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#I hate thinking about them losing the mc
chaotic-kitty · 1 year
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Spoilers for Nightbringer hard mode story.
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dreamingpine · 6 months
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brain worms
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irishmammonagenda · 12 days
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"Solomon?" You ask, eyes unblinking like a lizard as you stare at your favourite Rat Bastard. "You know how you're immortal?"
Solomon turns to you in mock shock, "Really? Why I never wouldve guessed."
You deadpan. "It was a serious question."
Solomon smirks his usual evil smirk, which to anyone else observing would look like a pleasant smile. "Yes, and what about me being immortal, MC?"
"Well, did you ever know Merlin?" You tilt your head as Solomon's smile falters for a split second before he fixes it.
"..."
"Solomon?"
"Yes, I knew Merlin."
"Before or after you became a Rat Bastard?" You ask him, eyes trained on his pretty smile. (evil grin)
"Well...I may or may not've been good friends with him..."
"Do you think I could meet him?" You ask, bouncing one of your legs after you sit down on Solomon's workbench.
Solomon moves towards you, something flashing in his eyes for a split second before his hands find their rightful place around your waist. "No."
"Why not?" You pout.
"Because I'm the only famous sorcerer in your life." He states, that something flashing in his eyes once more. Something animalistic. If Solomon was a demon, you were sure his demon form would sprout out.
"What about Maddi?" You raise an eyebrow.
Solomon scoffs. "You hate Maddi. You put on a mask with Michael's face on it, and then tried to drown her in a ditch."
You shrug. "I'm just mad the bitch didn't drown."
"She did damage her oesophagos though." Solomon smiles evilly, actually evilly this time.
"So why can't I meet Merlin. I want his autograph." You bring th conversation back to the topic at hand, your flustered gaze trained to where the Great Sorcerer holds you by the waist possessively.
Solomon scoffs once more, grey eyes narrowed in on you. "And why do you want his autograph?"
"Because he's the greatest sorcerer to ever live? Duh."
Solomon's grip tightens at that. His brows furrow.
"...No he's not." The silver-haired sorcerer replies after an awkward moment of silence.
"Yes he is."
"No he's not." Solomon glares at you, grip tightening once more, it's almost painful. "I can give you my autograph if you yearn for one that badly. End of."
"But-" You pout, eyes flickering with the flame of mischief, wanting to see how far you can take this.
Solomon's eyes snap up and down your body before meeting your gaze, forcefully he moves closer to you, you lean back until he's directly in your face and your back is up against the surface of his workbench.
You feel his hot breath on your ear as he whispers, "The next words out of your mouth better be 'I love you Solomon!' or I'm not hearing them."
Your breath hitches, you suppress a grin, "It's just that-"
"Not hearing it."
"Emrys is just so cool-"
Solomon flicks you on the head for that one. He moves away from your ear so he can look at your face. Grey eyes instinctual and crazed.
"My darling apprentice....you don't want to know where this is headed." The Witty Sorcerer grits out, emphasising the word 'my' like it's an ancient incantation.
You stiffen, you've really done it now. There was no way you could keep teasing your favourite Michelin Star Murderer and come out unscathed.
A dark purple surrounds the sorcerer, are those flames?!
You pout, looking into the crazed feral eyes man who's about to lose control. You'd have to stop being a gremlin and take responsibility.
"Sol...I love you." You say, and you mean it.
And like clockwork, rhe dark purple flamey aura disappears, Solomon's grip loosens on you, he moves a little farther back, allowing you to get up off the surface of the workbench. His usual Rat Bastard smile returns, and the crazy feral look in his eyes diminish, never fully going away.
You raise an eyebrow teasingly, "So that's a no on meeting Merlin?"
Solomon sighs exasperatedly, love ever-present in his expression, "Forget Thirteen, you'll be the death of me."
You laugh, "Back to your Alchemy lesson now?"
Solomon chuckles. "Back to my Alchemy lesson." He nods, taking his hands off of you and walking over to his cauldron.
You follow him like a lost puppy, unaware of the extent of the danger just a few moments ago. Not danger you were in, of course, like Solomon could ever hurt you. But the rest of the realms?....well that's a different story....
Don't look a gift horse in the mouth. Never wake a sleeping dragon....
Never underestimate the obsession love that Solomon the Wise has for his Darling Apprentice.
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lynxastrology · 7 months
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Intimidating placements ⛓️💥
Disclaimer: These observations are based on my personal interpretations <3
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Mars dominance: These people might face alot of challenges in life but their resilience and their willpower is what makes them powerful. They have a fiery energy to them and are very energetic people. These people never quit when they are faced with a challenge and are very independent. This placement gives off major WARRIOR vibes. The only problem about this placement is controlling anger which might take time but once they master how to channel their anger, These people are immensely powerful and strong both mentally and even physically. Can bless someone with great mental strength.
Aries ascendant/ aries dominance: These people are naturally very assertive. When they set a particular goal, they make sure that they finish it ASAP. These people have low level of patience which can cause some problems in their life but the drive towards their goals is nearly unstoppable. Their confidence and assertiveness is intimidating.
Capricorn mars/MC/rising: These people have absolutely zero tolerance for bullshit. They’re not bossy, they are the boss. Since they are heavily ruled by saturn, they have this air of authority around them and saturn also indicates karma so if anyone messes with them, karma will hit those people 10 times harder. People naturally see them as someone who is the BOSS and they might look kinda stoic and strict. They have patience but once they lose it, then can be very intimidating and merciless. BOSS BITCH energy FS
8°,20°: Personal planets (venus, MARS, rising) can bless someone with lots of sex appeal (esp if this degree is on the mars/venus). Their aura is just powerful even if they think they are not, people naturally see them as someone who is powerful, resilient and sexually attractive. 8° on the mars can make the mars sign a lil scorpionic 🦂.
Lilith square ascendant: This is a very intense placement in a birth chart. They evoke strong reactions from people and might have been a victim of bullying during the early years. These people usually get hate for no reason especially from women and its cuz of pure jealousy. One of the most sexiest and intimidating placements to have in a birth chart. Especially women with this placement intimidate alot of men but men also find them to be sexually attractive and seductive. People with this placement get alot of jealousy and hate which can shatter their confidence. Working on themselves and bringing back that confidence will make them very sexy, intimidating and powerful. They might have very intense facial features which look raw and sometimes even scary.
Pluto-sun aspects: These people radiate power and charisma (esp the easy aspects). Sun is all about identity, ego and pluto is about power and transformation. This aspect can make someone very resilient and they can handle pressure quite smartly. I have sun sextile pluto and i can handle pressure pretty well. These people are naturally persuasive and this placement is also kinda scorpionic 🦂❤️‍🔥.
Asteriod aura(1488) conjunct mars/MC in aries/scorpio/capricorn: Their aura might be very commanding and authoritative. These people might also viewed as a sex symbol and someone who is intimidating. They might also have a prominent sex appeal which can be viewed as seductive and dangerous (in a sensual way).
10°,8°,22° on the ascendant: Having these degrees on the ascendant means that your first impression to people would be strong and intense. 8° degress on the ascendant can give dark and sharp features to the native. Meanwhile, 10°, 22° (esp 10°) can bless someone with sharp and angular features. People who have this degree on the ascendant literally look like models and they look very seductive as well. These people can capture people’s attention and make heads turn fr 💋.
1st house ruler in the 10th house: These people usually are very charismatic and have a big presence to the people around them. They command respect and they naturally get that respect. This placement can be a fame indicator. Everyone knows their name and who they are because they attract popularity so effortlessly. Their career is the most important aspect in their life and they can also be authoritative. These people can also be excellent CEOs, entrepreneurs because they have an energy that intimidates people in a way that everyone respects them. Another BOSS BITCH placement ✨.
saturn-asc hard aspects: People with this aspect have the ✨best✨ bone structure. This placement is kinda similar to capricorn mars. These people have very defined facial features and their face naturally looks kinda stoic. I have this placement and everyone tells me that i have a stoic/ rbf. They have an aura about them that is authoritative and disciplined and these people also have good sex appeal as well. These people usually age like fine wine.
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minimallyminnie · 1 year
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Hi! Sorry I haven’t been writing lately! Hopes this makes up for it!
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Gn reader, Nightbringer timeframe so you are their attendant, uhhh a bit dark with some of them (Levi, Satan, Twins)
How you show the brothers you care about them even if they don’t remember you.
Lucifer
Though he stays in his room all the time, he does get up to do his daily things outside.
That being said, those days were rare when you could only hear the same album and small hics coming from his room
You remember the album from your time frame, he told you once
You were drinking tea with him and he told you how it was Lilith’s favorite album to play when she was happy
It hurt to see him not go to the table and eat.
So once Beel is out of sight in the kitchen, you go inside, make a plate of dinner and fill up a cup of hot tea for him
You knock twice on the door and set the food down next to the door, covered with foil and sticky note that says
“Lucifer, you should eat more. -[MC]”
You know he’s there when you come back to sweep the hallways and see an empty plate with a cup on top.
