#WITH SIN HELP BECAUSE SIN HELPS CLEAN THINGS UP BETTER THAN ME

[princesssmars]

thinking of karlach who once her engine cools off goes fucking ballistic. nsfw, fem! reader, me being horny for karlach because who isn't. baldur's gate 3 spoilers! i've only finished act one so i start improvising shit.

now, for a woman who has not been able to have even a hint of physical contact for ten years, you have to give her her flowers with how well she seems to deal with being incredibly emotionally and sexually frustrated.

but once she joins your party that hold she had over her body and brain starts to crack. fast.

hell, it started happening before the two of you became romantically involved. while she was drawn to you from the moment you said "yes" to helping a stranger kill a building full of people, she also had eyes and constantly wondered how everyone in the party was so attractive. astarion was never not flirting with someone, wyll was incredibly kind to her, and she could tell when shadowheart was admiring her physique...

but after a few weeks of traveling, fighting, and making friends for the first time in years, eventually during those quiet nights at camp she finds you invading her mind her mind when she rests in her tent to fall asleep, kind of like the parasite, but in a good way.

she thinks of a joke you you made when the two of you were eating by the fire that made her snort like a pig, the way you explored a dungeon and when you found a magical war axe immediately turned to her and gave it to her with a smile, how you so quickly stood up for her when wyll was adamant on killing her because of her past.

your kindness, your intelligence (she's amused when you act like a dumbass and fail when trying to persuade someone), just everything about you, it was only a matter of time before she asked you to join her when everyone fell asleep one night, talking about how you thankfully return her feelings. it takes a turn when you bring up how her condition leaves her pent up, and as you're whispering the sinful things you cant wait to do to her and she do to you.

it hits her full force that oh, she does actually want to fuck your brains out.

after that night everything you do starts to turn her on. like, horrendously. eating a snack on the road? all she can focus on is the way your lips move around the fruit. dancing to a song volo is playing? she's becoming entranced by the way your hips and arms move to the music.

once when the sun was set and the moon was high she headed down to the lake, figuring the rest of the party had already cleaned themselves when she started to undress on the sand, standing still as a statue when she spots you in the middle of the lake, rinsing out your hair when you turn around to look at her.

she can see the water falling from your hair to your shoulders, dripping down over the peak of your nipples, some falling down your chest to between yours legs-

when she comes back later after running off, the ground where she stood was scorched.

but until her engine got fixed, her nights were spent inside her tent rubbing at her clit and fingering her cunt while pretending it was you. the only thing that makes it better is when she can tell you about all the naughty things she thinks about you and seeing you squirm.

once dammon gets another piece of infernal iron and gives her the final upgrade she needs to have physical contact, she at least has the courtesy to take you to a rented room in an inn before she ravages you.

shes tossing you on to the bed and wondering if she should slow down, take it slow with you for your first time together to make it all the more special, but you're staring at her while she's contemplating and youre taking off your top and then youre pants and then youre pulling her by the arm on top of you and she realizes she can save the softness for later.

there's so much kissing, pulling, biting and moaning that after both of your first two orgasms she starts to feel dizzy. she swears shes never felt a greater pleasure than when you were cumming on her fingers, or when you brought her hips up to your face and made her ride your tongue.

she reaches down to your bag that was throw haphazardly on to the floor earlier and finds the toy you bought, the tiefling smiling so brightly her fangs are on full display as she aligns the double sided dildo with your entrance, nearly going cross eyed at the way it slips inside of you before she sticks the other end into her.

she throws your legs over her shoulders, hold your hands in hers, and starts thrusting so quickly its almost like she's afraid she'll die if she stops.

and she is. she has never felt as good as she does in this moment, fucking the toy into you before feeling it do the same to her every time she pulls her hips back.

shes thinking about how much she loves you when she feels your right hand claw at her back.

shes wondering how someone can be so damn beautiful when you arch your back and nearly scream out her name.

she can barely contain herself when she thinks about how she gets to fuck you like this for the rest of her life when her hand leaves yours and grabs onto the wooden bedpost.

your moans of ecstasy reach a pitch and her eyes are taking in every detail as you come undone, to the heaving of your chest and the fluttering of your lashes. its your gentle whisper of her name and a gentle kiss to her lips that tips her over the edge, grinding her hips faster to the point it starts to hurt and she feels her hands tightening and tightening-

her high feels like it lasts forever before she comes back down to earth, breathing heavy with a dopey smile on her face when she looks at you. she's confused by the look on your face, similarly blissed out but your cheeks are bunched up in that way that means youre trying to hold in a laugh...

its only then she starts to feel it : a large chunk of the headboard is in her hand, snapped almost clean off from the rest of in im the height of her euphoria. she cant help but laugh which makes you finally laugh which just makes you laugh harder.

she drops the wood and shakes her hand of any splinters when your hands are wrapping around her neck and pulling her back into you.

she doesn't feel that bad about it.

i've resorted to getting ideas from both dreams and those thoughts you turn into stories while trying to go to sleep im like a genius. i put this in the queue posted it and it only showed up on my blog whats with that.

[dunmeshistash]

I've had the discussion about on my mind for a while and it's made me start to believe that the Canaries, like many real world criminals, were involved in crimes but were given unfair punishment because the involvement is never specified and that's on purpose. Lycion and Cithis have life sentences, but Lycion's time in the fighting pit was done in a dungeon and dungeons closely monitored by Canaries. It's possible he was scooped up by someone who noticed his potential as a Canary after Utaya thinned the ranks so much.

Cithis may have murdered in self defense, which is still murder, but it shouldn't give her a life sentence. But if they noticed her magic specialty, the Dungeon Investigation Unit leadership may have decided she's useful and drummed up her charges to pull her in.

Fleki? Having drugs is legal for spell casters, especially familiar uses. But Fleki was arrested for position of ancieny artifacts. What for? She's shown no interest in ancient artifacts. Did she have it by accident. Did someone plant it on her because they noticed her capability with a familiar was better than others?

With Otta, it's entirely possible her human trafficking charge was because she was trafficked, not because she DID trafficking. This happens in real life. Equally, she may have been charged with human trafficking for helping people who the Elf Queen and their government wasn't fond of get out of the country.

I'm not going to say their hands are clean of any sin, but given how the long-lived races also have a lot of practices that convey real life imperialist governments, it's easy to see where there's room for interpretation.

In real life modern California in the U.S., incarcerated people are forcefully volunteered to fight wildfires on the ground at the risk of their lives because there's not enough firefighters as is to cover what's necessary. It's possible the Canaries are are in a similar situation.

This isn't meant to be argumentive or anything, but I think it's neat that even with all the solid details and interesting things laid out, Ryoko Kui was able to still able to leave things vague enough for interpretation. If anything, I should thank you for giving me more interesting ways to look at what material we've been provided.

Fleki was selling the ancient artifacts but yeah I don't doubt they have been unfairly put in this situation, several times they talk about how understaffed the Canaries are and how they always need more prisoners, Fleki might not have a life sentence but she basically does since her sentence is so long she'll be dead of very old when it's over and all she did was sell it.

[little-lost-lamb]

The Sting of Envy Pt. 2

CW: GN!MC, hurt/comfort, angst, occult practice, fluff, Demons Being Overall Taller Than Humans On Average, Mention of Israeli food, and - of course - jealousy. Please let me know if there is anything I didn't think to add!

<- Part 1

I want to thank everyone for their support of my first part! I've been out of the writing game for a long time, and it really helped motive me to continue!

_____________________________________________________________

Beelzebub 

Beelzebub tells anyone who asks that his favorite food is cheeseburgers, but this is not quite true. His favorite food is your cooking. So when you keep serving him warm, fresh-baked bread and crispy spinach salad topped with handpicked flowers and nuts and creamy, piping hot wild mushroom risotto and seconds and thirds and FOURTHS, he is in the Celestial Realm. He supposed the menu was carefully thought out, showcasing ingredients locally in season for the spring. He loved human realm food. It reminded him of you, and not just because it’s native the human realm - human cuisine had the capacity for both the sinful and the divine. Just like you. And so, the meal had him nearly moaning in ecstasy against his spoon.

“This is incredible, MC.” Solomon says, meticulously scooping a perfectly balanced bite of rice, cheese, mushroom, and chive. “This is even better than the risotto we had in that little place in Rome. What was that place called?” Solomon looks at you and thoroughly cleans the risotto off his spoon with his mouth. You laugh.

“Solomon, no, no way! That stuff was next level!”

Solomon shrugs before going in for another bite off his plate. “I’m telling you, yours is better.”

“When were you in Rome?” Lucifer inquires, cocking his head with interest. “When did you have the time?”

“Couple Tuesdays ago, I think.” Solomon muffled between bites while Barbatos shot him a look that told him to chew before speaking. Solomon shrugged it off. “Sometimes when we feel like eating out, we’ll go wherever the cuisine strikes our fancy. MC takes me to this Israeli restaurant in New York City about every other week!”

Beel’s brow furrows as he goes in for another bite. It sounds like before you left, what you and he used to do together. Schedule permitting, you were always down to take him wherever his stomach led him. Hell’s Kitchen for the third time that week? Sure! That brand new place with the deep fried vampire bats on sticks? You bet! They restocked flame-charred bone flavored ice cream at the stand down the street from RAD? You might even be willing to skip Chaos Theory to go with him! 

Your foodie dates were one of his all-time favorite things you did together.

“Pfft. You know I can’t do teleportations that big or that frequently yet. You take me.”

Like how Beel would take you all over town, farther if they had some spare time, to try all that the demon realm had to offer. You couldn’t always eat it, you didn’t always like it, but you were always down to try demon cuisine. Try new things in general. He loved that about you.

“Agree to disagree.” Solomon leaned a little closer to you. “I just appreciate you escorting me on so many dates.”

You shrug nonchalantly. “I’m just in it for the falafel.” 

Solomon chuckles and smiles fondly at you. He gently tucks a pesky piece of hair behind your ear, keeping it from flying into your mouth with your bread. “Try the hamin next time. I think you’ll like it.”

The heat rose in Beel cheeks, and he subtly sighed out some of his frustration through his nostrils. He glances briefly over to Belphie, and they communicate something to each other with their eyes. Finally, Beel puts his spoon down and Belphie shrugs, picking up another bite with his own.

“I’m done.” Beel says softly.

Not full. Never full. Done.

After everyone has finished with ample time for conversation, you shuffle back to the kitchen to get the desserts. You had prepared an assortment of fresh berries and cream with honey cakes. 

“Beel! Can you help me carry this?” You shout, and you lean casually against the counter to wait for him.

“Carry what?” Beel walks in to help and looks around for the heavy item only for his eyes to fall on the light-weight desserts. “Just…need some extra hands?” Beel asks as he reaches for the dish, but you stop him with a hand on his.

“Are you okay? You didn’t eat much.” You look up into his face, recognizing sadness in it. 

“I ate 5 or 6 plates.”

You raise an eyebrow. Beel sighs, gently reaching for your hand and holding it firmly in his own to ground himself.

“You don’t…like the food here more than in the devildom, do you?”

Your brows furrow with concern. “You…know I do. Most of it won’t kill me.”

Beelzebub shakes his head quickly. “My fault, bad question. New question: do you enjoy…” Beel’s voice cracks ever so slightly. “Do you like eating with Solomon more? You know…than me?”

Yours eyes widen in horror and your heart cracks. All you can think to do is throw yourself into his enormous frame. You bury your face into the soft fabric of the shirt before turning your head to speak, still resting your cheek against his quickly-thumping chest. 

“You’re upset because you and I go out on foodie tours and stuff too, right? It’s our thing.”

“It’s our thing.” Beel answered, wrapping his arms around you firmly. You feel the point of his chin rest against the top of your head.

“And it will always be our thing. Solomon and I eat out so often out of necessity. I don’t always have the energy to focus on planning and making our meals, and the man can’t cook, Beel. Then the human realm's food will kill me.”

You got a smile out of Beel on that one.

“But with you, we go out, and we shove things I once couldn’t even conceptualize down my gullet. You show me fun and fantastical foods I wouldn’t try on my own. That I couldn’t try. We don’t have that stuff here. It’s an experience. You are an experience. And you’re my favorite.”

You lean back just a little, separating only enough to see a wide grin and misty eyes. You reach over and stick your clean finger into the bowl of cream before smearing it playfully on Beel’s lips. 

