more. 

…

There's a pep in his step when he swipes his ID card with a flourish at the front desk this morning. 

Keigo flips a kick and a stutter with the rhythm of his walk, coat flaring with his little spin as he swings open his office door. When the people around him snap their necks to gawk, their head-turning stares are simply met with a dopey smile and a wave.

Your relationship going public was the best thing to ever happen to him. 

Some commission executive glares down her nose at his neck, glasses glinting a reflection of the light in Keigo’s eyes. 

I know, right, he wants to say, lovesick and claimed at last. 

[growingstories]

A royal affair

In Madrid in 1850, there lived a skilled bullfighter named Gonzalo, who at the age of 24 possessed remarkable looks and height that made him stand out in the crowds of that era. Followed by big and adoring crowds, Gonzalo followed in the footsteps of his famous bullfighter father. People flocked to see him not only defeat the mighty bulls but also to catch a glimpse of his handsome features. Women drooled over him, while men became envious of his courage. With each fight, the size of the bulls in the arena grew, and the stadium became increasingly packed with spectators.

One fateful day, Prince Alfonso, the second son of King Carlos, attended Gonzalo's fight as a devoted fan. Gonzalo was honored by the Prince's presence and had the chance to meet him after the intense battle. Prince Alfonso found himself charmed by the handsome fighter and promised to bring along friends and family to witness Gonzalo's next fights. True to his word, the news spread like wildfire, and when people learned of the Prince's intention to bring royal and aristocratic guests, the stadium overflowed with eager spectators. People paid exorbitant sums of money to see Gonzalo face the bulls and catch glimpses of the high-ranking attendees. Gonzalo's income skyrocketed as a result, and he began living a life of and comfort luxury.

The Prince and his guests became regular attendees, closely following each fight and engaging in subtle flirtations with Gonzalo behind the scenes. Though they were both aware that their feelings for one another were forbidden due to their differing backgrounds and Catholic doctrine, they found it increasingly difficult to deny their growing attraction. Gonzalo became a frequent presence at parties and gatherings, his social encounters with the Prince becoming the ultimate goal for any host.

Following one particularly memorable party, Gonzalo was secretly led into the palace, where he and the Prince engaged in a passionate evening of love-making. The Prince made sure to provide his fighter with alcohol and snacks to restore his strength after the fights. Just before the onset of summer, during one of the final fights, the Prince arrived at the stadium accompanied by his father, the King, which elevated Gonzalo's status even further.

The crowd went wild, and after the fight, Gonzalo was publicly invited to the palace for a dinner celebration. First, he was granted private a audience with the King and Queen, during which the King expressed his admiration and pride. He mentioned knowing Gonzalo's father many years ago and expressed his desire to see Gonzalo more frequently. Following this special meeting, a lavish dinner commenced, overwhelming Gonzalo with the sheer quantity of food. He felt embarrassed to consume so much but was compelled to eat a little.

After the dinner, the Prince instructed Gonzalo to discreetly exit the palace and enter a carriage waiting around the corner. Following the Prince's instructions, Gonzalo found himself secretly escorted to the Prince's private chambers once again. To his surprise, a buffet of delectable desserts from the dinner awaited him. The Prince observed how the sight of the desserts had enchanted Gonzalo, yet he declined to indulge. Determined to satisfy his lover, the Prince prepared a massage, which soon led to passionate lovemaking. After their intimate encounter, the Prince indulged Gonzalo's love for food by feeding him in a frenzy of gluttony until Gonzalo could no longer move. The Prince found himself increasingly aroused by witnessing his lover enjoy the food, and their evening ended with incredible pleasure shared between them.

The following day, Gonzalo was quietly smuggled out of the palace once again, making his way back to his humble apartment. However, as he arrived, he was surprised to find the King's carriage waiting for him. Summoned by the King himself, Gonzalo was asked to come to the palace immediately. Intrigued and slightly apprehensive, he obliged.

Upon entering the palace, Gonzalo was greeted by a sumptuous breakfast laid out before him. The King sat across from him, looking regal and amiable. Over the course of their meal, the King explained that the court would be relocating from Madrid to Mallorca for three months during the summer, in order to escape the heat oppressive of the city. To Gonzalo's surprise, he was asked to join the court and be a part of their activities.

The King explained that Gonzalo would be expected to participate in one bullfight for the court and special guests every week, as well as join them for several lunches and dinners throughout the three-month period. In return, he would receive a generous payment and be provided with a Summer home near the palace, complete with staff. Intrigued by the prospects and still slightly hungover from the previous night's revelries, Gonzalo found himself tempted by the offer and agreed to join the court.