You only take the dishes in silent content and wash them in the kitchen.
Happy knowing that Lucifer at least ate.
Lucifer, in his room is working diligently on paperwork. He doesn’t need an…attendant to take care of him.
He’s capable damn it!
He can’t say he’s not capable. His pride doesn’t allow him. To be weak. To ask for help. To apologize.
His pride…has hurt his brothers. Has hurt them so many times. It’s best if he just stays inside and not hurt anyone.
He can’t let them suffer from his problems anymore, that’s how they ended up here.
He hears footsteps outside and is alert instantly, wondering if his brothers need something or if they’re asking for him to eat dinner with them or if they’re complaining about what so ever
But when he hears a gentle clink on the floor outside his room and the footsteps retreating, he knows that it’s you.
Lucifer waits for the footsteps to no longer be heard before he cracks open the door and sees a plate and a glass. He picks them up and locks the door again.
He sees the small sticky note on it and somehow in his cold and closed off heart, his heart warms at the note
He brushes it off before eating and drinking the entire thing, leaving it outside the door where it was previously in a pristine manner.
Now even if you are just an attendant, he won’t try to make your job harder than it is.
Somehow a part of him calls out to him that he just cares about you.
Mammon
His obsession with greed and Grimm has turned up to the max when he got turned into a demon
That being said, since he’s so busy trying to take care of his brothers who are falling apart day by day, he forgets to take a break
Anytime that you tell him, he’ll laugh it off and asks if you think he’s that weak
…you know he’s not weak.
The pain from losing his baby sister, how his brothers are crumbling, Lucifer not coming out of his room, this new home, his new body and wings, his virtue turning to a sin.
A sin that’s going to eventually cause everyone he loves to hate him. He despises his sin of Greed. It’s twisted, it’s malicious, it’s…awful.
Mammon can’t take it anymore but he still endures it for his family.
Just like in your time where he’s being berated left and right. You fall for him all over again.
One day, Mammon forgets to leave his door locked leaving you to come in and sneakily turn off his alarm clock before going back to Cocytus Hall
You do all his tasks for the morning once you get the to the HoL, telling the brothers that he’s just tired today (and he is, not that you’re lying)
When he wakes up and panics, you manage to calm him down explaining how he needed rest and that you’re taking a break. He calms down but then he sees you with a tray of cold tea and…two bowls of spicy ramen?
Hell Soy Sauce Flavored Cup Ramen??
He’s never heard of that before, sorta scary…but you said it was a treat from yourself
He picks up his chopsticks and takes a bite.
It does taste spicy and he chugs the tea while you’re laughing at his expression
But he looks at your smiling face and he thinks about how warm he feels inside, not knowing if it’s the ramen or you
He takes another bite and starts talking with you about how you knew about these noodles
“A close friend of mine shared some with me a few times.” He’s a bit jealous of this “close friend” but he still eats the ramen
Huh. He feels a lot better today than the past few months he’s been in the Devildom….
He thinks he finally has a favorite food now.
Leviathan
When he landed in the Devildom, he didn’t know why he was even there anymore
He was made for war and bloodshed against demons
Now he’s become what he sworn to kill
What…what’s out there for him anymore?
The days where he wakes up and gets out of bed feeling awful as can be are the hardest.
He has to show everyone how awful he feels and looks today.
He hates the stares he gets from his brother when they think he’s not looking for looking like he just rolled out of bed.
He hates his wings, his tail, his personality, how awkward he is, he wants his long and flowing robes back that made him confident like Lucifer was
He knows his younger brothers are suffering even more than him. He knows how much Satan feels like he doesn’t belong in their family. If he were just braver or if Satan was just mellower, he would take care of him like how Mammon did for him. But he’s a coward. He’s jealous of how well Mammon can handle things, how he can adjust so damn fast.
He hates himself
On one of the days you’re adjusting the pictures around the HoL after one of Satan and Belphegor’s fights, you hear a small voice from Levi’s room
Going closer, you hear me him say how he wanted to try this new game out that’s hot on the market but he can’t get the time to. When you peek in to see who’s he talking to, there’s a sheep plushie that you gave to the brothers to share and talk to.
New game….hmm you had extra Grimm right? Mammon didn’t steal any this week either!
You zap your phone out and quickly order the game. It didn’t make a huge dent in your account considering the amount of jobs you’ve taken during the free time you have
The next day, you knock on Levi’s door with an excuse to ask him for help on one of the Ruri Chan levels
When he opens the door, he sees a wrapped item in your hand which you promptly give him
“Consider it a gift for not leaving your tiny figurine accessories around the floor.” And then you walked away
Levi shuts his door and opens the gift nervously
He gapes at the game, how did you know he wanted this game?! Did you hear him??!
Levi will have to thank you tomorrow after he finishes the first part of the game first!
He wonders if he has to go to the doctor later though since his stomach is doing flips left and right…
Satan
It does take a while for Satan to properly put his comfort and trust in you
But it does somehow happen.
He’s lashing out at everyone and everything left and right
But he doesn’t know why it makes him angry.
He hates the looks on his brothers the people he lives with faces
Their faces…it scares him but his own pride refuses to acknowledge the fear
But when he sees your face…you never seem scared or upset at him.
Always…cheerful and somehow nostalgic even though you never met him before Mammon managed to catch you
He tries to push you away, tries to make his pain and internalizes that he’s a monster. A mistake that was only created by accident.
But.
You never stray away.
Shouldn’t an attendant rationalize their situation?!
Even if he lives in the same house, he could kill you more than any of the others!
But anytime he’s actually in his room, you’re always knocking.
You’re patient with him.
You’ve always been patient with him unless he actually does something messed up.
You don’t see him as a monster or Lucifer’s little copy. You see him as him.
His favorite thing of the day when you’re working is just going in his room during your breaks (which he memorized) and waiting for you
You knock and he opens the door. You always wait for him.
“Can I hang out with you for a bit?”
He always nods and lets you in
You end up talking about mundane things, you seem to know or find out things he might actually like!
You’re really smart and scary too but he won’t say that of course
He likes that you understand him. He’s not all that alone in this hellhole.
He just likes talking to you without being judged or interrupted. You don’t do those, you just listen to him.
And really, that’s the most amazing thing that someone can do for him.
…No you’re really the most amazing person that’s done this for him.
Asmodeus
Oh as if you aren’t his gift already!
Jokes aside, he is wary of you
You just dropped in and now you’re their attendant?!
Unbelievable! But of course he’s not going to say that in front of Lucifer and Diavolo!
Good heavens devildom, that would be his death wish!
He frequently looks up at the heavy clouds over the Devildom
He knows the sun never rises but, he wishes just one more time he’d be able to see the perfect sunrise and sunset before he got thrown here
Here where he looks like a freak.
Where he was praised and celebrated for his beautiful pearly white wings and his gorgeous robes. Where he had a damned amazing smile that lit up a room. Where is now gone. Permanently
He cries every-time he looks past a mirror or a reflection of himself
He has ugly ugly pointed horns that twist, hearts that look like they dripped down on his arm, and four short wings that don’t even look have as gorgeous as his old ones did.
He’s almost broken every mirror in the house he’s come by when he has thoughts like these. Mammon asked you while Asmo was crying one day to just make anything that looked remotely shiny, matte. Desperate to stop his younger brother’s tears.
(And you did. He figured out it was you and Mammon later and thanked both of by taking you two out for drinks. He starts to get used to one mirror at a time.)
He hates how his sin causes him to lust after everyone. He hates it. He can’t bear the pain in his heart when he meets someone who just wants to be friendly and he immediately thinks about how to bed them.
He just wants normal thoughts for once. Not all the lust addled thoughts that never quiet down.
He feels like an…item. Used for one night stands when he actually succeeds in bedding them and never again. Regret following him every time. Spiraling in his bed all alone.
Well, until you came.
He pounces on you with words filled with sweet and honey like words
But you know him.
You gently let him down each time but you let him do it to you everyday
Every day is another compliment, pick up line, or flirting act. He actually managed to stop going to parties after shooting all his lust willpower against you!
Did you plan this?! Oh sweetie~♡!He should’ve known! ♡
He’s…not upset though. He’s happy. No more being an item for demons or magic users anymore…he can…use his lines on you.
You…you don’t shame him or get embarrassed of them
(not even when they’re ultra lusty! Are you used to it already…? Did you hear them from someone somehow?!)
You don’t scorn him or look at him in disgust.
No. You don’t do any of those things even though he told you of the horrible things he’s done and how much he misses his appearance in the Celestial Realm.
Instead, you always surprise him and you smile and laugh at his daily routine with you. Even playing along with his antics sometimes.
“Haha! U + I = 69? Well I must be 59 since you’re a 10!”
And you smile.
A beautiful soul and creature called him a 10/10.
You called him beautiful.
When you walk away to subdue the brothers from arguing again, his eyes glaze over with tears.