“Oops!” You exclaim, smearing it on his lips. You raise up and squish the cream against Beels lips with your own. You hear a dreamy sigh from him before he pulls away and licks his lips. A giddy giggle escapes his creamy mouth. He reaches for the cream too, except he takes a thick glob and smears it from your cheek, across your mouth, and down your neck. 

“Oops.”

He starts with your neck.

Belphegor

They said to make himself at home, so he will, thank you very much. Now where was MC’s bed?

He passes the bathroom and opens the knob to a door nearby, figuring this was probably it, and he pushes it open with the subtle crack of the doorframe. He is immediately punished with a wave of Solomon’s scent - a musky mix of exotic spice and  incense smoke. Yours was thickly mixed into the sorcerers, the fusion of smells emanating from one bed in the center of the room. 

No. 

Belphie suddenly feels the irritated flick of his tail and the weight of his horns that have appeared against his will on his body. Shove it down, Belphegor.

He peels himself from the glue that binds his feet to the doorway and steps hesitantly into the room. The room reeks of Solomon, and not just from his scent. Glistening suncatchers whimsically dangle from the ceiling, one wall is adorned with old, dusty books from floor to ceiling, magical trinkets rest precariously on the edges of drawers, nightstands, and any other surface, and plants large and small sprout from the pots scattered around the room. There are countless empty mugs he has forgotten to bring back down to the kitchen shoved onto any previously vacant surface.

Belphie’s attention moves from one piece of junk to the next before focusing on the bed itself. It looked to be what the humans call a “full sized” bed, big enough for two humans to fit, though Belphie figures it’s only as big as he and Beel’s beds back home. Must be a tight squeeze for two. The fluffy blankets are crumpled disproportionately to one side while the other side is draped primarily with just the sheet. He presses a palm into the mattress and it sinks less readily than Belphie would like in a nest. He pictured the two of you picking it out together. 

“Now, MC,” Solomon would say in his smarmy tone, “It’s best to have a mattress that is somewhat firm. It deters one from oversleeping, and it will be good for your spine in the long run. Trust me, I know from experience that you’ll wish you had taken better care of your bones when you’re old.”

Belphie groans at the thought before dipping down into the side that smells most like you. Your scent is thick and fresh, as if you had slept there just last night. Belphie snarls and immediately jumps up, the propulsion of the springs hastening his movement.

I bet he doesn’t even take the time to nestle into their pillows Belphie thought to himself as he glared daggers at the side that smelled more like Solomon. To inhale their pheromones and feel enveloped their scent and appreciate it. 

Since you left, it wasn’t uncommon to catch even Lucifer resting in your bed on occasion. They were all guilty of it. It still retained your scent, and the brothers found that comforting late at night when they cannot escape their respective longing for you. Recently, though, the aroma has begun dissipating, a combination of time and the brothers’ own smells erasing your scent clinging to the fabrics. Belphie had been excited to take a few moments at least to dive into your sheets and smother himself with your scent. He could bring it home with him and savor it for at least a week if he didn’t wash his jacket. He could cling to the hoodie he wears tonight during his slumber and pretend you were still there with him, nestled against his body and in his bed. But it turns out the scent of your bed was contaminated.

Fortunately for his sanity, he didn’t smell certain hormones or fluids or anything to indicate any funny business happened between the two of you in these sheets. That’s for the best. If Belphie had been hit with the scent of lust mixed with the scents of the two of you, he thinks he would have vomited directly on your comforter.

“Did you find my bed? I knew you’d go looking for it.” You tease, clutching the rail as you stare innocently at him from the stairs. 

“Uhm. Yeah. I found it.” Belphie turns to face you from the room, and his eyes motion to the bed in front of him. He makes no attempt to hide the displeasure on his face. Surprise answers it on your own.

“Nope, that’s Solomon’s room.”

“I can smell you, MC.” Belphie’s eyes narrow as he  replies, pointing to the side piled with blankets, “You sleep on the left.”

“I hang out on the left.” You say, climbing the last few steps and joining him in Solomon’s room, “but I don’t sleep here, not usually anyway. I pass out sometimes, but we just watch shows and play games here a lot.” 

You point casually at the TV shoddily hung on Solomon’s wall opposite the bed. Wires poke haphazardly out the bottom and trail their way to a couple of consoles buried in junk beneath.

“There’s this cartoon I’ve been obsessed with recently that makes me think of you, actually. It’s about these kids who are cute little animals, and they go to camp on a magical island. It’s so soft and cozy and comforting…I keep falling asleep when I turn it on. I wish I could watch it with you. Maybe next time I’m in the demon realm, we can set it up in the attic.”

You pap on his bicep and signal him to follow you, flowing from Belphie’s side, out Solomon’s door, and to a second door Belphie had yet to open. 

Oh.

As you push the door in, a current of your sweet smell crashes like a wave over Belphie’s face. Your scent is like an intoxicating mixture of coffee, books, whiskey, and sugar all mixed together. You smell like home. A contented smile forms and he makes his way to you, careful to seal Solomon’s scent away with the bedroom door on his way out. 

You’re suddenly thrusted into a brief whirlwind of confusion as you’re grappled by Belphie, knocked off your feet and plopped down unharmed into the comfort of your bed. Your bed is the opposite of Solomon's: soft, fluffy, warm, and oozing with you smells. Belphie raises himself up to gaze at you lovingly before playfully nuzzling his face into your neck and inhaling deeply. He releases his breath with a satisfied sigh and melts himself into you. 

“Much better.”

He peppers your cheek with soft, sleepy kisses until he has you a grinning, giggling mess. 

“Let’s take a nap until dinner is ready. Barbatos can finish the rest.”

Barbatos

This was not part of Barbatos’ plan, but he could reassess and regroup. After all, this was only temporary. He would assure that.

Step 1: Serve Lord Diavolo to the best of his ability while he brings about the integration and unity of the three realms.

Step 2: Assure the swift and successful coronation of Lord Diavolo. King Diavolo. 

Step 3: With King Diavolo’s rule solidified and the King’s word absolute, any dissension against angels or humans in the devildom would not be tolerated. The streets of the demon realm would be safer - safer for you to reside in the devildom permanently.

Step 4: With the realm made a better place for you, you live with him, in his care, for the rest of your days. He thought perhaps an emerald in the ring would be best, accented with black diamonds. He had not yet decided whether silver or gold would look best for your band, but he was more than happy to admire you for as long as it took to decide what best suited your coloration.

For now, however, his face remains unwaveringly pleasant as he silently makes note of the dusty floorboards and spattered kitchen counters. He knows Solomon. Solomon doesn’t clean. Not to Barbatos’ standards for your living accommodations, anyway. He watches silently for a few moments as you work alone in your kitchen, smaller than he thought you deserved to have access to. It would have bothered him that Solomon offered no help had Barbatos not also known  he would have rendered each and every item on the menu inedible. All your hard work ruined.

You see him because he allows you to see him. While his presence would ordinarily be welcomed, today your cheeks flush in shame.

“Listen, I know it’s not the cleanest.” You shyly return your attention to the onion you skillfully chop against the cutting board. “I haven’t really had the time to deep clean, not with lessons and work and preparing for the party and…” You trail off, exhaustion lacing your voice. Your eyes seem misty.

“Please, MC, allow me to help. Do the mushrooms still need to be sliced?” Without waiting for an answer, Barbatos swiftly saunters over, scoops the mushrooms off the counter beside you, and drops them gently on the counter in front of himself. One mushroom considers bouncing off the counter, but decides it wouldn’t dare under Barbatos’ watchful eye. You realize your face must betray your emotion.

“Barbatos, I’m fine, really. It’s just the onion.” You point to the onion with your chef knife, and you plead, “you are my guest. I won’t make you work.”

“I am your friend.” He responds, his face focused on the task in front of him as he reaches for the utility knife in your set. He begins quickly and expertly chopping the mushrooms into perfect, uniform slices. “And you are overwhelmed. Your home is dirty because Solomon does not help you with cleaning like he should, yes?”

You remain silent for a moment, considering if you should out Solomon for not doing his share. Barbatos does not allow you to refute it.

“It has been centuries,” Barbatos interjects your thoughts before you can argue. “but Solomon was once royalty. He is independent now, yes, but he never learned how to clean as he should. I fear he is slipping back into the comfort of being taken care of without taking care of you in return.”

You look up at him, and for a moment, you think you see the flash of a scowl before his expression is once again carefully moderated. You had seen it because he had allowed you to see it.

“And of course,” he continued, “you must be doing all of the cooking as well. If he had any part in it, you would certainly be dead by this point.” He finally glanced us at you, his lip curling ever so slightly into a playful smirk. 

The joke catches you off guard and you honk out a laugh.

“One time,” you say through your laughter “I caught him trying to clean the bathroom with bleach and ammonium. Unreal. The man is a master alchemist, and yet he accidentally makes mustard gas in the toilet!”

Barbatos laughs earnestly along and shakes his head. He finishes the last mushroom with a flourish and plops the pieces into a bowl, ready for their future use. He turns around and leans his tall frame against your small counter, assessing your space for a few moments. 

“If I were Solomon,” he mused, almost to himself, “I would ensure your accommodations were immaculate. I would prepare you healthy, delicious meals. Perhaps I would allow you to join me in the kitchen, if only for us to spend the time together. And I see your garden needs attention. I would gladly serve you tea made from those rose petals there once I had finished with the pruning.” He speaks wistfully.

You chuckle. “It does sound nice to be taken care of every once in a while. What with the brothers and Solomon, I can be spread pretty thin. Not a lot left to take care of myself, you know?”

“Perhaps one day, I’ll have the pleasure of doing it for you.” Your eyes widen and your cheeks flush. You look up at him, and he gives you a knowing glance. You hated when he did this. You always wonder: is he teasing, or does he know?

“I have not looked into your future if that is what you are wondering…though I admit, I have considered it once or twice.” You turn to face him fully, the surprise evident on your face. Barbatos chuckles and looks you right in the eyes. “It would ruin the sweet surprise. It will happen because I will make it happen. Your current arrangement is temporary, I assure you.”

Before you can comprehend what is happening, the soft fabric of his gloves are against your cheeks, the warmth of his hands permeating through. He leans in slowly and lovingly plants a petal-soft kiss on the tip of your nose. He holds himself there a moment. You hold your breath until he lets go.

“Now, what do we do with these mushrooms?”

Diavolo

“Yeah, I’ve been doing well!” Lie. “It’s kind of nice to be home, you know?” Lie. “It’s refreshing to be around my own species again.” That one was presented as a joke, but it was still, factually, a lie. Did you usually lie this much? Diavolo hadn’t noticed if you had. And he would have noticed.

It was ultimately his fault, and he understood that. The devildom was under his rule, and had his whims overtaken him, he could have ordered you to stay. It just wasn’t time. Not yet. There was still so much work to be done.

Step 1: Bring about the integration and unity of the three realms.

Step 2: His swift and successful coronation.

Step 3: With his rule solidified and the King’s word absolute, no one would dare go against him when he appoints you as Human Ambassador to the demon realm. With such an important position within the new government system, so much as a finger lifted against you would be treason in his book. He would make the realm safe for you.

Step 4: Argue to the council that it is a political marriage. 

That’s the dream that keeps Diavolo going, anyway. His golden orbs lift from the mushrooms he unceremoniously shoves to the side of his plate (subtly, so he didn’t hurt your feelings, of course) over to Barbatos, who watches you with a genuine smile as you speak. What were you saying? Something about a stray cat? Back down to the mushrooms.

He knew the likelihood of this plan succeeding was low - just a dream to keep him working at his goal of unification. What will probably happen is that he will have a spouse chosen for him. Someone he might not yet know, whoever the council sees as the most advantageous choice. Likely a female, as is tradition. Likely traditionally pretty, the boring kind of pretty. Barbatos would intervene only enough to ensure he doesn’t dislike his appointed queen. Maybe Diavolo would even grow to love them one day. But it isn’t what he wants. Who he wants. He would be expected to produce a line of heirs - full-blood demon heirs - and cambion mutts just wouldn’t do. Not his words, of course. That’s what the tabloids said the last time the two of you were seen in public together. They called you his concubinatus. The writer of the article is longer there. No one knows where they are now except Barbatos.