Before leaving, the King instructed Gonzalo to prepare all the necessary materials for his bullfights, as the courtiers would bring everything to the island. Over the next two weeks, Gonzalo was swept up in a whirlwind of events. Every night seemed to bring about a lavish dinner or reception to commemorate the end of the social season, and Gonzalo was invited to them all alongside his secret lover, the Prince. These events often culminated in passionate afterparties in the Prince's chambers, accompanied by an abundance of champagne and extravagant snacks.

As the weeks went by, Gonzalo found himself indulging in the excesses of courtly life. His once athletic physique slowly gave way to the comfort of rich meals, leaving his abs hidden beneath a layer of flab. While the bullfights themselves went well, the absence of many guests made them somewhat dull and lackluster. Each fight was followed by lengthy, opulent dinners. Unfortunately, the Prince, who was often out sailing with his friends, had little time for Gonzalo, leaving him with little to do but consume whatever food was placed before him.

One night, while alone in his private chambers, the King summoned Gonzalo and confessed that he desired private company, as the days on the island were often long and lonely. Feeling obliged and somewhat confused, Gonzalo reluctantly agreed. The following day, he accompanied the King on various trips around the island, during which they indulged in heavy breakfasts, fatty lunches, and lavish dinners, all accompanied by copious amounts of alcohol. A few days into this arrangement, the King surprised Gonzalo with an unexpected kiss in the palace gardens. Unsure of what to do, Gonzalo reciprocated, believing that he had no choice but to comply with the king's desires. This continued for several days until the Prince returned.

When the Prince saw Gonzalo after his absence, he couldn't help but notice his lover's growing belly. Teasing him playfully, the Prince commented that court life seemed to have been treating him well. Unaware of his father's own desires and intentions towards Gonzalo, the Prince remained blissfully ignorant. During a lunch, the Prince proposed taking Gonzalo on a boat tour, but the King interjected, refusing the idea. Though the lunch had not yet concluded, the King insisted that Gonzalo join him to explore the city of Palma instead. Gonzalo was forced to endure another two courses before the King deemed it enough.

During this time, the Prince shared with Gonzalo that he would be waiting for him at the Summer house before dinner. Several hours later, after strolling through the scenic streets of Palma with the King, Gonzalo was dropped off at his Summer home. As anticipated, the Prince was eagerly waiting for him, delighted to finally have some time alone together. Amidst their reunion, their deep affection for one another manifested in a passionate encounter, a welcome release after weeks of separation. They made plans to reconvene at the Summer house after dinner, cherishing the stolen moments they managed to share.

During the long and extravagant dinner, the King made sure that multiple courses were served, prolonging the meal for hours. Just before dessert, the King decided to take a stroll through the garden and invited his son and Gonzalo to join him. The men engaged in lively conversation as they walked. The Prince, feeling exhausted and hoping for an early exit, asked the King if he and Gonzalo could be excused before dessert. However, the King adamantly refused and led the men back inside.

Inside, a grand dessert buffet awaited them. Gonzalo, conscious of his tightening uniforms and the need to maintain his physical agility for bullfighting, only took a small portion. He didn't want to trouble the tailor with new uniforms. Unfortunately, the King had different plans in mind. He ordered servants to pile every dessert onto Gonzalo's plate and demanded that he eat all of it. Despite feeling stuffed after the sixth plate, Gonzalo was presented with four more. Perplexed, the Prince questioned his father's insistence on serving Gonzalo more desserts. The King replied that he saw Gonzalo's unwillingness to join him for the summer as ingratitude, as he had offered Gonzalo the opportunity to spend time with him, the King, but Gonzalo opted to spend time with the second Prince instead. According to the King, Gonzalo needed to act like a grateful guest and comply with his wishes. In silence, Gonzalo consumed everything that was offered to him, growing increasingly sick and sweaty but unable to stop for fear of disappointing the King.

After two torturous hours, the King finally declared that the dinner was over. He informed the Prince and Gonzalo that they were expected the following morning for a meeting with the Cardinal. Frustrated with the events of the evening, the Prince sneaked out of the palace and went to spend the night at Gonzalo's house. Gonzalo, feeling confused and already uncomfortably full, had no desire for any additional activities. He hoped that the Prince would find a solution to this predicament because at this rate, he knew he wouldn't be able to continue his bullfighting career much longer. The next morning, they returned to the palace, ready for their meeting with the Cardinal.

The Cardinal, a very large 45 years old with a handsome face, joined them at the table, where an extravagant breakfast had been prepared by the servants. Eager not to repeat the previous night's embarrassment, Gonzalo tried to eat in moderation but was careful not to refuse any offerings. The King, completely focused on the Cardinal, instructed the servants to bring more and more food. When the Cardinal politely tried to decline, the King insisted and ordered a large birthday cake to be brought out. The Cardinal, unable to refuse, reluctantly consumed another slice. Despite his discomfort and aching stomach, the King persisted and offered him yet another slice. Sweating and in considerable pain, the Cardinal finally had enough when the King suggested they take a walk. Gonzalo and the Prince observed their struggle from afar.