His brothers had told him yes, and they mean a lot. But for someone who didn’t know him like his brothers and still saw beauty in a twisted angel like him…
His lust for you turned into something else.
Beelzebub
Everyday. Every single day. He dreams of the same thing that he doesn’t think it’s a nightmare anymore.
He sees Lilith die in Belphie’s arms, bleeding and beaten.
He sees Belphie look at him with despair and emptiness asking him why, why didn’t he save her? Why didn’t he save his baby sister? Why, why, why?
He wakes up with cold sweat at the same time every morning and tries to eat something from the pantry
But once he grabs something, a voice whispers to him. A voice that sounds like Lilith.
“Why didn’t you save me? Why, why, why? You should’ve died and left Belphie and I to live. I loved you and you left me to die by myself. Why Beelzebub? Why?”
Sometimes, when he looks at you, he sees Lilith there. Standing with a terrified and confused look. He knows you aren’t her but you…you somehow have that warmth that she had, intensified.
Beelzebub’s guilt and regret always stays with him. Any time he eats, he tastes despair on the tip of his tongue to the back of his throat
He saved Belphie…but his baby sister. The one who everyone, especially him was supposed to protect and fight for…
Died. Died alone. Died falling in pain.
(Lucifer almosts knocks on his door sometimes at night when he hears him but stops just an inch before. He cannot. He has to keep his lips shut.)
Everyday. Carrying the weight of his sister’s death around his neck. One day, he wonders if the weight will carry him instead.
He hates his sin. How he wants and wants and wants and takes and takes and takes and then when he cannot get it
He ruins.
He tore down Mammon’s wall, made all of Satan’s bookshelves fall on the floor, broke a huge piece of Asmodeus’s bathtub, and caused one of Levi’s figurines to snap in half. Just because he was the avatar of gluttony.
He hates it.
He hates it even more when he almost clawed you across your neck because he smelled candy in your pocket when he was desperate
You…you didn’t seem to be scared though.
(You already knew how he was.)
You were startled when he almost hit you but you just put down the cleaning towel down and took out the pieces of candy from your pocket and just gave it to him
He was incredibly confused on why you didn’t scream, or cry, or even get angry at him
“Just ask me next time, I always have some sort of candy or snack on me. Besides, I can cook for you too.”
He’s amazed at the fact that you just offered to cook for him
And when he wakes up from his nightmare again, you’re in the kitchen. Cooking some pancakes
He just sits down after he washes his face and his hands and watches you from the counter
When you’re done, you just give it to him on the plate with a lot of fruits and some whipped cream. It towered as high as his head even without the berries and cream.
His eyes just sparkle and his mouth gapes at the sight
He devours the delicious cakes in a minute and looks up at you to see if you’re upset about your hard work just disappearing like that
But you just smile at him and offer him some more.
Beelzebub doesn’t see Lilith anymore. Not even hearing her voice or her touch. He can feel her…no your warmth radiating from you.
He can feel some heat go to his face as he nods
Beel would be forever grateful for the break you’ve given him from his torment
Belphegor
Being the youngest means you really don’t have a say in anything you do
He followed Beel who followed Mammon who then followed Lucifer
He loved Lucifer but…
His sister…died
The one thing that he wished for was for his family to not perish
And he lost his sister.
With the anguish and grief upon him, he wonders how she’d be alive
If Lucifer hadn’t went against their father, she would’ve had a peaceful death…
If Beelzebub hadn’t saved him, she would still be alive…
No. It’s his fault.
He introduced her into the human realm. He killed her. He killed her.
It’s all his fault from the start.
He shouldn’t have went off with her to the realm of mortals
He should’ve just said no to her even with her puppy eyes
A piece of his heart is empty and dead from his sister’s death
She’s gone and it’s because of him.
He should’ve died that day.
He rather sleep and indulge in his sin as everytime he sleeps, he dreams of his whole family being together.
He curls up around his pillow, not allowing anyone, not even Beel to wake him up until he is needed.
Belphie promises to himself to protect his family. No matter what he does or kills.
…he sees how Beel looks at you though.
How he feels some sort of familiarity like…
Beel told him before how your presence felt like Lilith’s warmth.
And he was right. But it quickly turned into a bitter and regretful reminder for him.
He can’t stand to feel Lilith anymore. Not when she isn’t here.
But he feels a sort of warmth when you vacuum around him with a silent spell on the machine. He can see through his cracked opened eyes how cautious you are of him sleeping on the ground in his room
You…you even take his blanket and drape it over him gently.
And then go about your day.
This happens anytime he’s sleeping on the floor somewhere. Outside, inside, the planetarium…anywhere
And you always bring back the blanket he sleeps with no matter what.
He asks you why you do this when you could just leave him alone
“I don’t want you to get sick or cold when you sleep. It disturbs you and makes your dreams really difficult.”
Wow…you really do care that much.
He just falls asleep again afterwards when you drape it over him
But this time, the dreams of his family eventually add you in it, by his side laughing freely…
He wonders why Lilith never regretted falling in love with a creature that wasn’t an angel until he met you.
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Uh so for Asmodeus’s, I know he looks in the mirror but I kinda hc him to completely break down when he would see his reflection right after becoming a demon? I mean change yk?
As always, thank you for reading!
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Hiii can i request jamil, idia, riddle and leona have to fight with their s/o that been brainwashed (like a gas that brainswash ppl in a gas mask yk srry i cant explain things ;-;) by unknown enemy so they have to fight each other
Idia Shroud:
Horrible situation. Idia hated this trope. That’s not entirely true, watching the MC feel conflicted about fighting their love interest actually added a bit of interest into a story, but reality wasn’t the same. Idia didn’t feel anything ‘fun’ about this situation. Ortho was ready to take you down in an instant but Idia had stopped him, worried about him going overboard and potentially hurting you more than he needed to. He had already started to formulate a plan to overcome the brainwashing to at least subdue you, the only issue is mustering the courage to potentially hurt you himself during the process.
Idia has to tell you about how annoying that situation was after. He started ranting about games that just fell back on popular tropes for the sake of torturing their characters but eventually sighed, saying he had enough for an evening. He didn’t want to leave your side as much as he did want to disappear back into his room, wondering if there was a way to have you just stay in his room with him while you recovered.
Jamil Viper:
Jamil is tired of his bad luck, tired of the only things that brought him joy being taken away from him and then thrown back in his face like it was no big deal. His surprise is clear and for a moment he does think he’s pushed you away too much, that you truly were sick of dealing with someone who would never be able to go after what he wanted. It’s your choice of using magic against him rather than your words (which would cut deeper than any physical wound to him) that showed him there was something more going on, with you being a puppet on strings for some other being. He wondered if his unique magic might steal you away from them but it would be a shot in the dark, since you were aware of his ability (while the ‘you’ in this brainwashed state might not be).
Jamil is frazzled but relieved the situation is over. Looking out for both you AND Kalim was an exhausting feat, and he didn’t know why he added to his never-ending workload. He’s glad you’re back to your normal self, which still seemed to regard him in a positive light, allowing him to push down his worries for the future of your relationship a little bit longer.
Leona Kingscholar:
There’s no one who knew your weaknesses better than Leona but he couldn’t assume this would be a walk in the park. He didn’t intend to hurt you but he’d do what he had to for the sake of this situation ending sooner rather than later. Apologies could always be given after but there’s only so much he could take, seeing you like this, invisible strings attached to your limbs as you’re forced to turn against him. If he had been quicker he would’ve saved you from the invasive feeling of having your body controlled while your consciousness is present, and he forced himself to focus on the task at hand rather than the hell you might be living in as it would only make him angrier.  
Leona didn’t want to talk about it when you were back tomorrow. He hit you with an ‘it is what it is’ and moved on to your wounds, minor as they were there was still some scrapes you couldn’t get away from. You didn’t blame him and he didn’t blame himself, but he’s still not happy about having you turned against him. You were his, after all, and losing your loyalty even temporarily dealt a blow to his ego that he was desperate to keep hidden.
Riddle Rosehearts:
Riddle is alarmed at how quickly the situation escalated, flinching when his words don’t seem to be reaching you. He’s not used to being on the other side of you in a fight, even if you were to practice magic with him it was never with ill intent. He finds himself fighting against being distracted, trying to think of you as a simple misbehaving student who needed to be collared. His unique magic did make it a little easier to wrangle you in but he’s wracked with guilt cutting you off from your magic when it’s not really your own actions that caused you to be punished.
Riddle is wary about talking with you after, until he knows the brainwashing is gone and you’re back to normal. He shuffled around the actual topic he wanted to bring up which was incredibly unlike him, a fact you pointed out before telling him in the kindest words possible to spit it out. He admitted seeing you brainwashed was disconcerted, and that he’d rather never see you as an enemy again. He knew it wasn’t your choice but he’d prefer you stick close to him in the future, just so he could stop the problem before it even began.