“There's not really anything preventing MC from marrying me, right? Since we’re both humans and all." Solomon’s words echo in Diavolo’s mind, his smug grin still burned into the back of Diavolo’s retinas. The brothers had been more than willing to marry you into the devildom, but Diavolo had not allowed it. If anyone was going to marry you in, it was going to be him. He knew the likelihood of your union going smoothly was slim, but it would not stop him from trying. He was not above monopolizing you. He was the demon lord, not the lord of selflessness. But you were out of his hands here and settled in Solomon’s. He couldn’t stand it.

“Do you think you’ll ever get married, MC?” He later asks you casually as he helps you prepare the bonfire. Barbatos had half-heartedly attempted to dissuade him, as his suit could get dirty, but Diavolo insisted. He hadn’t gotten any alone time with you today, and he likely wouldn’t see you again for a while. He didn’t care about some frivolous suit. You drop the stick you’re holding, but it tumbles into the fire pit, so you figure you can leave it be. 

“Where did that come from?” Your flushed face is camouflaged well by the fading sunset. You quickly grab another bundle to continue building the fire. Diavolo casually swirls the wine in his goblet and peers in, probably inspecting some aspect of the wine that you have no eye for. The sunset hides his own flush from the alcohol. He remained silent, expecting an answer.

“U-Uhm. I suppose that depends on if I find the right person.” You fumble with a few sticks in your grasp before dumping them beside the fire. You crouch down and begin strategically arranging the sticks around lumps of kindling. 

Truth.

“Could you…” Perhaps he shouldn’t ask you this. He’s admittedly afraid of the answer. “...see yourself marrying Solomon?”

“What?”

Silence.

“I…” You thought for a moment, laughed, and shook your head. “I don’t think so.”

LIE. 

Diavolo expertly shoots the rest of his wine like it wasn’t at least half a goblet.

“We aren’t together or anything, if that’s what you’re trying to figure out. You aren’t being very subtle, you know.” You tease.

This was true.

“I guess I could see marrying Solomon if things didn’t work out, but…there’s someone I have my eye on.” You shove some dry grass between the logs, trying to hide behind your task.

True. 

“I don’t see how it would work. I don’t think I would be anywhere near his radar, but…” Perhaps it’s the sunset, perhaps it’s the wine swimming around in your blood, but you felt a bit bold. You look up, directly into his eyes, slightly luminous in the encroaching darkness of the night. “...The heart wants what the heart wants.”

Oh shit, wait, what? Are you coming on to him? Right now?

“Do…I know this person?” Perhaps it’s the wine he just downed, but he too is feeling bold. The corner of his lip quivers ever so slightly in the attempt to hide a grin threatening to spread across his face, just in case he’s wrong. But he doesn’t think so. 

“You do.” You stand up and dust your hand off on your pants.

Truth.

He tries to bite his lip to keep his face in line, but his lip rolls beneath his fangs and the corners of his eyes crinkle. The way you’re looking at him, there’s no way he’s misinterpreting it. You take a shy step closer, your eyes flit from his eyes to his fangs and quickly back up.

“Is it…me?” Diavolo asks playfully, now inches from your face.

“No.” You shrug. You casually toss a few more sticks into the fire pit.

With a snap of his fingers, the fire is lit. It roars to life and lights up your faces, your goofy grins and reddened cheeks on full display. The warmth of the blaze is matched only by the warmth of Diavolo’s arms snaking around your waist. 

“Liar.”

His mouth envelops yours in an instant.

______________________________________________________________

@dokidokidemons, @ourfinalisation

[lumilovessmut]

My Messy Girl

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Nanami Kento x Female Reader

Trigger warnings: Smut (18+), slight choking, daddy kink, office sex, slight exhibitionism, p in v, established relationship, name calling: love, sweetheart, slut, dear, wifey, baby, mama, few mentions of breeding, slight pervert Nanami.

A/n: Hello my lovely readers! It's your lumi 🧡 So I thought I'd give you guys something special cause my hiatus is supposed to end around May but since you readers would want something I'm making this, I hope you guys will love it too 🧡 As always striving to make better quality fanfics for you guys. It would be really helpful if u guys can join my Instagram account also. I'll leave the link below, ty 🧡🧡🧡

Word count: 0.86k

Upload date: 10th March, 2024

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Everybody knows Nanami Kento was a clean freak. But if anyone were to see Nanami right now they would be astonished. His office is a mess, the papers on his desk is in a disarray, his couch is messy, and if it were normal working hours right now, everyone would have heard your pathetic, melodious moans. But the most surprising factor of all would be, the fact that Nanami Kento, the NANAMI KENTO is so messy right now that it is both a sin and a boon to look at him. He has you, who only came to deliver his dinner because it was very late and he may stay in the office for more hours. But the moment Nanami saw you, his world blurred and only your presence was worthy of his attention. The dinner you prepared in the cute bento box didn't matter only you did.

Everything was a blur, Nanami has been eating you out for more than what seems like eternity, his tongue laps at your entrance and he fucks his saliva into your hole, like a thrifty man in the desert he keeps sucking all your juices. The bridge of his nose serves to be a good spot for grinding your clit, Nanami was in heaven. "Baby, have I ever told you- fuck that you taste like the nectar from heavens? Yeah, keep going, just one more baby, just- fuck one more please darling, make a mess! make a mess, sweetheart I'm just a mess for you down there." "Nanami pleas- I-I-I can't n-no mor-nghhh please no mor-eek! Gonna ah! Gonna cum! Nanamiiiiiii!" "Don't worry princess cum, just like that mmmmmmgh, fuck you taste heavenly, keep cumming, mmmmm." Nanami, keeps tongue fucking you till you calm down, once he comes up from between your legs, you see the most breath taking view of your life, disheveled hair, your juices running down his chiselled face.

"Wanna taste yourself baby?", he comes and kisses you, "understand why I like your cum so much? Hmm? Answer me baby?", "Yes", you could hardly answer him, he looked too ethereal for you to comprehend anything else, without much thought in mind you brush the baby hair stuck to his forehead. "Wanna be come my Messy Girl?" Nanami suddenly asked you and to say you were shocked was an understatement cause you knew he hated messes yet here he his asking you if you can be his messy girl. You nod yes cause after all who would say to no to him?

The only thought your head is filled with is Nanami and the only thing your cunt is filled with is his cum and dick, he has been fucking you practically everywhere in his office, on his desk? Check. On his office sofa? Check. On the glass window looking down the city? Check. His thick girthy cock, throbbing with veins and his pretty flushed red tip banging at your cervix was bringing you closer to heaven than even death can bring you to. "Baby imagine someone were to notice us fucking like horny teenagers? Hmm? What would they think when the most polite person, the most beautiful- fuck, the most sexy person ever on earth is getting laid down in such a dirty, dirty, pathetic way? Scream for me my love, louder I want the whole city to know who is fucking you, who owns the most prettiest slut in town. You drive me wild babyyyy, I can't seem to stop thrusting into you even if I want to, my body craves for you my soul aches for you, without you I'm nothing- oh fuck! I'm gonna cum in yeah again, yeah? You like the sound of that? Does my wifey wanna become a mama? Yeah? Fuck Oh! Feels so good c-can't stop g-gah mmm fuck can't stop, focus on me baby, focus on me on my-aaah! On my thrusts cum with me, I said cum with me- Aaahh fuck fuck FUCK!! OHH feels tooo good baby."

You cum on his cock on command, your mouth opens in a silent scream, throat raw from screaming and moaning his name, your ears are ringing and your thighs are all sticky with cum and arousal, your eyes are rolled back into your skull and your back is arched beautifully, thick cum shoots inside of you one last time for the day, he slowly removes himself from you, your legs shaking like a lone leaf on a tree in winter. "Darling, don't let my cum go waste yeah?" He says while pulling up your panties which were ruined already due to your arousal. "Nanami? I-I'm tired." "I know baby I know, don't worry I'm here just you rest while we leave for home." He kisses your head and slowly lifts you and his work bag and goes to his car making sure you are well covered. The ride home is silent and peaceful, Nanami glances at you every now and then at your sleeping face. Once he stops at the red signal, he slowly takes the hand which he was holding and kisses it while saying, "Thank you my treasure, the only mess I love is you and only you.

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Thank you guys for making it to the end of another fic :)

Hope you guys enjoyed it!

Until next time 🧡

Luv ya guys

[valiantstarlights]

Hob is a chef who owns a food truck selling authentic Indian food, and Dream is someone who doesn't really eat well. (He had a bad breakup a year ago and it caused him to eat less. He's trying to eat better with his siblings' help.)

Dream agrees to go with Death to one of those food truck fairs for her birthday. There's not a lot of people yet so some of the staff offer them free samples to entice them into eating more from their food truck.

Death is having the time of her life, and she thanks Dream for going with her even if this isn't his thing at all.

Dream says that he enjoys the atmosphere (a.k.a. no huge crowds yet) and appreciates the aesthetic of the food they have already eaten: the understated elegance of the mango bingsoo, the dancing bonito flakes on top of the takoyaki, and the satisfying cheese pulls from the megruli khachapuri.

Death, encouraged by his interest, asks him to pick another food that he likes the aesthetic of so they could try it next. Like before, it's understood that they'll share a serving so Dream doesn't have to worry if he can't eat a lot.

Dream agrees. He picks an appetizing-looking plate of butter chicken from a foodtruck selling Indian food near the edge of the fair grounds, where not a lot of people have ventured yet.

They are greeted enthusiastically by a very handsome man and Death does all the talking because Dream is distracted by his forearms and smile and manbun. (He's salivating, so he must be hungry. Right?)

The handsome man turns out to be both the chef and the owner, and he chats with Death while he prepares the food. His name is Hob. He quit his job at a fancy hotel because he wants to feel more connected with his customers and share the food that he loves cooking for his family. (Dream is falling for him the more he talks. He doesn't realize that he has yet to speak and has only been staring.) (Hob is highly intimidated by him but also thinks he's cute.)

The food is served. Death takes her first bite and says something like 'holy shit dude wow this is great' and Hob is just about to thank her when Dream takes his first bite and lets out the most sinful moan Hob has ever heard this side of his laptop screen.

He is (understandably) frozen in place, staring at this beautiful man devour his food while sounding like a porn star. He may or may not be violating food safety standards by getting hard in his jeans in the truck's kitchen area.

Death is astonished because Dream has never shown this much enthusiasm while eating before. Even when they were kids. She is now looking at Hob speculatively. Should she google 'how to politely ask a stranger to (please) marry your brother'?

Dream...honestly doesn't even notice anything other than how delicious the food tastes. When the plate is clean, and Death has only gotten to take that single bite at the start, he reddens and apologizes, but Death waves it off, and Hob says something like, "I have some dessert too, if you want."

Dream unconsciously licks his lips and says, "Please," in a voice that could either mean 'Yes, please, I want some dessert,' or 'Fuck me raw right now.'

Death, immediately picking up on the sexual tension, says, "We'd like some kulfi, but I'll take mine to go."

And Dream is like, "Sister, what--?"

"I just remembered Desire and I have an appointment to get our nails done so I have to go--oh, thanks, Mr. Gadling--bye Dream, love you, be safe!" And then she's gone.

Dream is left with Hob who is still holding the other kulfi in his hand, looking slightly stunned at Death's very abrupt exit. The kulfi is starting to melt. Dream, unthinkingly, leans forward and sucks the tip.

They both freeze and their eyes meet, Dream's pink mouth still on the kulfi. Hob gulps at the visual. Dream, still maintaining eye contact, licks it from base to tip, then starts sucking in earnest, eyes steadily darkening when he sees Hob's breathing becoming unsteady.

Hob hears some footsteps coming their way, potential customers from the sound of it. Hob hands Dream his kulfi and apologizes to the customers, saying that something came up and he has to close. Like, right now. Sorry for the inconvenience but this is really important.

He closes up in record time while Dream taunts him by enjoying his dessert. He's already sitting on the passenger seat of the truck when Hob climbs into the driver's seat.

Desire's text the next day reads: 'DREAM YOU SLUT IM SO PROUD OF YOU'

Destruction for some reason knows Hob's number and has texted: 'Break my brother's heart and I'll break your spine.'

Dream slowly but surely begins to eat better. How can he not, with all the support he has, and Hob there to love him even on his bad days?