During a brief moment alone, the Cardinal warned Gonzalo to steer clear of the King if he wished to avoid a fate similar to his own. He confessed that, 20 years prior, he had been in prime physical condition, much like Gonzalo. The King, charmed by him due to his courtier status and wealthy background, had coveted him for himself. The Cardinal, however, had other plans. He intended to marry and manage his family estate. Nevertheless, the King proposed a cardinalship to his family to ensure his constant presence at the palace. Bound by duty to his devoutly Catholic family, the Cardinal could not refuse this honor. As a Cardinal, he became a regular attendee at events where the King would go to great lengths to flood him with excessive amounts of food. Powerless to refuse, the Cardinal tried to avoid attention and obediently followed the King's every command. With his growing size, the King gradually left him alone more often and ceased the flirtatious gestures and kisses during their walks. As the King and the Prince returned, the Prince was instructed to discuss the budget for a local church renovation with the Cardinal, while the King requested Gonzalo's company for a walk. Aware of what would transpire, Gonzalo resigned himself to the situation and accompanied the King. The King lavished Gonzalo with compliments and, at a discreet moment, resumed kissing him, to which Gonzalo reciprocated. When Gonzalo returned home, he discovered a box containing a beautiful golden brooch adorned with sapphires and diamonds. A note enclosed read, "Thank you for your service, HM the King."

In that moment, the Prince appeared, asking how their walk had been. Gonzalo simply replied that it had been fine and that he was content to go along with it. The Prince agreed, and they once again engaged in passionate intimacy. Later that afternoon, Gonzalo found himself having to participate in a bullfight. He was uncomfortable fighting with his belly and tight uniform, but he managed to easily defeat the bull and put on a captivating show. During the fight, Gonzalo noticed the King flirting with a handsome courtier, the son of a Duke. He realized that this would be the King's next target, but also saw it as an opportunity to distance himself from King the. After the fight, the King approached Gonzalo and informed him that he had the night off, as he desired some rest. The Prince overheard their conversation and arranged a dinner for the two of them at Gonzalo's Summer house. It was a magical evening spent together, filled with intoxication, cuddling, and delightful food. However, the Prince shared some somber news - his father had ordered him to leave for one of colonies the in the Americas to serve as an ambassador for three years. Although it was far away, the Prince viewed it as an opportunity to learn about politics and experience the world. Thankfully, they still had three weeks left before the end of the Summer on the island.

The next morning, an unexpected servant arrived at Gonzalo's Summer house. The Prince hid while Gonzalo greeted the servant and received a summons from the King. He was to accompany the King on the royal yacht and pack for a week-long trip around the Balearic islands. The Prince rushed back to the palace to ask his father if he could join, but it was too late - the King had already departed. Gonzalo met the King on the yacht, which was grand and had its own cabin. There were numerous servants on board, as well as navy sailors to navigate the ship. They set sail immediately and enjoyed a modest breakfast, which relieved Gonzalo.

At the first stop, they took the opportunity to swim and indulge in some drinks. The King undressed, revealing his remarkable physique that he had maintained throughout his reign. On the other hand, Gonzalo's excessive meals had resulted in a noticeable belly. Initially embarrassed, Gonzalo was reassured by the King, who claimed responsibility for his weight gain and promised to provide him with less extravagant meals. Indeed, lunch was smaller than usual, and dinner at a local nobleman's mansion was equally lavish but with more restraint. Once back on the boat, they had a few more drinks and passionately kissed. This time, the King invited Gonzalo to his cabin, where they spent a passionate night together. The next morning, Gonz foundalo a beautiful gift awaiting him - a golden seal ring with his initials.

Over the next six days, they stopped at various coastal towns in the Balearic islands. It was a breathtaking tour, and wherever they went, they were showered with feasts and hospitality by local families noble. Each evening after dinner, Gonzalo was invited to the King's cabin. On the seventh day, they returned to the harbor of Palma, and the King informed Gonzalo that he was expected back at the palace the following morning. Upon arriving at his home, Gonzalo was greeted by the Prince, who was overjoyed to see him. Gonzalo was conflicted and unsure of what to do. Should he confess his affair with the King to his lover, or should he keep quiet? Ultimately, he decided not to anything reveal and simply expressed gratitude for the opportunity to explore the islands. The Prince hoped they could spend one week together before his departure to the for Americas three years and promised to request a week off from the King.