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another-lost-mc · 5 months
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diff anon than the og perv mc and levi anon but id like to build off it: mc purposely setting themselves up for easy panty shots and of course levi cant resist snapping the pic. then one day mc bends over in front of levi in their skirt and they arent wearing underwear and levi short circuits
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a/n: I must be in a mood 'cause I ran off with that idea.
levi x gn!reader | nsfw | mdni | 1.2k words
cw: reader in various types of clothing (skirt, panties, sleep/loungewear). flashing, taking dirty pics/videos (with consent but they're both pretending otherwise). mentions of masturbation, cum marking, voyeuristic behaviour (both).
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Neither of you are very subtle about what's going on when Levi invites you to hang out in his room. He fidgets with his D.D.D. nervously and glances at you from the corner of his eye. He wants to be ready in case he gets lucky with another show you accidentally (to his knowledge) put on for him.
You have no reason to be wearing skirts that short, and you should know better than to bend over with or without anything else underneath. It's too tempting to resist though. You know he likes it, and he might pretend to look away while your eyes are on him, but he drops the ruse as soon as you look elsewhere.
Even if the item you drop ends up at his feet, he doesn't pick it up for you. He knows you're going to slide off the sofa and bend over directly in front of him to get it yourself, even if you could reach it from where you're sitting.
(You used to stay sitting at first so you had an excuse to lean into his body and press your chest against him, but that got boring after a while - it's too hard to feel his cock through those thick pants he wears.)
For some reason, you're so clumsy when you wear those skimpy little outfits for him. He can't see the grin spreading across your face while he fumbles with his D.D.D. behind you. Sometimes he loses his grip on it with those sweaty fingers of his, but you can be patient. You give him all the time in the world he needs to get his camera app open and ready; you take forever to pick up whatever it was you bent over to reach. It's almost like you have butterfingers too. Oops! You can't seem to get a good grip on it either.
What a shame.
Besides, you'd hate to cut this little show of yours too short. How else will he get a good photo if you're moving around too much? That would leave your thighs and the swell of your ass far too blurry for him to appreciate later, and you wouldn't want that. There should be absolutely no doubt in his mind whose panty shots he's jerking off to later that night.
When you bend over in front of him, you can't help but wiggle your hips a little bit, as if you're trying to entice him to chase after you like a toy. It's frustrating that he's so content to look (and photograph and film) but not touch. Eventually you stand upright and turn around, pretending to tug down that wretched skirt of yours that just won't stay in place. You don't mention the pillow that's now laid across his lap and hiding his erection from view. His blown-black pupils and sharp, panted breaths are proof that he enjoyed himself.
Levi's still hard by the time you leave his room and sometimes he leans against the door in an urgent rush to touch himself. He comes with his D.D.D. in one hand and his cock in the other while he imagines what your bare ass would look like covered in his pearly-white release. It would look nicer than the way it looks on his fingers, he thinks. Fucking you once or twice wouldn't be enough and he has so much he wants to give. He wants to drain his balls inside you and all over you. If he fucks you from behind, he'll pull out and paint your skin with his cum at least once. It would be nice and warm and sticky, oozing between your cheeks and onto the little puckered rim between them.
A few more days of this little game might be the push he needs to indulge in the sweet treat you purposefully dangle in front of him.
Or maybe you're not the skirt-wearing type at all. It's a good thing loungewear can be just as teasing in its own ways.
There's a reason you keep all your threadbare shirts and sleep shorts kicking around when most people would've trashed them by now. The sleeveless shirt you wear to bed is practically see-through and it's so obvious when your nipples harden as your body adjusts to the cool temperature of his bedroom.
Your sleep shorts hang deliciously low on your hips, or perhaps they're a bit too tight. You lay on your belly and watch TV on the floor while Levi stares at you from the sofa; the thin material tightens when you squirm around and get comfy. He can tell by the way the material rides up your thighs and wedges between your legs that you're not wearing anything underneath them. It would be easy to pin you down and squeeze the soft, doughy flesh you're more than happy to put on display for him. He palms his cock through his pants when his mind wanders from whatever movie he's pretending to watch, and you pretend you can't see his reflection on the TV while he does it.
Late-night visits to Levi's room are always fun too. It requires a little pre-planning and a tiny lie, but it works flawlessly every time. When you show up at his door in the middle of the night, claiming you left something in his room by accident, he steps aside without protest. Your housecoat is tied loosely around your waist and he knows that's all you're wearing. The fabric swishes playfully around your legs when you walk - it's such a fucking tease. You flash him with glimpses of your bare legs and thighs, and if he's lucky, a little bit more too.
Sometimes he catches a whiff of something delicious in the air as you walk past him; you smell musky and sensual. He can only imagine what you were doing before you came to see him. The image of you laying naked between your sheets, with nothing but your hand and modest collection of toys to keep you company, flickers across his mind. His voice cracks when he wishes you goodnight; his throat is unbearably dry all of a sudden.
It occurs to him later that you probably didn't even wash your hands before you came to see him, did you?
(Of course you didn't. How else would you leave little traces of yourself behind for him to sniff out and taste later?)
With your task complete, you leave his room and wonder how long you'll have to wait for him to follow you down those creaky steps. You're not as sensitive now; you can go another round or two if you know he's listening.
As it turns out, he's not that patient and you don't have to wait very long at all. Before Levi spits in his hand and strokes his cock with his ear pressed against your door, losing himself quickly to the building heat in his guts, he reminds himself to come back and smell your sheets tomorrow if you won't be home to catch him.
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read more: pervy!mc x pervy!levi (part one) | leviathan masterlist
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The Arcana HCs: M6 get kidnapped and tortured
~ an overdue sequel to MC gets kidnapped and tortured. CW for mentions of being restrained (in the scary way), having injuries, broken body parts, and trauma processing. enjoy! - brainrot ~
You'll never forgive yourself for how easy it was to lose your beloved.
It was just after breakfast - an unusually slow one, morning light spilling across the emptied dishes, a contented, carefree smile dancing from your lover's eyes to their lips and back again. They had stood slowly, bent to press a chaste kiss to your cheek, and stepped out to check briefly for wherever their familiar had disappeared to.
And then they didn't come back, and you didn't think to look for them until it was far, far too late.
The next time you saw them, it was in the back corner of a windowless cell, bound with their arms behind them to a wooden pillar, clothes tattered and bloodied and head slumped with the brokenness that can only come from despair and abandonment.
Julian
Apparently he's been surviving the last several weeks by dreaming of you, because he doesn't believe it's really you at first
He meets you with a dazed, faraway smile, barely wincing at the way it pulls at the bloodied bruise on his cheek. His good eye is bloodshot, and both retain an undercurrent of despair
His voice is hoarse and cracked from disuse when he invites you further in and apologizes for the poor space, telling you that you look as stunning as ever and wishing for the dream to last a while
Reality doesn't come crashing in on him until you're close enough to touch him. That's not possible for a figment of his imagination
He goes from tired condolences, asking you not to worry and to sit with him instead until you fade away, to staring up at you in shock and disbelief. It's you - it's you -
Does this mean it's finally over??