Hob gets everyone's approval, even Destruction's, eventually. He's the best cook and most considerate brother-in-law ever.

When Dream passes by his ex while walking down the street one day, he realizes that he's alright now, and is definitely better off without them. He's actually thankful, because if not for them, then he might not have even met Hob. He doesn't greet them because he still hasn't forgiven them, but he also doesn't feel like bursting into tears anymore.

At the end of the day, when he gets back home, Hob is there to welcome him with a sweet kiss, a warm meal, and a lifetime full of love.

[day-drawn-blog]

Part V: I feel your heart beat in my soul, our futures bound, our bodies known. - I want to live

Pairing: Astarion x Reader -- This is set in Act I

This is part 5. The rest are linked below.

Tags: angst, fluff, eventually smut because I do love that

Part I. Crowned light moon of mine - I found you too soon

Part II : Lace your heart with mine Let your sleeping soul take flight

Part III : maybe tonight I'll rest in peace

Part IV: There is more to do and I still want to live

Part VI: These ain't my sins, I broke my chains

Part VII: You are not mine and am I truly yours?

Part VIII: Your blood like wine, I wanted in.

Part IX: I'll welcome my sentence and give you my penance

Part X : I can't go yet...don't let me die

_____

The day after, you all wandered through the mountain road. You were feeling better. Halsin had ensured you were healing. So did Shadowheart. Laezel looked at you with pride in her eyes. You walked slower than the others. Supported by karlach sometimes. Sometimes Shadowheart. Sometimes carried by karlach. 

Astarion would turn to look at you every now and then. You would look away if he did. It made you blush. 

Did he really tell you those things?

You wanted to talk to him about last night. But there had been no opportunity yet. Everyone was wary. Everyone was tired. everyone was covered in dust and blood. Yesterday had taken a lot out of all of you. You all prayed for a safe journey and looked forward to setting camp. It felt like you had been walking for an eternity. 

So when you found a place at sunset next to a pool of water, everyone was collectively overjoyed. Not only could you all rest, you could all finally feel clean. Karlach and Wyll volunteered to clean everyone's clothes, you were all very grateful. Karlach said she he can dry them real fast. You were curious.

You were looking forward to getting into water.

At nightfall. Laezel dragged you to the pool. Halsin was already there. Everyone had stripped down to minimum inner wear. So you did too. Embarrassing at first but quickly you went in and all was okay. Laezel was very close to you. Lately she has been. It was both flattering and intimidating. But you didn't mind. You liked being liked. Maybe everyone was warming up to you. You enjoyed the feeling. 

Shadowheart appeared with Astarion. 

She was always beautiful. She looked like a goddess right now. Her long dark hair emphasized by her pale bare skin even more. Her body was immaculate. So was yours, you knew. You were all warriors after all. But something about being wanted, made her more attractive you thought. She was confident. She did not yearn. She had it.

Astarion got into the water as well. 

He went to the other side - a little away from you. To join Halsin. Gale joined them too. Shadowheart came next to you and La'ezhel and smiled. "I'm slightly afraid of water. Did you know". Her voice was so melodious. You thought. No wonder she is loved so much.

"Then shouldn't you not be here. I mean, what if you drowned?" Laezel joked or maybe not. You could never tell. "Oh come now. Waist deep water doesn't scare me". Everyone chuckled at the banter. 

You stole a glance at Astarion. 

He was looking at her, smiling, as if proud that she got in the water. Your mistake. What did you expect. Just like any of the other countless times. The only difference was that shadowheart was on your side of the party. She had her arms around you. Maybe they all, got worried yesterday. You appreciated the loving gesture. You felt included and wanted. 

You decided to be kind to her too. 

You would not take away, that which belonged to her. That would be cruel. She was your friend. And ally. And like the others on this journey to salvation, needed your help too. And so you would not turn your back to her. No matter how much it hurt. And it did. It hurt just thinking about it. Familiar pangs. Sharp. Cutting. 

You didn't realize how sad you looked right then. But Astarion did. And he frowned. 

Soon after, among the chatter, you decided it was time to leave. You needed rest. Your aching body was catching up. You expressed that, and got up to leave. Halsin called you out. "let me put the medicine on your wounds before you sleep. Let's get Karlach." You turned to look at him and noticed Astarion looking at you. What was that stare? It was not nonchalant. Searching... fixating.

Odd. 

You suddenly felt acutely aware of how little you were wearing. You felt really vulnerable, and you hurried away. To get Karlach. 

Back in your tent, after Halsin and Karlach had gone, you were finally able to take off your wet clothes. You decided it was a warm enough night to sleep with no clothes under the covers. So you did. 

No one in camp went in anyone's tents without knocking first so you were certain you could get away with such wanton abandon for one night. You could still feel the tingling from the cool waters. You were almost asleep. 

"I got your dry clothes karlach sent" 

Astarion came traipsing in carrying warm dry clothes that karlach had tasked him to take to you. You jolted up. You grabbed the covers and clutched them hard around you. How could you forget?! This guy comes and goes to your tent as he pleases. And that's your own doing! 

"Could - could you give me a moment!!"

He stopped, stared, shocked, blushed and turned around. "Oh yes! Terribly sorry! My apologies. That was very impolite of me" he stood with his back to you "where do you want these?" You gestured to next to him, he placed them down still looking away. You pulled the covers all around. 

"My apologies, again. I will see you later".

"Wait" 

"Hmm?"

"Last night... You said .... " 

He turned to look you in your eyes. Very solemn. You couldn't understand his piercing unwavering gaze. 

"I will.... I promise" 

"Are you really... That grateful to me ...?" 

"More than grateful." His voice was low. 

"You don't need to be. I... don't expect anything in return. I do it because I want to help, you. Everyone". 

"And I want is to repay your kindness." 

You looked down. And smiled a little. It was just that. You helped him. He returned the favor. It was sweet. You should be happy with this. Very happy. This is what you wanted after all. To be needed. To save someone. To help. 

There was silence. 

He approached. "How do you feel, today?" And he took your hand in both of his and kissed it. The way he usually does. A reminder. Of your unspoken contract. You thought. 

"Almost as good as new". 

He was waiting. You knew. You sat down. To get comfortable. He sat in front at the foot of your bed. He kissed your hand again as if he was impatient. Then he kissed the palm of your hand and looked at you. Straight in your eyes, with his lips on your palm. He will not wait anymore you thought. His stare was somewhat threatening. Or maybe you were timid. When he was concerned. 

You decided to tease him. 

You said nothing. He kissed a fingertip of yours and you bit your lip. Enough. You could feel yourself tense up. Down there. Throbbing and pulsating. Curse him. He is truly the devil. But you persevered. You wanted to test yourself. 

When it failed to get the permission he wanted, he decided to make a move. 

He leaned forward and moved closer to you. You were so startled you fell backwards. Down on your bed, propped up by your elbows. He put one arm next to your head and pinned you down while looking down at you. You stared at his beautiful face, blankly.

What is happening?

"You know", he smiled, seductively, "if you keep teasing me like this, I might want.... more ...". He said the last word very softly. But it rang through your body. You felt a pulsation. Another throb. You stared at him in your shock and surprise. Unsure what to do. This was not your plan. Who is this man.

Is this what he does to Shadowheart at night? 

"More?!" Your desire to play the game had heightened. 

He smiled again - a beautiful smile, charming and happy. 

"Why yes, darling. I'm talking about that lovely neck of yours, of course". 

What?! 

All this time, all he wanted...was to bite your neck?! Your neck.... His lips would be ....to your neck...you would feel...his face, next to yours.... It was very... frighteningly.....tempting....

What happened to your aversion of being bit in the neck? Why do you crave it now? What has this man done to you? Robbed you of yourself and your reason it seems. 

You stared at him in disbelief. 

"May I"? 

"I promise to be gentle. I promise....it will feel good." 

For you!!! You thought. What?!

But you were losing yourself in the honey from his words. He is too close. Breathing on you. You could smell him. Feel him. He was slowly getting closer and and closer. You may be getting used, but perhaps you may get something out of this after all! You bargained.

The opportunity to touch him. 

You could touch his hair, his face, maybe even his back.... You felt lust overtake every part of your body as you closed your eyes and looked away, exposing your lovely neck to him. Praying he wouldn't hurt you. 

He lowered himself. One leg between yours. His face fit closer to yours. And you felt his warm breath on your skin. The anticipation was painful. He touched your skin with his lips. You sucked in air and gasped. He kissed your neck lightly like he would your hand. Shivers ran down you. Was this really happening? Your pulse quickened. You were throbbing.

He kissed it a few more times. Soft, gentle, as if savoring it. You bit your lips to stop yourselves from moaning. Why is he doing this? You clutched the bed and the covers tight. You had stopped breathing.

Then he gently pierced his fangs in you. Very slowly. And settled in. You moaned. You knew it no longer matted - he would not notice anymore. Bliss. Because you could now let go of the covers. You grabbed him with both hands. Clutching the shirt on his back.

Fair exchange. You thought.

As he drained you, you let you several breathy quiet moans. And you arched your back. You so wished to be touched. But you knew, he was not making love to you. 

You lifted your leg at one point. And realized, as it grazed him. He was, very hard. He was a man after all, and this was very intimate. Or maybe, feeding made him so happy. You didn't care... your brain was fuzzy. It was pleasurable. You couldn't believe that it was him you were sharing such a pleasure with. You wished this would last a bit though not much because you did love your body. 

Eventually you tugged his hair sharply. And he finally stopped. He let out a sharp gasp of air. Then proceeded to lick the wound. Like he always did. It was not helping. Several times, your throbbing self, your leg brushed past he hard self. It only made you want him more. You tugged at his shirt with both your hands now. He kept kissing. 

His kisses got wetter, louder, till he was obviously just a man savoring his lover and no longer a vampire savoring his prey. He kissed and licked under your ears. Then kissed your ears. Too much. Too close. His face was too close. He kissed your cheek. And licked it once.

Stop. What are you doing. 

But he didn't. He held your face and licked the other side. Kissed your other cheek. It was as if he was so euphoric he had lost control. You moaned louder and louder. Stop. You begged him mentally.

But also, not to.

He continued to kiss your other neck, and ear, down to your collarbone now. And came back up to your chin. Your head was tilted all the way back. You dared not open your eyes lest you lose control too. You were in his complete embrace at this point.

But then, he finally did stop. 

He paused and looked at you. Searching for something in your eyes. You looked at him then his lips. Then his eyes again. He was so close. His nose was almost touching yours. You must be going crazy. You didn't want him to leave yet. And he was right there. You had to. You just did. 

You reached up and kissed him. 

Surprised at first, he kissed you back. Hard. Your head was back in the pillow. He took charge. Moved your hands away and dragged your cover away. Your nipples were probably very hard and visible you thought.

He paused. As if something had just brought him back to reality. He then looked at you. your uncovered half, your nipples. He looked at your naked half body for a second. Then sat back up. Covered his face in his hands for a few moments. Then he got up and ran out. 

Part VI: These ain't my sins, I broke my chains

[koolades-world]

Obey me! brothers and their secondary sin w/ sin swap

Ok hear me out. Each of the brothers has their primary sin, obviously. It’s what caught my attention to the game in the first place. After all, dating the avatars of the seven deadly sins is pretty eye catching

However, after playing the game for about a year now and really digging into the lore of the brothers, I can’t help but notice some patterns. At the beginning of the game, I actually kept thinking Levi was the avatar of greed from the way he behaved.

As I was writing it, it made less and less sense to me and sounded more stupid but hopefully y'all think it makes sense

Lucifer’s second sin is lust.

Half a joke, but have you seen this man?? He oozes sex appeal. Makes you wonder just how many demons or people have thrown themselves at him just for him to push them all away. Who wouldn't want to date him? He could have anybody, he just needed to say the word. He claims he has no desires, but he just hides them away very well, as shown by the hellfire newt syrup incident. All he needs is to be a little more free and a little less afraid of word getting out. Asmo probably claims it takes years off his face lol

Would still be very diligent and do his duties, but half the time that door is locked, he's probably getting it on

Not sure if it would be the same person or people, or different people, just depends on him

Overall, I think he would be able the same. Lucifer is Lucifer after all

Mammon’s second sin is envy.