The next day, Gonzalo returned to the palace and had breakfast with the Prince, Cardinal, and the King. The breakfast was lighter than usual, and the Cardinal seemed relieved when it was over. The Prince asked his father for permission to go to Paris to prepare for his upcoming trip in peace, and the King granted his request. Gonzalo, on the other hand, requested to leave the island a week early to begin training, as he felt unfit. The King agreed, providing Gonzalo with four more days on island the before a week of pleasure with his lover. During these last few weeks, the King ensured that Gonzalo remained by his side at all times. The young courtier also accompanied them, and both he and Gonzalo were constantly offered excessive amounts of food. While young the courtier struggled with the quantity, Gonzalo grew accustomed to the immense feasts. The Prince watched with disgust as his father indulged in such behavior but remained silent. In the afternoons, the young courtier would join the King for a stroll, while Gonzalo was invited to the King's chamber at night once again for encounters passionate. Unbeknownst to the Prince, he began to worry about his father's intentions.

Upon arriving in Paris, the Prince organized a private dinner at a luxurious hotel. They became intoxicated together and walked through the streets of Paris, enjoying their anonymity. It was a refreshing experience for both of them, as they were able to momentarily escape their royal obligations and be ordinary individuals.

Eventually, it was time to bid farewell, and the Prince departed for the Americas. Back in Madrid, Gonzalo was once again invited to the palace. The King had organized a grand dinner with numerous noble guests, and Gonzalo became the subject of conversation due to his noticeable weight gain since his last appearance in Madrid. Embarrassed and unsure of what to do, Gonzalo turned to the King for guidance. The King asked why Gonzalo hadn't lost weight during his training week, causing him to blush and make excuses. Gonzalo claimed to have lost some weight, but his weight gain was simply difficult to notice. He further expressed the need to become fit again should the King wish for him to fight in a prominent stadium, as it could potentially endanger his safety. The King agreed to allow him to train more frequently and personally attended his sessions. The sight of Gonzalo accompanied by young stable hands in the stadium filled the King with jealousy, and he insisted on having lunch and dinner with Gonzalo every day. Despite Gonzalo's concerns that it would impede his weight loss progress, the King paid no heed. Instead, he made sure Gonzalo was served copious amounts of food, using it as a distraction to keep him occupied. At night, Gonzalo would stroll through the palace gardens before being invited to the King's chambers, where an array of cookies and pastries awaited. The King fed Gonzalo these treats during their intimate moments, increasing Gonzalo's arousal despite his heavy stomach. Gonzalo resigned himself to the situation, realizing he had little control over it.

Gonzalo requested one last bullfight to bid farewell to the crowd. The King applauded the idea and invited all his noble friends to attend. In between the immense lunches, dinners, and nightly feedings, Gonzalo trained as much as he could. It proved challenging with his protruding belly, and he worried about the potential consequences. Despite his efforts, Gonzalo continued to grow larger and larger. On the day of the fight, he felt an overwhelming nervousness. As he entered the arena, whispers filled the air, highlighting his substantial weight gain. Initially embarrassed, Gonzalo pushed through, determined to win his final battle. Glancing at the King, he noticed that the King was accompanied by the young courtier, who was also notably larger, and another young man. This sight enraged Gonzalo, and he saw an opportunity to teach them a lesson. He ate voraciously, consuming everything in front of him. No matter how hard they tried, Gonzalo out-ate the others. With aching stomachs and beads of sweat, they decided to go for a walk. The two courtiers were relieved. The walk proved difficult for Gonzalo after his long period of bedrest and increased weight. Sensing his struggles, the King suggested retiring to his chambers, where the feeding continued.

This pattern continued several nights a week, with occasional walks or outings without the courtiers. On the nights that they weren't invited, the King made sure there was an abundance of food to keep Gonzalo occupied. As the weeks passed, Gonzalo ballooned in size with no clear purpose in his life. Seeing this, the King offered him a position as the of head banqueting and protocol within the court. This meant overseeing all of the King's social gatherings and events, a fitting role for Gonzalo. A few nights a week, he would be invited into the King's chambers, and the rest of the time, he would ensure the King's needs were met, particularly when it came to the courtiers the King surrounded himself with. Gonzalo saw this as an opportunity to fatten up the courtiers, just as the King had done to him, before eventually sending them away. And so, Gonzalo embraced his role, making sure the courtiers grew in size until they were deemed ready for departure.

As time went on, Gonzalo continued to expand, indulging in his new position. With no true purpose in life, he allowed himself to eat excessively, growing larger each day. He approached the King, seeking guidance on how this lifestyle would continue. The King expressed a desire to keep Gonzalo close but exclusively not. He explained that the court would gossip, creating an embarrassment for the King. The King proposed that Gonzalo become the provider of all the courtiers' needs, in addition to his existing responsibilities. Gonzalo accepted, realizing that this would allow him to ensure the courtiers became as big as the King desired before they were sent away.

Ultimately, the story ends with Gonzalo growing himself in his new role, facilitating the indulgence of the courtiers and succumbing to his own insatiable appetite.