Doesn't say much beyond a stream of babbled "thank you"s and "I missed you"s and "are you sure this is real"s as you lead him out
Already knows the nature of his own injuries (he was, unfortunately, conscious and fully aware when they were made) and ends up talking you through how to treat and bandage them
Gets absolutely slammed with guilt in the following days as all the trauma and pain catches up with him and he watches you suffering in turn on his behalf. Thankfully, you're able to kiss it out of him
Tries to joke about liking pain anyways and can't do it, not for this
Asra
Their head snapped up as soon as they heard a new set of footsteps coming towards their cell, and they were already praying it wasn't you. You weren't ready for the look of horror when it was
He's already hoarsely begging as soon as you're in view. Get out of here. Run. It's too dangerous. He can't protect you here. Go -
Has a hard time believing you when you tell them that it's okay and that you're here to get them out. You can see them shaking their head in denial even as you kneel in front of them to free their hands
It's his hands that do you in. Apparently in an effort to keep him from trying any magic, his kidnappers have mangled them beyond recognition or functioning and you can't stand to look at them
As soon as they're free, they're scrambling to get both of you out. They were already putting together their own escape plan and have some scarily accurate guesses for effective escape routes
The look of terrified desperation doesn't leave his face until you're both out and you can prove that you won't be followed
They don't want to talk about it. They don't. want. to talk about it
He'll have to, eventually, as the waves of gratitude stop covering for his frustration at how slowly movement is returning to his hands and how often he has nightmares of his kidnappers taking you
They hate the discomfort of the process, but they're learning the sweetness of letting you take care of them for once
Won't sleep easy until he's magicked away all of the scarring
Nadia
You don't manage to say much when you make eye contact with her because the look in her eyes is leaving you breathless
You don't know what was done to her, you don't know what state she was in before you got here, but all you see in her eyes now is fire. If you're here, her courage and determination are boundless
Already pulling herself up against the wall and asking you to catch her up on the situation as you're removing her restraints
Are her captors aware you're here? How many have you fought? The big one, with the club - did you get him? Who else is with you? What's the plan? Give her your shoulder so she can walk with you
She runs on adrenaline and determination until you make it back home. She's reciting all the information she has and making strategic suggestions to ensure the group is wiped out completely
And then, when you make it home, she's collapsing
The following days show you a side of her you've only had glimpses of in the past. Her pride refuses to let anyone else near her, but
But you. You can stay. .... please stay
With her body broken and her mind haunted, all she wants is to be convinced of her support. She doesn't want to do this alone, all she wants is to lie down and know that it'll be okay for a bit
You begin to worry for a moment that she almost becomes too dependent, refusing to eat or sleep unless you're next to her
She comes out of it eventually, though she hates tight sleeves now
Muriel
You didn't know what to expect when you saw him, but it wasn't the deep shame that made it nearly impossible for him to meet your eyes. You don't know where this guilt came from
His first question is if you're in danger. As soon as you tell him it's all taken care of, he doesn't make another sound
Not a question about how you found him, not a grumble of discomfort or a grunt of pain, not even a sigh of relief as you undo the multitude of ropes tied so tight he could barely breathe before
He can barely stand to be touched by you as you brush his matted hair out of his eyes and take his hand to lead him out
He keeps stumbling. It's clear his captors were afraid of his strength, and had gone out of their way to damage his muscles and tendons and restrain him too tightly for the smallest motions
It's not until you're back in the hut and bandaging his wounds, with the door locked and Inanna at his side, that he's able to speak
He blames himself. He should have been aware of them when they came for him. He should have fought them off. He's been hunted for his strength his whole life, and suddenly, he didn't have it
It's your quiet testimony that he's allowed to be weak and still be precious that undoes him. With all the barriers out of the way, he doesn't have the energy to stop himself from being needy
Greedy, even, finally asking for hugs and snuggles and painkillers and second servings from dinner, and shocked when you say "yes"
Portia
You only catch a glimpse of the wavering hope on her face before she realizes it's you and her head falls back in sheer relief
You're here. You're here. Finally, you're here. She knew she could hold on another day, she knew there would be an end, she knew she could trust you not to give up on her, she knew you'd find her
And here you are. Her faith in you has paid off, and she's beyond happy to see you. She's pressing kisses to whatever part of you she can reach before you've even removed her restraints
When you do, she's all breathless, relieved, tearful giggles, and hugs as tight as she can manage with injured and bloodless arms
Her legs are broken, but that's okay, she'll just ride piggyback while she watches behind you for any pursuers. You've got this!
Never in your life have you been so grateful for a partner as relentlessly optimistic and resilient as she is. Even as the treatment of her painful wounds makes her wince and hiss, she's smiling
Of course, she can't act as though it never happened. She wishes she could, but the nightmares and the fatigue and the shooting pains and the crutches by her bedside suggest otherwise
Late night conversations venture to new confessions. How afraid she was. How out of control she felt. The lonely moments in her cell when her faith in you faltered and she wondered if this was it
It's hard to sit through her descriptions of what happened, of what was done to her, but you knowing it too brings you ever closer
Lucio
He'd like to say that he put on a brave face, but as soon as he saw you and knew he wasn't alone anymore he crumpled completely
He missed you. He missed you. He thought it would never end. He never wants to do this again, never, ever, ever, don't worry about the damn restraints, just kiss him and tell him it's okay, please
There's tears tracking through layers of grime and crusted blood and faint trails of his eyeliner - has he really not been able to clean himself in weeks? - and he's muffling his sobs into your shoulder
You keep wanting to tell him to hold still, the knots and locks are tricky to undo with the intense shaking through his body, but every pained cry wracking his frame is loaded with relief
When you finally get him freed, he's looping his arm around your neck and falling against you until you hold him
Hold him tight, hold him despite what a mess he is, hold him without worrying about his blood getting onto your clothes, hold him even if it hurts him, hold him so you can soothe his soul
And then get him out. He's clearly severely injured and in plenty of physical pain (which he will loudly make known to you once you're both safe) but he'll run limping next to you without complaint
It's a long time before he can bring himself to lift a blade or put the armored pieces on his gauntlet again. He still brags about his skills, but the way the light glints along the sharp metal makes him wince
Can't fall asleep by himself for a long, long time
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Would you be willing to write how the brothers (any you decide but at least leviathan mammon and belphie) as well as any side characters (Raphael and barbatos perhaps?) would react to us/the reader telling them "you always were my favourite." ? Thank you even if you don't do my request I love how you characterize them. You write Raphael really well also [: - ⛓️
telling them they're your favorite
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includes: older brothers, belphie, barbatos, raphael x/& gn!reader, luke & gn!reader (no pronouns mentioned)
wc: .7k | rated g | m.list
a/n: ught this was so fun to write and tysm!! i hope you enjoy! my inbox is open to chat, req, and leave feedback so come say hi &lt;3
reblogs plz =)
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➳ lucifer flicks a glance over at you. “is that so?” he asks, brow raising. “i thought you didn’t have favorites.” “well, i would never admit it to the rest of them, but you just get me so well. and cause me the least number of headaches,” you reply, and he lets out a half-chuckle. “i wonder why you’re admitting it to me now,” lucifer ponders aloud. “it probably has nothing to do with the fact that i know you’re hungry and know i keep snacks hidden in my desk.”
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➳ mammon loses his composure quickly, sputtering. you don’t think you’ve ever seen his cheeks get that red that fast. he recovers after a long moment, chest puffing out. “i always knew it,” he insists, pride heavy in his tone. “i mean, i am your first man an’ all. it’s only natural that you’d like me best, especially since i am the coolest and best-looking of all of us.” you laugh, and he goes on. “but ya should tell me. why exactly am i your favorite and what do you like about me best?”
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➳ levi shakes his head. “no, you’re just saying that to cheer me up. there’s no way a gross, lonely, yucky otaku like me is your favorite!” “you shouldn’t say those things about yourself,” you insist, laying on the puppy-dog eyes for n extra guilt factor. “it makes me sad. and i hate seeing my favorite–or should i say my bias?–sad.” levi gives you a little half-smile, convincing clearly working, and you decide to go in for the kill, prey upon his envy. “but i suppose if you don’t want to be my favorite i can pick someone else…” wow, did that turn his mind around!
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➳ belphie huffs out a laugh. “please, i know you wouldn’t actually ever admit it, even though it’s true. what is it you want?” even if you insist, you know he won’t believe you, or at least believe you’re actually admitting it like he said, so you just come clean. “well, i need a ride and mammon’s the only other one home but he always makes me give him gas money.” “i knew you wanted something,” belhie grumbles good-naturedly as he pulls himself out of bed. “fine, but only if i get payment of my own. don’t you think a kiss should be enough?” his eyes slant devilishly. “at least to start.”
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➳ barbatos smirks. “i didn’t know my food was that good.” “are you kidding me?” you reply, grabbing another mini-cupcake. “these are so freaking good. barbatos, if you promised to bake for me every day i’d marry you in a heartbeat.” this gets a rare true smile out of him, one complete with crinkles at the corners of his eyes. “don’t let anyone else hear you saying that,” he warns, “or else you’re going to have a bunch of wannabe-bakers messing up the kitchen at the house of lamentation, and is that something you really want to deal with?”
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➳ luke pumps his fist, vibrating with excitement. “i knew it! i knew it, i knew it, i knew it! of course you like me the most, especially compared to those mean demons!” wrapping his arms around your waist, he gives you a tight hug, looking up at you affectionately. “you’re my favorite too, mc! besides simeon of course, but no one will ever beat him.” you laugh, ruffling his hair, and even though it’s mean of you to think you’re sure if he were a puppy his tail would be wagging a million times a minute. “well, it is simeon so i suppose that’s fine.”
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➳ raphael blinks uncomprehendingly. “me? i’m your favorite? but, we haven’t even known one another for that long and you seem so close with the brothers!” before he can fully spiral, you smile, knocking against his shoulder. “and? i really like you. you’re kind, smart, genuine, and a good mediator. why wouldn’t you be my favorite?” you leave then, but for the rest of the day note the small, bashful smile he wears, and the way he can’t make eye-contact for more than a few seconds at a time without looking away, ears turning the slightest bit red.
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leviathans-watching's work - please do not copy, repost, or claim as your own
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matchavellichor · 8 months
Text
A Losing Game
A/N: was in the mood to write pure filth so here's some jealous sebastian smut lul. also i left the context intentionally vague so that i could maybe write a prequel sometime but i hope it's clear they absolutely hate each other loool
Sebastian Sallow x f!MC - NSFW - 4.4k words - ao3
Summary: Watching his long-time rival and dueling partner kiss someone else ignites feelings in Sebastian that has him questioning just how similar hate is to desire.