Mammon loves his money, but greed and envy are usually a package deal. It's difficult for me to explain, but someone who is greedy is usually envious and vice versa. Greed and envy run close together since Mammon gets out more, envy would have a larger impact on his life. Not to say that Levi isn’t jealous, but it’s easier to not get envious when you’re not in you’re room all day, every day.

Not much change. Would definitely get matching jewelry with Mc, with his name on it if possible if they didn’t already

Not that he liked sharing before, but he won't budge for anyone now

Don’t even think about touching Mc, like don’t even look at them

Levi’s second sin is greed.

Like I said before, I actually though Levi was greed at first. I learnt pretty quickly who was who after a week or so of playing. Levi is envious and does not want to share Mc, which is greed. I’m starting to think Mammon and Levi argue so much because they’re so similar.

Overall, not much would change, like Mammon

Would be less inclined to share, which does extend to Mc to an extent

Definitely finds ways to keep Mc with him “accidentally”

Satan’s second sin is gluttony.

This was actually the easiest for me to match. He’s not hungry per say, but he’s hungry for knowledge. He reads lots of fiction books, be he also reads lists of nonfiction books. The amount of stuff he must know is insane. His brothers are smart too, but what sets them apart is that he is always actively seeking it out. He is always seen with a book in hand, so he’s always learning something. On top of that, there’s also school so he’s learning there too. Part of me thinks he wants to learn so much is to learn more about himself and to be better/more knowledgeable than Lucifer

Despite me saying it was the easiest to match Satan to gluttony it’s also the hardest for me to imagine him as a traditional gluttony demon

Probably uses this to his advantage in a way to read more, since he’s always reading while eating and now they can’t stop him because then he’ll go on a rampage

Probably still just as clean and tidy as before, so absolutely no food in his room. Midnight stacks stay in the kitchen

Probably also sees this as a bit of a break. Like he can just walk around without getting mad at how that demon’s face looks

Asmo’s second sin is sloth. I almost gave him both wrath and pride, but eventually settled for sloth. He’s never actually blown up in game and hasn’t tried to kill Mc (I think) but the things he’s says sometimes are incredibly threatening and are scarier coming from him than from Satan. Like that one time he was like “if you ever lie to me again I’m going to rip out your heart out to see if your heart is telling the truth” and he was giving this dead serious scary look I nearly shit myself. He’s also incredibly vane and will kill anyone who disagrees, which means he’s very prideful. It’s a different kind of pride than Lucifer, but it is pride nonetheless. I gave him sloth in the end because he's perfectly content with letting everything come to him. He likes partying, yes, and he has his skincare routine while Belphie does not, but Belphie is sloth to the most extreme. If he was allowed, he would probably have people do everything for him.

If Asmo was a sloth demon, he would have people do everything for him. Dress him, do his makeup, feed him

He would still dress cute, and love partying but all the parties would have to come to him

Online shopping would become his best friend

He would probably love devilgram more since it’s convenient and easy

Beel’s second sin is pride.

While he doesn't care much what other people say about him, he cares very much about his family. A single wrong word about any of his brothers, or god forbid, his sister, you are guaranteed to go flying through the nearest wall. His family is the thing most important to him. He's proud of them and everything they've done, and is very supportive. Lucifer is the same way and they both display it in a quiet way. I don't know if there's a word for being prideful on the behalf of others.

Expect him to be much more possessive

He's the same but this man will not take shit anymore

Someone looks at you wrong? sorry babe it's other side of hell for them. Someone making fun of you (why they would do that when you know the brothers is a death wish)? You’ll never see them again unless you find their head on the RAD flagpole

Belphie’s second sin is wrath.

This demon has major issues. Ever since the fall, he's been mad. Mad mostly at humanity, probably a little bit at himself. All he has wanted to do is get revenge on humanity for what they did to his sister. He might seem like a cute, sleepy demon, but there's so much boiling under the surface. He literally strangled Mc, for crying out loud. Just because he likes Mc doesn't mean he likes other humans or has forgiven humanity as a matter of fact. Only second to Satan since he was literally born of rage

I imagine Belphie almost as normal but a lot more irritable. If you are not Beel, do not wake him up from a nap and expect him to be happy

I feel as if pranks towards Lucifer are a way to channel his rage so either they would ramp up times one hundred or disappear altogether because he would be bullying Lucifer in other ways LOL

His grades would probably become even better than Satan’s and Lucifer’s since Satan and Lucifer actually try and Belphie can do the same without effort. Without sleeping 24/7 he would have more time to put in more effort

I want to write a longer fic about the brothers with these swapped sins and/or take a deeper dive into how each brother does or doesn't display each sin since I love character analysis :)

I think it would also be interesting just to break down what it is to be a demon of a certain sin, not just the brothers specifically

[strangersteddierthings]

Writing Prompt from this list requested by @tayloreever

#23. "Just pretend to be my date." and #60. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were trying to seduce me." Set in a world where homophobia doesn't exist because that fits my vision better.

-

This is stupid. This is stupid and he shouldn’t have agreed. He looks stupid.

Eddie’s caught sight of himself in the tall, perfectly clean windows of the Chicago penthouse Steve lives in (fuckin’ trust fund kid that Steve is, having a fucking penthouse for himself). Eddie’s got his hair pulled back into a low ponytail and he’d used hairspray to try to tame his wild curls into something half presentable, but the cheap hairspray hadn’t held up on his way here (three separate buses he’d had to take and it was fuckin’ windy) and he could see it starting to look fuzzy again. The black suit he’s wearing has been perfectly tailored for him but he feels like a pretender in it He doesn’t even remember the last time he’s worn a shirt with buttons, much less the last him he’s had them all buttoned and a tie on. Stupid.

He feels like some chump playing dress up.

Eddie is good at forgetting that Steve comes from money. It helps that usually they’re hanging out at Eddie’s trailer, Robin’s apartment, roaming the Chicago streets, or cafes and bars. Plus, Steve doesn’t act like a spoiled trust fund kid (most of the time).

Doesn’t matter. He shouldn’t have agreed to this when Steve had asked him, weeks ago now, in Robin’s apartment kitchen.

“A date!” Steve had shouted. He looked a little manic. Eddie heard as Robin had cackled from the living room. “Oh. Sorry. Shouldn’t have just yelled that at you. I’m a little worked up.”

“Why do you need me to get you a date?” Eddie was confused.

“No, not get me a date. Be my date. To the charity event!”

“What,” Eddie said. Because since when does Steve want to go on a date with him? Eddie really shouldn’t be questioning it because it’s the only things he’s wanted for months now.

“Can you just pretend to be my date,” Steve said a little bitchily as he’d put his hands on his hips, “for one night?”

Oh. Pretend date. For one night. That… yeah, that checks out. Makes more sense in Eddie’s head than Steve actually wanting him the same way he wants Steve.

“Eddie, yes or no?” Steve said.

“Alright, alright,” Eddie had thrown his hands up in defense, “One night! Jesus.”

He should have said no. Steve’s going take one look at him and laugh up a storm at how stupid he looks.

“Eddie!” Steve’s voice startles him and he jumps a little, turning quickly from where he’d been staring at his own reflection to see Steve enter his living room. Steve looks downright sinful, all dressed to the nines in a burgundy suit. Even the fucking loafer’s Steve is wearing are the same shade of burgundy at the suit. His hair is styled perfectly, not a hair out of place. Makes Eddie want to reach out and ruffle it just to get a reaction, while simultaneously wanting to smooth down is own hair, which he knows looks pathetic. “I-thanks. I wasn’t sure if you’d actually, y’know, follow through.”

“Why wouldn’t I? I said I would and I’m a man of my word,” Eddie aims for sounding casual, like he’s not currently stressed and spiraling.

“Yeah, of course man. I know that,” Steve says, “guess you wouldn’t sit through three separating tailoring sessions to not wear the suit.”

“Exactly. Plus, like, now I got something to wear to weddings and shit, if our friends ever get their shit together and someone proposes,” Eddie spreads his arms, “so, how do I look?”

Steve looks him up and down, eyes moving slowly as he seems to be taking every detail of Eddie’s look. The longer it takes him to speak, the more Eddie’s certain that he does in fact look stupid. “You look fine, Eds. What’d you do to your hair?”

Eddie’s stomach drops. He fucking knew it. He looks like some idiot pretending to play at high class. Eddie knows better. He’ll never be anything more than trailer park trash and no shiny new suit could make him look any different. “Nothing. Don’t we have to be going?”

-

Eddie should have said no because this is goddman torture. Steve is a prefect date. He holds doors open, introduces Eddie (with enthusiasm) to everyone that comes up to them, gets him drinks and snacks, seems to keep one hand on the small of his back the whole night, grounding Eddie.

He talks up Corroded Coffin as if they’re a legitimate up and coming band and not some garage band that plays in sleezy bars every few months. Parades Eddie around like he’s a catch and everyone should be jealous that their date isn’t Eddie. Every twenty to thirty minutes he’s using that hand on his lower back to guide him outside, to the must more deserted courtyard, like he knows Eddie is overwhelmed and needs a break.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to seduce me,” Eddie says the next time they walk away from some random couple they’d gotten roped into talking too, because Steve had slid the hand on his back to be fully around his waist and his nuzzled the side of his face when the lady had said they made a cute couple and if Eddie doesn’t make a joke of this he will explode.

 “Is it working?”

Eddie has to laugh at him to keep from giving himself away.

So, all in all, it's fucking awful. If Steve could have at least been a bad date, flirted with the single ladies they talk to in front of Eddie or something, this might be bearable. Eddie doesn’t know if he can survive a night of having Steve dote on him, all lovingly and shit, and it not actually be because they’re in love.

Eddie’s trying his best to keep it together, really, but then Steve’s parents, the hosts of this event, finally get the time to get away from the other Elites and come talk to him and Steve.

“So, you must be Eddie!” Mrs. Harrington coos, immediately stepping into Eddie’s space and giving him a kiss on the cheek, the exact same she’d done with Steve when they approached. “We’ve heard so much about you!”

“Y-you have?” Eddie can’t keep the surprise off his face or out of his voice.

“Of course,” Mrs. Harrington laughs. “You’re all we hear about these days. Have been the main topic of Steve’s calls for years now.”

“Mom!” Steve hisses, embarrassed no doubt by the assumptions his mother is making.

“She’s right, Steve-o,” Mr. Harrington says, patting Steve on the back like he’s sympathetic to his wife’s antics. “We haven’t heard this much about a person since you dated that girl in high school. What was her name? Natalie?”

“Nancy, honey,” Mrs. Harrington helpful supplies, “Nancy Wheeler. Oh, I wonder how she’s doing these days. Do you keep in touch, Stevie-Bee?”

“Stevie-Bee?” Eddie is delighted to repeat because he is going to call Steve that forever now.

“Mom!” Steve hisses again, “I am twenty-six years old. I think you can stop calling me that. Especially in public!”

“Oh, but you’ll always be my little Stevie-Bee, buzzing around so fast.”

It takes all of Eddie’s willpower to not snort a laugh. Holy shit. Steve’s parents are embarrassing and this is the best thing that could have possibly happened to him.

“So, Eddie, Steve says you’re a musician,” Mr. Harrington seem to take pity on Steve, switching attention to Eddie, “in a rock band. Says your amazing but haven’t been signed yet.”

“Oh, uh, no. No, not signed… yet,” Eddie adds the yet as an afterthought, because he’s certain they’ll never get signed for real, but he’s not going to admit that to the Harringtons.

“Shame, shame,” Mr. Harrington frowns, “I tried to get Steve to send me a demo of your music but he refused. Said you wanted to make it on your own, not be ‘bought by the industry’. But if you ever want a leg in, I do know a few producers looking for new talent. I promise I won’t talk you up. Just hand them the tape and let them decide if they like you.”

Eddie feels a bit lightheaded. What is happening? Because it’s true. Eddie had said they wanted to make it on their own, had kind of yelled it at Steve when Steve had offered to use his semi-famous status to get them gigs in better places. Eddie hadn’t wanted his charity, because that’s what he felt like it would have been, when Steve offered that years ago. But Steve talks to his dad about his band. Steve knows how important it is for him to not just pay his way to the top. This is too much. This tie is too tight, and this shirt is buttoned too high for him to catch his breath.

Steve’s hand is on his lower back, leading him away, calling over his shoulder to his parents, “we’ve got to go over there now, thanks, bye!”