Tags: Yule Ball, Enemies to Lovers, Pining Sebastian, Jealousy, Possessive Behavior, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Mild Prey/Predator, No Safeword
For the first time in their many years of friendship, Sebastian is the one being dragged to a social event he has no interest in being a part of. Ominis, taking no small amount of pleasure in this, leads them into the Great Hall with an amused smirk on his face, only biting his tongue because he’s respectful of present company. Sebastian frowns.
His robes are scratchy, his date is doused in a nausea-inducing amount of flowery perfume, and there’s not nearly enough firewhiskey in the spiked punch this year.
He tells himself pointedly, as if it’s a matter of public record, that he isn’t looking for her.
Even as his eyes comb over the crowd, and there’s a little pang of disappointment in his gut when he still doesn’t spot her after the third sweep.
“Stop sulking,” Ominis murmurs from beside him. “You look miserable.”
Sebastian proceeds to sulk even more. “How would you know how I look?”
“I’m blind, not oblivious.”
Sebastian rolls his eyes, sitting down at the table the blonde had chosen and preparing himself for an entire night of brooding.
He’d have no qualms in remaining seated in their desolate little corner for the entirety of the evening, but his date—Bianca or Beatrice or, maybe something with a D—has other plans.
She titters something about dancing, and then she’s suddenly tugging on his arm and dragging him towards parquet floors. In no mood to protest, he lets himself get weaved through pairs of students who are doing anything but respecting Headmaster’s Black rule to maintain a Potions textbook length apart.
So much for leaving room for Merlin.
He manages a tight-lipped smile when they stop under a cloud charmed to sprinkle snowflakes, small flurries of white blending into a halo around them. It’s a truly beautiful sight, a winter wonderland of silver and gold englobing them, yet despite this, Sebastian’s demeanor is tight and forced, starkly unhappy.
He pretends he doesn’t understand the reasoning behind his sour mood. Pretends he isn’t thinking about someone else’s hands, someone else’s smell, someone else’s eyes, and the obvious absence of them.
Sebastian feels dreadfully pathetic clinging to the prospect of even simply seeing her as a motivator to suffer through the remainder of the night.
He wonders when he became such a pining, spineless idiot and deduces it must’ve been somewhere during the first dozen times she’d knocked him on his ass in a duel. Surely, a screw was knocked loose then. Or a couple.
Sebastian swallows his displeasure and takes hold of a hand that’s not the right size, that doesn’t have the calluses and rough edges in the places he’s already far too familiar with. It’s easy to fall into pace, but it’s hard to enjoy it. Hard to pretend he’s dancing with someone else.
It’s then, glancing over his date’s shoulder through the haze of floating candles and snowflakes, that he finally catches sight of what he has decidedly not been thinking about all evening.
From the way he stills and all his attention narrows in on one person, you’d think Salazar Slytherin himself just made an appearance butt-naked on a unicycle.
Breath-taking is an understatement. Asphyxiating might be a more valiant contender. Sebastian would be impressed with himself if he managed to get enough oxygen in his lungs to keep his brain functioning for an entire night of staring at her across dance floors.
His eyes comb over every inch of the blood red floor-length gown she has on, head-to-toe, gaze rising to dust over the blush high on her cheekbones, even further up to the gems crested in her hair.
He takes a deep, fortifying breath, though it doesn’t do him any good.
Then, his attention narrows in on the person accompanying her and it’s like his stomach immediately pitches, falls down six flights of stairs, and subsequently plummets into a dark abyss, landing at the bottom with a pathetic, defeated sort of sound.
Because her arm is tucked into the crook of someone else’s elbow, and she’s smiling at something someone else is whispering in her, and despite being only a few feet away at this point, she doesn’t even spare a glance at Sebastian.
Instead, she drapes an arm around her date’s neck, which he reciprocates with a hand at the small of her back, pulls their bodies closer and—
Sebastian squeezes his eyes shut and refuses to look, turning away from what feels like betrayal, though he knows is the farthest thing from it.
Maybe that’s what feels the worst. What makes his mouth taste so bitter he could gag from it. It’s the realization that he has no right to feel so upset about any of it. That he can’t expect anything from her.
That she isn’t his.
His shoulders stiffen and he suddenly stops any movements, letting his hands drop from where they were rested at a chiffon-covered waist, stepping away.
His date calls his name, emitting some cross between a petulant whine and indignant scoff, but he doesn’t really hear her. He’s busy high-tailing towards the drink table and doing the mental math for how many teal-coloured glasses of spiked punch he’ll have to drink to self-induce a coma.
Ominis, with his hell-anointed sixth sense, meets him three-quarters of the way there, falling into step as they weave through pairs of students.
“This is your own doing, you know.”
He’s right, yet Sebastian would still throttle him if there weren’t so many witnesses around. He ignores him.
“Sebastian,” Ominis sighs. “You’re being childish.”
“You aren’t helping.”
“I’m not trying to,” Ominis says. “I thought I’d already made myself clear that I was on her side concerning this.”
Sebastian scowls. “Some friend you are.”
“All you had to do was ask her.”
“Asking her is admitting defeat,” Sebastian mutters over the rim of the glass he just poured himself. “She wouldn’t have ever let me live it down.”
“I don’t understand this game you two play,” Ominis frowns. “Would it have been so hard for you to humble yourself for just a moment?”
Sebastian takes a long drink. “Yes. In front of her, it would’ve been.”
“Then enjoy watching her dance with someone else for the remainder of the evening.”
Sebastian has just about decided to actually throttle Ominis, witnesses be damned, but he’s already making his way back into the crowd, out of reach.
Sebastian groans, yet doesn’t go after him. Refuses to.
From his position on the outskirts of the dance floor, he’s in blissful ignorance of whatever it is she’s doing at the moment. Despite the curiosity eating away at him from the inside, it’s some form of solace that at least he can’t see the smile he’d caught on her face. Can’t see the glow in her eyes, or her hands on her date’s robes, or all the affection he craves so ardently misdirected towards someone else.
Somehow, it’s worse.
And then, as if Fortune, on his damned quarry smiling, has decided Sebastian hasn’t endured enough for one pitiful night already, the steady crescendo of a waltz begins to build.
The crowd pulses and sways in tempo with the symphony, leaving breaches and eyelets, brief openings that he can’t tear his eyes away from, because even if it hurts, he needs to see her again.
That’s how he catches sight of her for the second time that evening. Like the seas parting to reveal a miracle, she finds herself right in his line of vision.
Sebastian conveys the tightening he feels in his chest into an ice-cold glower, features hardened. He prays she’ll just look. Even if it’s something fleeting, a split second of a glance.
Once again, her eyes never make their way anywhere near him.
It’s almost intentional, in a way that drives him insane. As if she knows where he is, and she’s skirting over him pointedly, antagonistically. Sebastian wouldn’t be surprised if it were intentional, a gleaming testimony to all the other ways she manages to get under his skin.
The dancing body of students continues to shift, like a pendulum, back and forth, revealing and concealing. He clings to the momentary sight of her, and still, like a fool, hopes that at some instance she’ll look back. Acknowledge him.
Give him some form of recognition so he doesn’t have to admit defeat so quickly. So that he knows that they’re still playing their game, that he’s not just losing alone.
The composition nears its apex, surrounding gowns and robes reaching a swirling mass of glitter and silks, and something heavy sinks inside of him, an impending sense of foreboding.
He knows what’s coming, somehow.
The orchestra finally reaching its climax.
Her fingers threading through the hairs at the nape of her date’s neck.
Her leaning forward, nose slotting against his, lips hovering over another’s and yet—
He doesn’t look away. Even if it feels like being split open, sternum cracked across the middle, until he’s left with a slick-red, yawning chest cavity.
He can’t look away, because her eyes are open and for the first time in the entire evening, they’re meeting his.
Like most instances involving her, he isn’t sure if he’s winning or losing anymore.
She doesn’t look away, and he can’t bring himself to either. It’s like he’s standing there, split from top to bottom, voluntarily exposed for her to prod at, to ruin. And yet, there’s a bittersweetness to it all.
Her lips aren’t on his, yet she’s looking at him as if she wishes they were.
There’s something taunting in her eyes. Something he might’ve mistaken as a threat if they were in their usual setting, mid-duel in the Undercroft.
A challenge.
It takes him a moment to realize that context shouldn’t matter. This is an invitation for battle, a glaring provocation. He stares.
The sight of her mouth on someone else’s makes bile rise in his throat, makes him so filled with rage and revulsion that he thinks he might suffocate on it all. Yet the sight of her eyes, the sheer amount of longing she’s able to convey in such a short glance, is enough to invigorate him, to channel all his rage and wanting into something else.
His legs move of their own accord.
Her reflexes are as sharp as they are in battle.
The second she sees him coming towards her, she reacts. Murmurs a hurried apology towards her date, who looks so confused Sebastian would almost feel bad for the bloke if he didn’t want to strangle him so violently.
She’s immediately cutting through the crowd towards the opposite direction, her eyes trained on one of the exits. He picks up his speed, but she’s quicker than him, smaller, able to duck through bunches of students with ease, even with her dress hindering her movements.
Adrenaline trickles up his spine. She throws him another glance over her shoulder and smirks, sly and knowing, a look that writhes under his skin in the way her glances always do.
Even if he’s the one chasing her, Sebastian feels awfully like the rodent in their little game of cat and mouse.
They both step into the quiet of the dimly-lit hallway, the sounds of the party bleeding away as the door shuts behind them, casting them in silence.
There’s a split moment where she spins around to look at him, chest heaving. The live-wire tension between them is pulled so taut it’s a miracle the air doesn’t crackle with static.
Neither of them move for a long moment, until her lips curl into a smile.
She breaks into a run and Sebastian doesn’t miss a beat.
He chases after her, his heart pounding with something primal, something instinctive. Like his self-control might slip away from him when he catches her, like he might just sink his teeth into soft flesh, dig his nails into supple skin. She runs as if she’s just as aware of this fact as he is.
He almost wants to punish her for it. Bite and scratch and mark as if in vengeance for her thinking she could ever get away from him. For her forgetting that she’s anything but his, as if she should simply know it by now.
She’s fast, but she’s nearly tripping over the dress she has fisted in her hands, and her heels don’t help. All it takes is for her to stumble around a corner and he’s on her, grabbing her gown, pulling her towards him.
He spins her around, and she grunts when he slams her against the wall. Teeth bared, strands of the elegant updo she’d had her hair in falling down over her shoulders, glittery makeup smeared down her cheeks — she looks like something savage.
For some reason, it makes something deep-set inside Sebastian ache.
“Let go,” she grits, struggling against the hold he has on her wrists, under the weight of his body that has her molded to the wall.
His grip only tightens, frustration simmering low in his gut. Sebastian has never known desire like this, shadowed by fury. Want and anger, love and hate, repulsion and obsession.
“I know what you’re doing,” he hisses.
She stills her thrashing in favor of looking up at him through her lashes with an expression so innocent, it’s crucifying.
“Attending a dance?”
His jaw sets. “Don’t get smart with me.”
“Why, are you having a hard time keeping up?”
He stares at her for a long moment, jaw working in tandem with his thoughts. He runs his tongue over his bottom lip and she tilts her head, amused at how worked up he’s gotten.
“I know what you’re doing,” she says.
“And what’s that?”
“Thinking about how badly you want to kill me, probably,” she says. Her eyes fall to his lips and his breath stops in his throat. “Or kiss me. Haven’t quite worked out which one yet.”
“So certain that they’re mutually exclusive,” he murmurs, his gaze falling to mimic hers despite himself. “I think you forget that I’m very multi-faceted.”
“That I’m aware of,” she tilts her chin up, almost as if inviting him to press his mouth to hers, a siren’s call. “You manage to be mind-numbingly stupid and brilliantly obnoxious, all at the same time.”
He scoffs. “And you manage to be the most infuriating person on the planet.”
She seems starkly proud of the title. “What can I say, I invoke passion.”
“You invoke homicidal thoughts.”
“Not the only kinds of thoughts I invoke in you, is it, Sallow?”
He reddens. He’s spent too many showers hunched over his own fist with silencing charms plastered around the tiles for his response to be anything more than a blurted, evocative reaction.
“Anything you think I feel for you is precisely the opposite. I fucking despise you.”
He only notes a split second after that it’s not an outright denial.
Evidently, so does she. Because then, as if she were made to crawl under his skin, writhe underneath it until his nerves were a mess, she smiles.
What he truly despises is how pretty he finds it.
“You don’t hate me.”
He sneers. “Is that so?”
“Hate isn’t the opposite of love. Indifference is,” she leans in. “And I’d hardly call chasing me through the castle simply because I kissed someone else…indifferent.”
He decides then — or more accurately, his too-horny, too-angry, too-impulsive brain decides for him — to wipe the pleased grin off her face the most effective way he knows how.
With a hand fisted in her hair and his mouth crashing against hers.
It isn’t tender or sweet, nor the remotest definition of kind, but it’s fitting and dreadfully familiar, because it’s not like they’ve ever been nice to one another.
He lets go of her wrists to give her some fighting chance, because he’s cruel, but he prides himself on being fair. Instead of pushing him away, or going for her wand, or doing anything to indicate she doesn’t want this, however, she pulls him in. As if she knows exactly how to bring him to his knees, in any and all contexts, and revels in any opportunity to destroy him.
He almost thinks it’s a trap, another one of her grating ploys, but when she tangles her fingers in his hair and drags her nails down his scalp and kisses him back with just as much fervor as he does, it’s hard to believe it’s simply a farce.
Her tongue finds his and Sebastian wonders if they’ll ever do anything together that doesn’t mimic a battle. She fights for dominance in every stroke of her tongue against his, and his stubbornness refuses to grant her it.
“Fuck,” he groans against her mouth, because he’s learning just how much she kisses the same way she duels.
Dirty, unfair, brutal. Like she’s never been afraid of blood, or getting messy, or breaking things.
She stokes a fire that’s been simmering inside him until it’s red-hot and all-consuming, flames licking at the inside of his throat. He pulls her bottom lip between his teeth and bites until he tastes copper, finding some sick form of satisfaction at the pained little whine she lets out.
“You kissed him,” he pants, and there’s something raw in his voice. He rests his forehead against hers and stares at the crimson pooling on her lip. “You kissed him.”
She swallows. “I did.”
Sebastian despises how hurt he sounds. “I could kill him.”
“You won’t.”
“I could.”
“I know,” she nods, chest heaving against his. Her voice grows suddenly soft, until it’s barely a whisper. “I wanted it to be you.”
He groans, almost pained. “Did you?”
She nods.
“Has he ever touched you?”
She shakes her head.
“Tell the truth,” he says, fingers threading through the tangled remains of her chignon, tilting her face up towards him so he can meet her eyes. “Did you let him touch you?” He presses a leg between her thighs, barely able to feel her through layers of tulle. “Here?”
“No,” she gasps from the contact, nails scrambling to drag down his forearm. “Never.”
“Fuck,” he sighs, and tips his head down to press against her throat, drags his lips over her jaw. “Only me, hm? Say it.”
She shakes her head and his gaze darkens, pulling back to tighten his fingers still tangled in her hair, to tear a whimper from the back of her throat.
“No? Who then?”
“No one,” she whispers, and despite the tight angle her neck is at, despite the fear dancing behind her eyes, she smiles up at him again. “You haven’t touched me yet, though, have you?”
She’s baiting him, and he’s aware of it, and still it manages to work.
He feels his self-restraint slipping through the cracks of his fingers like sand. There’s traces of scarlet on her teeth he wants to drag his tongue over. He wants to suck the marrow from her bones.
He spins her around, presses her cheek into the cool flagstone of the corridor they’re in, and molds his body to hers.
“S-shit,” she curses when his patience wears thin and he yanks at the fabric hiding her body away from his, pulling at the skirt of her gown until it rips. “Asshole.”
“Looks better this way.”
His fingers coast up her thighs to hook into her knickers, tugging them down before she can protest. She gasps and he smiles against her cheek, pushing her hand away when she tries to cover herself.
He nips at her ear, his hand reaching between her legs to cup her sex, reveling in the way she tries to squirm away from him.
“What’s wrong? Going to act shy now?”
“Someone could see,” she grits, though something in her tone tells him she’s not going to stop him.
“Wouldn’t they be lucky.”
His breath stutters when he finally dips his fingers between her folds and finds how soaked she is. Something about the revelation is dizzying, the notion that she could possibly want this as badly as he does. He grinds his hips into her arse so she’s just as aware of how gone he is.
Immediately, his hand is fumbling with his belt, the other pressing bruises into her hip to keep her still. He kicks her feet open wider, spreading her for him. His fingers flex on her hip in anticipation.
“You have full permission to use any Unforgivables you want on me if you want me to stop,” he murmurs, burying his nose in her hair and inhaling deeply. He groans. “You’re not getting me off of you in any other way.”
When she doesn’t make any move for her wand he positions himself at her entrance, rubbing to coat himself in her fluids. Her breathing is heavy against the wall she’s pressed against, her gasps coming out in soft little pants. He revels in them for a long moment.
Then, he’s impaling her and all of her breathing stops. Replaced instead by a strangled sort of sound, as if he’d managed to knock out all of the air in her lungs with a single thrust. His jaw falls slack.
He manages to composure himself enough to murmur in her ear, voice hoarse. “Hurts?”
She chokes out a sob, nodding weakly. Her head falls against the wall, clenching around him as she tries to adjust to his size.
His hips snap forward again, even harsher this time, burying himself to the hilt and tearing a yelp out of her throat. “Good.”
“S–Sebastian—”
He pauses, so deep inside her he can feel every little pulse, hips flush against her arse. “Want me to stop?”
Miraculously, she shakes her head. It’s never like her to back down from a fight, after all.