Eddie hears Mrs. Harrington laugh like Steve’s told a hilarious joke but it fades quickly as Steve basically runs him back through the gala and up the stairs, to the private bathroom that was reserved for, apparently, only the Harringtons.

Honestly, Eddie’s calmed down by the time they reach the stairs but he lets Steve lead him all the way to the bathroom. They stand in front of the counter, blocking access to the sinks. Not that it would matter, because no one else is in here.

“Sorry, for them,” Steve immediately apologizes for his parents, “they mean well, but they’re… a lot.”

Eddie doesn’t respond right away because his brain is still processing. Steve talks about him to his parents. “You told your dad about my band?”

Steve won’t meet his eyes. “Umm, yeah. He doesn’t look like it, but my dad’s a Black Sabbath fan. And you said that was like, one of your inspiration bands when starting Corroded Coffin so…”

That pulls a laugh from Eddie, high pitched and awkward because Mr. Harrington is a white collar worker, who wears three piece suits and has his hair cut close to his head, and the thought of him head banging in his car on his drive to work enters Eddie’s mind against his volition and he must laugh at the image it conjures. “Holy. Shit. Stevie-bee.”

“Do not-“

“Your parents are so embarrassing. No wonder you needed me to be your date. Holy shit. Just imagine if you’d brought a real date. They’d have run away so fast!”

“Yeah, well, thanks for not running.”

“I’m trying to blend in. Running would be too much of a spectacle.”

“Blend in? Is that why you did that?” Steve gestures to his hair and Eddie feels his face heat up. “and why you pick just a regular black suit?”

“You said black tie event. Of course, I picked black. And what’s wrong with my hair?” Eddie turns his head to look in the mirror before looking back to Steve.

“Nothing’s wrong with it, Eds. It’s just not… you.”

Of course, it’s not, Eddie thinks. He’d been thinking that the whole way to Steve’s penthouse. The double takes people on the bus had given him had told him he’d looked ridiculous. He’d thought that when he saw his reflection in Steve’s windows. “I know! This isn’t me.” He gestures to all of himself.

Steve tilts his head slightly, looking Eddie up and down again. Instead of speaking he steps into Eddie’s forward and starts yanking at his tie. Eddie’s frozen because Steve’s so close and he looks so determined suddenly and Eddie wants to see where this is going. Steve throws the tie on the ground before going for the buttons on Eddie’s shirt. He undoes the top three, then moves to his suit jacket and undoes all of them.

Then, Steve steps closer, into Eddie space, reaching up behind his head to remove his hair tie. Steve pulls his hair a few times during the attempt, but he doesn’t stop Steve. Once his hair is free, Steve flings the hair tie over his shoulder and runs his hands through Eddie’s hair, shaking it out and pulling it forward.

“There. Better.”

Eddie turns to the mirror and is disappointed. Steve said better and Eddie had been expecting better. But it’s just him. His hair looks like it does every day, wild and frizzy and everywhere. “Better? This is how I always look.”

“I like how you always look, Eds,” Steve says, quiet and serious. In the mirror, he watches Steve’s reflection stare at the side of his head. “I think you’re beautiful.”

Eddie gives himself whiplash turning to look at Steve. “What.”

Steve shakes his head, a self-deprecating laugh coming from his lips. “Come on, Eds, like you didn’t know.”

“I don’t know,” Eddie argues because it’s true. He’s got know clue.

“Look, if this is gonna make it harder for you to pretend to be my date, we can go. I don’t want this to be awkward. I just wanted…”

“Steve. Stevie,” Eddie feels a little bit like he’s on fire. “I am going to need us to talk right now because I’ve spent this whole night thinking I looked stupid and you tell me I’m beautiful and that’s-“

“Stupid!?” Steve says, indignant, “never! You just looked so uncomfortable and-“

“No, I was still talking!” Eddie shouts, “I’ve spent this whole night wishing you were a terrible date because then I could go home and forget about this but instead you’re a perfect date and you think I’m beautiful and you talk to your parents about me and I really, really want to kiss you.”

Steve takes his face in his hands and then Eddie is being kissed. Holy shit. It’s the best kiss of Eddie’s life. When they separate to catch their breath, Steve blurts out, “I told my parents we were dating. Months ago. They wouldn’t stop asking and mom can always tell when I have a crush and I just panicked and told her we were together and she said we had to come to this event so she could meet you because this was the soonest they could get to Chicago.”

Eddie’s lightheaded all over again. There is a lot to unpack in Steve’s word vomit but that can be a later problem. Instead, Eddie just pulls him in for another kiss.

Or five.

Who’s keeping track anyway?

[arlerts-angel]

ONGG i just read ur softdom!armin x shy!afabreader and wanted to request – what if armin found out reader has started to steal his hoodies so she could get off somehow because she didn’t know how to ask him for pleasure? 🤭🤭 (‘m sorry the meds are making me crazy-)

note: are you kidding me!! 😩🤤 this was so much longer than i intended hnjksjshdj i love this anon!! i hope you enjoy too ❤︎ also!good morning, i've finished proofreading this at 10:30 am lolol

cw: armin x shy!afab reader are roommates, olfactophilia, voyeurism, masturbation (m! and f!), pet names (angel, pretty)

18+ ❀ minors kindly dni ❀

for a couple of times now, you've raided armin's hamper of previously worn clothes. it's too intimidating to ask him to help you get off, so you instead take his hoodies to aid in pleasuring yourself. you smell them, taking in his scent. his clothes smell so warm and inviting, like he'd swallow you whole in a hug or rearrange your guts. either one would suffice.

you take the hoodies back to your room and strip down to your bra and underwear. you lay back on your bed and begin to touch yourself as you breathe in his scent. you let out a few soft and quiet moans. though you are alone, you're still too bashful to make lewd sounds any louder. when you're aroused enough, you slide the second hoodie over your pillow and rise to your knees, placing the pillow between your thighs. you bring the other up your nose and begin to grind your clothed pussy against the pillow and let your imagination of armin run wild.

"armin–" you moan. freudian slip. you shut your mouth, but unbeknownst to you, the "damage" is already done. armin came home quite early from the library today. your door was ajar, giving him just enough of a view. he indulges in the scene before him, getting hard at the sight of you.

he slowly unbuttons his pants and slides his boxers down just enough to free his cock, hard and leaking precum. he spits in his hand and begins to stroke his cock as he watches you. he knows good and well he could just walk in and fuck you right then and there, but it was more exciting trying not to be caught. he has thought of this very moment many times, more than he'd probably like to admit.

you grind against the pillow covered by his hoodie more desperately now. your bed squeaks slightly and your slew of curses and moans of his name bring him close to his orgasm. his strokes grow faster and his breathing becomes unstable.

you moan his name one last sinful time and ride out the high of your orgasm. the sound of his name leaving your lips sends him over the edge. stringy ropes of cum collect in the palm of his hand. he dashes to the bathroom to clean up. you throw on a big t-shirt and walk back to return the hoodies to their designated hamper.

you are stunned by his presence like a deer in the headlights. he looks at the hoodies in your arms and back at you, his eyebrows raised. "what are you doing with those, y/n?" he asks innocently, as if he didn't just see a thing, much less cum to it. you're a stuttering mess trying to come up with an excuse. he grabs your chin gently and looks into your eyes, grinning devilishly.

"you're so sweet..." his voice trails and so does his hand. he gently grabs your hair in his fist and lifts your head up slightly, earning a soft moan from you. he looks in your eyes, still grinning. "i've got something that feels much better than my hoodies, angel."

shit, he saw. your heart is in your throat, but you manage to ask what he means. his grip on your hair tightens a little more, making you wince. "you know what i'm talking about, don't you? tell me what you were doing with those." he replies. why the hell is this turning me on? you think to yourself.

"i-i was, masturbating." you admit. you are well aware that he's loving this. he nods and lets go of your hair, his hands sliding down your body, stopping at your waist. "now... tell me y/n, do you want me?" he asks softly in your ear. you nod in response. "use your words, pretty. tell me exactly what you want." he coos.

"i want you to fuck me." you say without hesitation. he picks you up and carries you to his bedroom. "see? that wasn't too hard. just say that next time, angel."

[666writingcafe]

A Reward: Diavolo/Simeon

Part Four of Special Bonus Content

Content Warning: name-calling, biting

Diavolo and Simeon are off in a corner, looking rather serious as they're whispering to each other. I know that they have a professional relationship resulting from a mutual desire to unite the three realms, but I didn't think they talked much beyond that.

Apparently, I was wrong.

The two of them approach me, stopping at the foot of the bed. Simeon looks like he's seconds away from bolting, but Diavolo rests a hand on his shoulder, making him stay in place.

And then it dawns on me.

"You're scared, aren't you?" I ask Simeon, who nods his head.

"It hit me all at once," he whispers. "It's one thing to think about doing this, but actually being presented with the opportunity is something else entirely. I mean, I know we're in the dream realm, but that doesn't mean there won't be real-world consequences, and I..." He trails off, swallowing nervously.

"He fears that he's about to fly too close to the sun, so to speak," Diavolo continues. "And he's not sure whether to risk the fall or not." That makes sense. Simeon's feelings towards me are intense, but at the end of the day, he's still an angel. He's been conditioned for thousands of years to not succumb to sin. If he follows through on any of the fantasies I saw, his life as he knows it is over. He no longer would be able to call the Celestial Realm his home.

"It also doesn't help that I was all gun-ho about it earlier." Simeon looks down in embarrassment. "I don't want to look like a chicken by backing out."

"Bro," Mammon pipes up. "None of us are gonna judge you if you change your mind, least of all MC. We might have chosen our fate for different reasons, but that doesn't mean it was an easy decision to make. I remember Lucifer and I going back and forth about it a buncha times before we even thought about our first move. So not knowing which direction you're gonna go in is completely normal."

"Didn't think Mammon had it in him to be insightful," Levi mutters, earning a hard jab from his brother.

"You know my position on this, but if you feel like you need to take a back seat or leave this dream entirely, then that's fine as well," Diavolo tells Simeon, making me raise an eyebrow in disapproval.

"Really?" I ask the prince. "We're playing into tropes now?"

"He's right." Simeon's statement surprises me. "If it weren't for the apple, then you wouldn't be here, and you're the best thing that has happened to me in a really long time." The next thing I know, the angel's straddling my lap.

"I hope you're ready, MC," he murmurs. "Because I plan on making the Celestial Realm seem like a cheap imitation of heaven by the time I'm done with you." Diavolo clears his throat, reminding Simeon of his presence. The angel merely smirks as he asks me,

"Think you can handle both of us, MC?"

"Well, only one way to find out."

The dynamic that quickly develops between Simeon and Diavolo is insane. With only brief glances, they're able to communicate in a way that rivals the twin telepathy of Beel and Belphie. Between the two of them, they're able to work me up in a matter of seconds.

"This isn't fair," I whine. The two men chuckle.

"Did you really expect us to take it easy on you?" Simeon whispers, grinning wickedly. "You should know better than that, MC."

"Perhaps they're not as smart as we thought they were," Diavolo adds in a teasing tone.

"Or maybe being fucked by multiple men has made them temporarily stupid." Simeon pinches my chin between two of his fingers. "Is that it, MC? Have all the thoughts in your pretty little head been wiped clean and replaced with the sole desire of receiving as much dick as you possibly can?" Diavolo tightly grips my thighs.

"Answer him," he hisses. I manage to stammer out a "yes".

"Well, I'll give you this: at least you're honest," Simeon responds. "I suppose if you want to act like a needy whore, then we have no choice but to treat you like one." He glances at Diavolo, who nods in agreement. The next thing I know, my back's pressed against the prince's chest, my wrists restrained by his hands. Simeon nearly towers over me as he begins stroking himself.

"Are you ready?" he asks me.

"For what?"

"This." With that, he begins pounding into me relentlessly. Diavolo, meanwhile, bites down on my neck and begins sucking. The combined sensations are making me rather lightheaded, but not necessarily in a bad way.

I feel like I'm in a state of pure euphoria.

Taglist: @lost-in-time-wanderer, @fuzztacular, @dianedancer18, @sweetbrier2908, @flare-love, @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf, @thunderlightning351, @l3v1chan, @anxious-chick

[eustasskiddsprosthetic]

Now that my YouTuber AU Sabolaw fic is ending soon, I have a new wip fic. Long ago, I floated the idea of a blind prince!Sabo (x) and I'm happy to say I've gotten something concrete down!

Like I said, Sabo is blind as in he can't see things clearly. He's mostly self-reliant and refuses to accept help from people he doesn't trust and that includes help from his own attendant, Law, a man four years older than himself.

They were 'okay' with each other. Sabo thought Law was too serious and Law thought of Sabo as a bit naïve, even if good-hearted.

One day, Sabo realises that he would be eighteen soon and that meant he had to do be king. Oh, fuck that! He's running away! He refused to be king over a kingdom that refuses to acknowledge its sins, for refusing to do anything that would help people. He would not inherit this shithole of a country,

Ace and Luffy promised not to snitch. That's a solid enough plan, surely!

It was not. This will be a long story. I love slow burns!

Literally on the first night, Sabo was attacked by bears and would have died if Law did not immediately step in with a gun.

Being the little tsundere that he is, Sabo refuses to trust Law. Law's an adult. A shady, no-good adult like everyone else who made fun of him for being blind.

Maybe this is shit writing, but the only reason why Law won over his trust is because Law gave him a short letter, telling Sabo exactly what he intends on doing: they would go to Corázon's place to seek asylum, Law had a budget for food and necessities, Law had specific routes to take and Sabo was supposed to follow him.

Sabo thought it was such a stupid plan but then it suddenly hit him. Law learned how to write in braille with a slate and stylus. Law refused to elaborate on the details, thinking it was not necessary. It absolutely was but Sabo did not have the energy to complain. He was too hungry. The palace chefs spoiled him so much.

Law tried his best, though. Meagre meals of bread, some hunted deer and boiled water from rivers in the forest. Law was a shit cook. Everything he made was almost always burnt but, then again, it was edible and Sabo would rather not go hungry.

Law would buy food sometimes but they would never be much. Law explained that there weren't many food options and Sabo accepted the explanation. Law took them to ghost towns sometimes. That was when Law would sometimes leave for several days, claiming that he needed to find work—whatever that meant.

For accommodation, Law tried but they did not have many options. Not many places were safe and unaffiliated with the royal court, let alone places that were comfortable.

They really were shitholes and brothels but Law always cleaned the rooms and beds as best he could before letting Sabo sleep on them. Sabo still sneezed from the dust but Law never complained when Sabo did. He just smiled and said he'd try to find a better place to sleep next time. He said Sabo needed to man up and Sabo begrudgingly admitted it was true.

Sabo liked it best when they camped out in the forest. It was quiet and peaceful. Law was laughing at a horrible pun he made about bugs or whatever. Sabo learned that Law loved making jokes that were as bad as his cooking.

One night, while camping, Sabo was trying to sleep after taking a piss somewhere and he felt something touch his lips. It was quick and gentle, nothing too forceful like the kisses he shared with strangers before in the taverns whenever he snuck out. Sabo thought this was some stranger who had a weird kink but he was surprised to hear a familiar voice apologising to him.

"I'm so sorry, your highness. I went out of line."

"You kissed me, Law," Sabo said blandly. "Why?"

“I… it’s a spur of the moment.”

“Do not lie to me.”

Law hesitated. Sabo couldn’t understand why. If Law wanted to have sex with him, he should say so. Sabo wouldn’t mind. Sabo’s curious and Law’s an adult. It felt right, anyhow. That was the way it should be. Law should teach him this and not the boring stuff from books.

“I’m sorry, your highness,” Law said softly after some time. “You’re pretty. That’s why I kissed you.”

Sabo knew there was more to the story. He knew Law was staring at his body. He knew Law liked his body, found him not just pretty but attractive. He knew Law was turned on. Plenty of people told Sabo he was handsome before, and it was unsurprising Law thought that way too. In fact, it would be insulting if Law didn't.

“No, your highness,” Law said with strained finality. “I can’t. I refuse.”

Sabo shrugged. “Pity,” he said without meaning it.

Law struggled to breathe. “You say that as if you actually want to have sex with me.”

“I won’t say I want to,” Sabo said. “I don’t know why you’re so uptight around me. I’m not the king, you know, I have no real power yet.”

“That’s exactly why I refuse. You have no power.”

“Huh?” Sabo did not understand and Law refused to elaborate. Sabo got frustrated and said that Law should explain so Sabo could learn instead of avoiding the topic. Weakly, Law agreed but never explained why having sex with Sabo was such a horrible thing to do.

That day made things more awkward. Neither refused to talk about what happened, and maybe that was for the best. At least, Law now never left Sabo's side, which made things easier.

Eventually, they did make it to Corázon's house and that was when Law left Sabo abruptly without ceremony. Sabo wasn't worried. Law would come back like he always does, with some food and other little gifts he could find along the way. Law always came back.

One day passes. Law is not here. Fine, maybe Law was on vacation. Two weeks and still nothing. Sabo tried not to get worried. Maybe Law got a job. One month later and there was still no news. That was, until one day, a guy with flaming red hair came by to ask for Law.

"Hey, blondie. Where's Trafalgar? He owes me money."

"Excuse me?" Law never borrowed money.

"Huh?" He said. He shrugged. "Whatever, it's not serious. Just tell him to find me if you see him around. There's something else I want to tell him. Name's Eustass. See ya."

"S-sure..." This man looked fucking terrifying!

Corázon was in the kitchen making breakfast and so Sabo forwarded the message. Corázon smiled and said that Law had been borrowing money from him and Eustass. Eustass was a kind man so Sabo need not worry about him.

"What? Why?"

"Law knows he can't give you the luxury you're used to but he insists that he must try," Corázon said kindly.

The first lesson Law taught Sabo in the palace when Sabo was still sixteen was to never to be in anyone else's debt. That was why Sabo started realising something was very wrong.

"But Law always told me how much budget we have and we camp outside. He had always been transparent. He works sometimes, that's why he disappears for three days at a time sometimes."

"Have you actually touched the money Law claims to have?"

N-no, he did not. Corázon invited Sabo to sit down as he explained what's really going on.

Like Sabo, Law had been running away, specifically from a man named Donquixote Doflamingo. At first, Sabo did not know who this person was or what they did to Law but after an info-dump from Corázon, he realised more and more that he was not as smart as he thought he was.

Doflamingo killed Law's biological family when Law refused to work for him. Doflamingo tracked down Law's friends and somehow forced them to distance themselves from Law. Law, now, was dedicated to finding out where they were and setting things right. That was why Law left Sabo alone.

And now, Sabo learnt that these 'palace guards' Law kept complaining about were not palace guards at all. They were Doflamingo's men. That explained why they spoke to Law like that, like he was some sort of slut. Real palace guards spoke to Law with professionalism and formality.

And yet, Law would go so far as to marry Doflamingo! To accept being talked at, degraded and losing basic agency over his life if it meant keeping Sabo safe and, worse of all, free.

"If it means anything, Law said he wished he could've made things easier. You had to get used to a lot of things you're unfamiliar with and there wasn't much of a coping period to help you with your blindness. He regretted not arranging things better for your sake."

Sabo really was a child, after all! He learnt nothing! Nothing at all!

"I forgot to mention this, but Law left a letter for you." Sabo snatched the letter away and felt it. It was written in braille, and it only had a single sentence. Sabo started crying.

"Young man," Corázon said lightly. "How about you write a letter to Law? Or, I'll type one for you. How about that? There's still some time before Law leaves the country with Doflamingo."

Sabo shook his head. He stood up, demand that Smoker give him a ride on his white horse named Chaser towards the Northern Chapel. If Chaser was as fast as Smoker said, then there's still time for Sabo to prove himself to the only person, other than Ace and Luffy, to say, "Sabo, I love you."

[vicc000]

Will’s thoughts on Emory ❤️

- She was killing me. Had been killing me for years.

- She wouldn’t complain about last night and the lock-in. Tattling would dent her pride. Not sure how I knew that about her, but I did.

-My interest in Emory Scott had nothing to do with her brother, sadly. I wish it were that easy.

-He never tried to drag me into reality as hard as Michael and Kai did. I had no clue what I wanted or who I wanted to be. I just wanted my people, and I wanted the girl of my dreams.

-I wanted to go back to find her, but I knew she wouldn’t take a ride from me. She wouldn’t take anything from me. I was nothing, and she knew it, and in ten years, she’d be amazing, and I’d be nothing. She would never need me.

- Was she calling be a caveman? Little shit. I mean, I did do her literature assignment for her. Did she have any idea how hard it was to try to sound like an angry teenage girl with zero sense of humor.

-I just wanted her to smile. It would be one thing if I were the one making her miserable, but I had a feeling I wasn’t. Still, she wouldn’t turn. She was right there but miles away, and my chest ached.

-Rage boiled my blood, and I wanted to know what happened. Who hurt her? The sight of her crying was like a knife in my gut. But she wouldn’t talk to me. Not yet. Maybe never.

-I stared out at the road as we headed back into town, unable to help the smile peeking out. Sorry, D. That’s her seat now.

- Kissing. Only fucking kissing, and I was about to come already.

-She dominated me, and I didn’t want it any other way. In the classroom, in the library, in the movie theater, in my truck … Watching her cash in on my ass was better than actual sex.

-And here I was, pretty sure that no cost was too great to just be able to hold her. It kind of scared me what I’d pay.

-God, I wanna knock you up. I want to ruin you for all the times you made me think you didn’t want me. I want to give you a piece of me you’ll never be able to escape.

-You’ve been blowing my mind for forever. She was incredible, and I hated that no one saw how beautiful she was except for me. I’d been dying in that bus and fucking happy for it.

- I was clean of all vices, except one, and I needed to shake her. I needed to shake her, so I could go home.

- I’d rather eat my hands than see her do that to herself. If this was who she was, I’d rather this than see her become what I became. Someone who needed to hurt myself day after day in order to fucking smile. I didn’t know what the hell I wanted to do with her yet, but this, whatever this was going on between them, was not happening. She didn’t get to find herself with Aydin Khadir. She was coming with me.

-My heart sank a moment as I looked at Em, because it was all true. Nothing else mattered. If it killed us, she was the one. And that moment, I didn’t care about her sins, if anyone else had touched her besides me, or that we were both our own worst enemies. That was my girl, scarred, tattered soul, and all. She was beautiful.

-I wanted to wrap my body around hers so badly I refrained, because I knew that I’d squeeze the life out of her, wanting her so much.

[varianandhugodonotgetrawed]

I did a thing

Thanks to @shelobussy for giving me the idea for this little one shot! You didn't think I was serious, did you? But I was, oh, I was.

Desc: Hugo and Varian run into a problem while helping at VBS (vacation Bible school for those unfamiliar. It's literally summer camp but Christian). Warning for minor cursing, past homophobia.

___________________________________

"And... it's locked." Hugo sighed and slid down the door of the closet. "Who designed this thing? Why would a door auto-lock when you close it?"

"Why wouldn't it?" Varian had already sat down. "If you hadn't dropped the key we would be out of here."

"You're always blaming me for stuff. This isn't even the right closet! This is the damn communion supply closet, and I told you the cleaning supplies were down the hall, but no, Heaven forbid I be right."

"I got turned around! Half the hallways out of the sanctuary look the same anyway." At least they wouldn't starve, though Varian might rather starve than subsist on grape juice and crackers that looked and tasted like Styrofoam. And would it be heretical to eat and drink communion elements outside of the ceremony? Surely God would understand, like that story with David and the sacred bread.

"Uh, earth to Freckles," Hugo's annoying voice cut through Varian's thoughts. "How are we gonna get out of here? The VBS has, like, four chaperones for the middle schoolers including us, we need to get out."

"Can't you pick locks, Beanpole?" Varian had never seen Hugo lockpick, but he looked like the type to know how.

With his long undercut blond hair, piercings, alternative clothing style, and flamboyantly gay demeanor, Hugo wasn't really the sort of person Varian would expect to be a youth group leader, but West Ingvarr Methodist Church prided itself on diversity and inclusion. Varian couldn't help but think, though, that even if it wasn't a sin, Hugo didn't need to make being queer his whole personality. Varian certainly managed not to.

"I can't pick this kind of lock. I don't know the inside mechanisms of the automatic doors. And I'll thank you not to use that tone when asking. I don't why you think you're better than me-"

"I don't think I'm better than you-" Varian began.

Hugo snorted. "Could've fooled me. Anyways, I could maybe figure out how to disassemble the lock, but I don't think Pastor Robin would be very happy with me."

"So we're stuck here," Varian groaned.

"Until someone comes along and sees the key on the ground, yes. Don't look at me like that, Freckles, I'm not pleased about it either. You're stuck in a closet with someone you hate, I'm stuck with someone who hates me."

"I don't hate you. You're annoying as- as heck, and loud, and honestly I don't think you should curse around the kids-"

"They're middle and high schoolers, they've heard the word 'shit' before. Besides, I know what it is. You don't like the way I dress, the way I talk, you don't like when I talk about my homosexuality-" Hugo said the last word like he was an old man deeply offended by it.

Varian rolled his eyes. "That's not it. If it makes you feel better, I'm literally bisexual. I just don't think you need to talk about it as much as you do-"

"Freckles, what would your life be like if you had had an openly queer leader in the church when you were those kid's age? Because I'll tell you right now, mine would have been a hell of a lot better. You can keep your internalized homophobia to yourself, but I'm going to be who I am. And I'm going to be for those kids what I needed." Hugo finished and turned his head away, arms crossed.

Varian couldn't think of a thing to say. He tried not to think about it much, now that he was out of Old Corona, and two years into college, but he remembered growing up in a church very different from West Ingvarr. Forget it being unsafe to be queer, Varian had dyed a streak of his hair blue when he was fourteen and been looked at like he was the devil's child into he finally broke and dyed it black again. Eventually, fifteen-year-old Varian had decided he couldn't take it anymore, and ran away. It'd quickly gone wrong, and he'd fallen in with a very bad crowd before his father found him, and promised they would move away after Varian tearfully confessed the reason for his rebellion.

All that to say, Hugo was right. Varian cringed thinking it. But Varian had been unfair in his judgment of him, and it was the right thing to do to admit that.

"I'm... sorry." Varian finally said. Hugo didn't turn his head, but his eyes flicked over and his eyebrows rose slightly. "I think... I let my biases color how I judged you, and that was... unfair and not very 'Good Christian' of me. I... really don't hate you, Hugo."

Hugo turned his head, and Varian could see him holding back a smile. "Thanks for the self-awareness. I forgive you, I guess."

Varian scoffed. "Thanks, 'I guess'."

"Well," Hugo began, obnoxious grin on his face, before pausing. "I think I hear footsteps! HEY? IS ANYONE THERE?" He yelled, forcing Varian to cover his ears.

"Yes, ominous voice? Wait. Hugo, is that you?"

"Yep!" He replied. "Varian, we're in luck! Okay, Yong, there's a key on the ground. I need you to slide it under the door, alright?"

"I don't see a- oh! There you go!" A second later, the bronze key appeared by the door. Varian and Hugo stood up, and unlocked the door.

"Feels good to be free!" Hugo declared, stretching.

"We were only in there for twenty minutes," Varian commented, grinning.

"Yeah, but twenty minutes stuck with you? Basically twenty years."

"Shut up, Beanpole," Varian pretended to punch Hugo's arm. Maybe he wasn't so bad after all.

[nohasslecastle]

Watch beatrice allowing herself to be selfish for the first time in a long time.

Ever since she became a nun she convinced herself her desires didn't matter. She had been a mean to her parent's political agenda and then she became a mean to the OCS's ends.

She had fought against it first "how can we be here just to fulfill some God's providence?" but being sent to that boarding school, stripped from everything she loved, being told what she wanted was sinful, made her surrender and think that maybe [maybe], existence was meant that way "things change when you realise not everything is about you".

She stopped asking God for help, even for forgiveness, who was she to merit his mercy? She prayed in a depersonalized way, repeating the words she had been taught, over and over again.

Then it came Ava. The girl who was the living proof that she had been wrong this whole time. Sure, at first Ava's selfishness annoyed her. Who was she to think she was greater than what God had put in her path? "whatever you want is insignificant" she wanted to tell her, the same way she had been told.

The truth was, however, she envied Ava's rebellion. Even though she had agreed to help them, in her daily life Ava did nothing but to please herself (she had been able to witness that in The Alps). She ate not to feed herself but to taste the flavors, she took showers not to keep clean but because she loved feeling water falling on her back, she read books not to learn but because they entertained her, she asked Bea silly questions about herself because, quoting "I really want to know you better".

Ava knew the world didn't revolve around her, Bea had realized that one sleepless night they got to have a deep conversation (for once) while staring at the ceiling. But the thing is... Ava didn't care. She would make the world hers if she could, "what's the point of being here if you can't have a crump of joy?" she had casually told her. "What's the point of being here..." yes, Bea had also asked herself that.

So watching her lying there, full of blood and lifeless... It wasn't fair. "I know the world its hard and unforgiving" she really knew it, she had learnt it from a young age "and I know that warrior nuns die" but it was not ANY warrior nun, it was ava, she wanted to live why couldn't HE give her that? "But please don't leave me" she would be alone again without her "I don't WANT you to die" she really didn't, she desired with every fiber of her body to keep her to herself, to touch her, to feed her, to talk to her, to love her, to make her hers. She WANTED Ava, she had never wanted anything more.

Why couldn't she have her? Why was God taking Ava away from her? Who was God to decide? It was unfair. Maybe she was not the center of the universe, she didn't fucking care, it was still unfair.

If ava hadn't woken up she would've hated God.

"God knows what's best for us" does he really? "For those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose" then why have you forsaken me? "You ask and do not receive, because you ask wrongly, to spend it on your passions." Wrong, there could be nothing more holy than wanting Ava.

"Give her back. Give her back. Give her back" She repeated to herself as she was holding her in her arms. "I've never asked you anything for myself but give her back to me" just this time, for all the times she didn't ask, for all the desires she put aside, for all that she had been enduring since she was sent to that boarding school.

And then Ava wakes up. "I'd like to avoid thay myself" she says, sure she does. And she hugs her because she can, and she touches her face because she can, she finally holds her because she can, because it is what Ava wants, and because "who is she to deny that to Ava?". Having her in her arms alive, she finally looks up, "thank you for not taking her away from me... don't you dare do it again" she thinks. Except... he does.

[annwrites]

"Tell me you love me," he commands. Tears sting your eyes. "I love you." "My name." "I love you, Angus."

"I'm so sorry," you say, choking back tears. "Stop fucking crying!" He shouts, shaking you. You squeeze your eyes shut, willing it away. Hoping that when you open them again, he'll have disappeared.

He’s not leaving until he learns what you look like, too. Feel like, maybe. He’ll have to decide that part once you let him inside. And you will. — You wouldn’t go to college. Wouldn’t become an engineer. Wouldn’t make enough money to try and give yourself, as well as your dad, a better life. And Angus doesn’t stay away from you. Instead, he becomes all you eventually have to turn to.

He, sharp rusted shards liable to cut soft delicate skin—bringing about malignant infection, while you yourself are more like a piece of thin linen—one sharp tug against a frayed edge, and you’ll wholly unravel until there’s none of you left.

You consider turning back around—that you've made a terrible mistake. You want the doctor to get her shiny phone out again, or her fancy laptop, and to contact the authorities. Instead of doing the smart thing, though, you walk over to him, and he stands.

You look at him again, to his neck—focusing your eyes, watching as his carotid pulses beneath the tanned skin. It's just when you're considering a sharps container mounted against the wall that there's a soft knock at the door.

You should ask him to leave. You turn to him. You open your mouth to do so, to tell him to go home—to the one that isn’t this one. And then he crushes his lips to yours.

Angus pinches your nipple gently, rolling it between his rough fingertips, his cock slowly filling with blood.  His lip twitches at the pleasant feeling while he imagines doing revolting things to you. — You glance up and see that his eyes are wide open as he stares at the ceiling, his pupils dilated. Some sick part of you desperately wants to know what’s going on in his head. Maybe you’d like it.

“Everything I do is for you,” Angus says, cocking the lever back. “Including this.” He pulls the trigger.

He tells you no one will ever love you the way he does. You don't think they could, either. Not after all the sins you've committed. You're tainted now, you suppose. Anyone else would call you sick. Think you're filled with disease.

“Like our old man? He was the first, wasn’t he? Couldn’t mind his own fucking business. Like when he caught us—you were so young then. I was just trying to teach you. Wasn’t nothin’ wrong with it.” He goes back to licking you again, cleaning you up. You’d been fifteen. Angus over twice your age at that point. 

You feel like a frightened little girl who's been forced to live inside a woman's body that you never asked for—you've been forced to do a lot of things; given even more that you don't want to have. You fear, frequently, that that's all you'll ever be: the girl in the closet, hiding from a monster that always knows how to find her. [...] You'd read once about a term...imposter syndrome. They seem to know what they're doing with the grown-ups parts they've been given to carry around. You don't. It just feels like burdensome, extra baggage to you. Sometimes it's more than you can bear. And instead of helping shoulder some of it, Angus just adds onto the straining weight of it all.

Sometimes...you go somewhere else inside while he tends to his carnal needs. Some place that you've never been, but feels familiar because you visit it so often. He can't find you there. It's the only place he can't.

You bite your lower lip—squeezing your eyes shut—before releasing it, sighing loudly, your slick walls clenching around his thick cock, teasing and pleasing him, until he slams an open palm against the cabinet next to your head, yelling as he comes inside you in one long spurt, filling you up with himself; with toxic sludge that you think one day might give you cancer. But you already have a tumor between your legs. It's why you suffer every day. 

You don't think you've ever drawn in a breath of air that hasn't been tainted with him.

You feel like a doll tonight. You do a lot of the time, really. Pretty on the outside—at least Angus says so occasionally—empty on the in.

You’re not strong enough to keep him if he wanted to walk away. But he likes you being weak. Weaker, at least.

No way the old man has cleaned up his act. He hopes he hasn’t. If he has… The thought makes him feel worse. He deserves to live the same shit lifestyle that he does. The same one he introduced him to. He’s responsible. For all of it.

Sublimation, Colubrina / Algedonic, R.H. Sin / Plainwater, Anne Carson / Cut, Caitlyn Siehl / Ask Polly: Help, I'm the Loneliest Person in the World!, Heather Havrilesky / The Kite Runner, Khaled Hosseini / @paulaxdiez / Japanese Breakfast, Boyish / holyaches / x / ciøta / amisouennemis / Two Girls (Lovers) (1911), Egon Schiele ; Going to Scotland, The Mountain Goats / lostaffections / The Bell Jar, Sylvia Plath / holyaches / unknown

block quotes all taken from my donnybrook fanfic

[seat-safety-switch]

Lately, junk is cool. I don’t think this is my fault, because as my high school guidance counsellor once told me, nothing I do could ever be considered even vaguely interesting. Probably, YouTube has tired of the glossy and inauthentic salesmanship of The New Thing. Now, what the audience really wants to see the manky basements and obsessive collections of strangers.

I can get it. I myself prefer old trash. There’s nothing I love more than to get up to my wrists in some obscure garbage, and walk away from it with more knowledge of what makes it tick. Looking over the shoulders of others doing it, though, is so frustrating that I just storm out into the garage and start chucking wrenches until I either have a project finished or pass out from exhaustion.

Of course, I’ve considered doing it myself. We found an old Super 8 camera in the trunk of a Dauphine at the junkyard, but when we played the tape contained inside, it wasn’t exactly what we expected. Not only was it a horrifying screeching film, but Ralph got cursed by a Japanese schoolgirl to die within a week, and then he got so worked up about it that he ran his nitromethane-powered Prius into a bridge abutment while trying to escape “fate demons” and broke his shin bone. Sure, Ralph. You could have just said you didn’t want to help.

I’ve come up with a good compromise, though. The idea came to me when I was reading about some religious fundamentalists who forced school children to go through what they were calling a “Hell House.” That house would terrify those poor kids into keeping on the straight and narrow, avoiding the kind of sins that would pitch them into an eternal lake of fire. Great idea, and even better when I realized they were charging admission.

Parents: if you don’t want your kid to develop mechanical or electrical engineering skills, bring them by my place. There is a good chance that they will run away in terror, and become accountants or MBAs like you wanted. Of course, a couple of these kids are going to get even more hooked. Don’t worry, there’s lots of money on YouTube. Once they’ve finished helping me clean all the swarf out of this A727, that is.