“Of course,” he chuckles, though it sounds uncharacteristically strained, imprecise. Like he’s losing his grip. His head falls to her shoulder and he moans, grunting feverishly against her skin as he starts a brutal, unforgiving pace. “You can take it. Look so pretty taking it.”
“Please,” she whines. “Too much, I–I can’t,”
“You’re a tough girl,” he whispers, tone vicious despite his words. “You’re going to shut your fucking mouth and take my cock.”
She nods fervently, obediently, and Sebastian thinks he deserves a medal for not finishing right then. He yanks her hips back from the wall, shifting the angle and she gasps when he feels him push in even deeper.
“Oh my God,” she moans. “Good — feels s’good, yes, yes. Plea–please don’t stop.”
“Fuck,” he grunts, voice sandpaper-rough. He snakes a hand to her front to rub tight little circles between her legs. “Look at you babbling. Dumb little cock-drunk slut. Can’t even think properly with me inside you like this, can you?”
Her response is too garbled for coherence, a mess of moans and pleas. He groans in a way that’s almost just as saturated with desperation, that tells her she’s not alone in her unraveling. He pulls her head back to smash his lips to her, stifling all kinds of confessions that threaten to escape him.
She breaks the kiss to gasp for air and his fingers swirl against her just right. She tightens. “Gonna — m‘gonna cum,”
“Yeah? Come for me, baby,” his voice breaks on the word, and he’s aware he’s practically begging. He’s too far gone to care, so he scrapes a kiss to her heat-flushed cheek and properly pleads.
“Please. So fucking beautiful. Let me see your pretty face when you come undone for me,” he stares down at her through half-lidded eyes and briefly contemplates the possibility that he’s died and gone to heaven when she looks back at him. “That’s it, look at me.”
He studies her as he sends her over the edge and pulls himself over along with her, her lashes fluttering as she struggles to keep her eyes on his.
The sight is enough to ruin him.
Her makeup a mess from the tear tracks running through them, the hair fisted in his hands in an even worse state, and somehow— she still manages a lopsided smile, as if beyond pleased with herself.
He’s faintly aware of the fact she’s won. He makes peace with the realization.
There’s nothing but the sound of their heavy breathing to fill the silence in the hallway as Sebastian tries to regain his bearings, still buried inside her. Neither of them move for a long moment, and Sebastian likens it to the peace following a war, a brief period of prosperity.
He’s conscious that it’s temporary.
She winces when he finally pulls out of her, their shared spend trickling down the insides of her thighs, her knees nearly giving out to the point he has to hold her up, even if his own legs feel dreadfully unstable.
It doesn’t take her long for her to detach her body from his own, to duck under his arm and slip away. Panic suddenly seizes his chest, dread trickling up his spine. For some reason, he can’t bear to watch her leave. He opens his mouth to say something—an apology, maybe—but she beats him to it.
“That was fun,” she says plainly, glancing back at him over her shoulder. It’s as if they’d just finished another duel. Hardly anything to bat an eye at. Sebastian is at a remarkable loss for words.
She hasn’t continued down the hallway, but she looks as if she’s prepared to.
He’s faintly aware of the fact he probably looks like a fish right now, jaw still slack.
When he doesn’t say anything, she turns her attention to righting her underthings and fixing the tattered remains of her gown. He watches her.
“Goodnight, Sebastian.”
Suddenly sprung to life by the threat of her absence, he takes a step forward. “I’ll walk you back.”
She snorts. “Ever the gentleman.”
“Unless, you’d like to, uh,” he stares down at his shoes, looking uncharacteristically sheepish. “I could transfigure something for us in the Undercroft.”
She looks amused. “My god, you’re insatiable.”
He reddens. “I didn’t mean—oh, Salazar, to sleep…I meant to sleep.”
She turns to face him fully and raises her brows. “You’re asking me if I’d like to forego my own bed in order to spend the night with you in a dusty cellar?”
Mortification washes over him. Why would she? He should’ve kept his mouth shut and walked her to her dorm room instead of deluding himself with the notion that this could’ve been anything more than a quick fuck.
She stares at him expectantly and his fingers twitch at his side with the desire to grab his wand and promptly Avada himself.
It’s then that she decides to saunter over to him, taking her time, until she’s right beside him and can tuck her arm into his. She gestures forward, almost impatient.
“Go on then. I’m little spoon.”
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temis-de-leon · 7 days
Text
When Greed is too much
Characters: Mammon x gn!MC
Main Masterlist
M. Anon: good day, tennis. im an anon who lurks around your work. i find your work fascinating and I hope you may make a small oneshot for me. can you make a mammon x reader fanfiction? the pronounce doesn't matter. and the fanfiction could be about mammon and reader sneaking out frequently because mammon likes to gamble and they get caught one day and mammon took all of the blame for himself. i think it would be a good idea for a oneshot. but putting that aside, I adore your work. i like how you describe everything and your headcanons are interesting. i hope you can keep uploading. sending platonic loves.
A/N: I got a little distracted and made Mammon feel guilty af instead of taking the blame, I'm sorry, I hope you like it anyways <3 A little reference right at the end
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Mammon had a complicated relationship with money.
He loved it too much to hate it and he needed it enough to forgive the danger it brought within. He would inlay it under his skin if he could, if Lucifer let him, making him shine under the lights like a kaleidoscope.
Cold metal between his fangs to check its authenticity, smooth paper sliding through his fingers, hard plastic shaping his wallet. Jewellery, clothes, his car. He had them because he needed it in any way, shape or form, like water to fish, riches to him. A bottomless pit that got bigger and bigger the more he threw in.
His fingers were longer and thinner than his brothers’ and more than once he had wondered if his sin had modified his body to easily indulge in it. He was also the fastest runner when he needed to and he could turn his words to honey if the situation required it. An opportunist thief, even if he disliked the term.
And he knew stealing wasn’t okay, but no amount of Lucifer’s punishments would stop him from doing so. He could manage hanging upside down for hours on end and, even when the lectures were painfully boring and made him want to die, sitting in the same position for as long as his brother decided was something he could live through. Lotan, or rather the flood it implied, was a bothersome threat and, although terrifying, the witches wouldn’t seriously hurt him unless Lucifer knew he could take it.
Still, constantly going through that was annoying, so he went to the next best thing, a place where condemned souls like him got together and did what pleasured him the most: bring money to the table. The wheel of fortune laid deep in his chest; sometimes he deceived himself, others, he was right.
Fortunately for his ego, his dignity and his integrity, Mammon had found his perfect lucky charm. Human shape and devoted to him, every time MC joined him in his escapades, his wallet came back home fatter than when they left. It was refreshing and addicting and it didn’t take him too long to actually need MC’s presence each time he left the house to gamble.
At first it was just once or twice every week and a half, then at least once a week, then three times a week, then every night. He would invite them to his room, taking advantage of the alibi their relationship offered, hang out and fool around until every single one of his brothers was asleep and then sneak out through the garage door.
It was a fun, bonding time between them. Holding hands while running from one corner of the town to another, pockets heavier and heavier as the night went by and clothes reeking of the cigars, alcohol and perfume of those who pushed them around amidst the chaos of the casino.
Mammon lived for all of that, especially now that MC was by his side, watching him thrive and win, over and over and over again. In their eyes, he succeeded and he was the one to carry the golden medal. Not his brothers, not their friends, him.
Eventually, he did what he did best and pushed his luck.
After an outstanding winning streak, they finally got to the night when everything went astray, losing every bet and every game, eventually finding themselves deep in debt with the casino and a bunch of furious patrons and, although begrudgingly, admitting that a period of restraint was long overdue.
And then they got home.
“When will you learn?” Lucifer said for the hundredth time while tightening the rope around his torso and trapping his hands behind his back.
“C’mon! It wasn’t that bad!”
He tried to smile to downplay the situation, but it came out wobbly and his fear was too obvious for his brother to ignore. Lucifer grinned with malice, eyes darkening in evil enjoyment before bending down to tie Mammon’s ankles together, slow in his movements and his words.
“Do you truly think this would’ve ended well? We both know you’re an idiot, but the limits you’re willing to cross outstand me. Bringing MC into this? Really? You moronic dimwit… I thought you would be the last to put them in danger. Alas, I was wrong”
“I’ve never put them in danger”
His immediate response brought Lucifer back to his feet, both of them now serious and locking eyes with each other. Mammon felt the rough edges of the rope scraping his skin, uncomfortably keeping him in place under his brother’s infuriated gaze.
“Taking them out of the house for hours every night, making them play games against lowlife demons and risking their safety for a few coins, what is that to you if not jeopardizing their life?”
“A few coins? We made ourselves rich!”
“Is that what bothers you about what I just said?”
“I’m telling you they were safe with me!”
Lucifer sighed, shaking his head in disappointment and going around Mammon. A noise coming from behind filled him with dread and he didn’t have time to beg for more time before something pulled his feet to the side and his body hit the carpeted floor. It barely softened the fall and soon his pained groans reached every corner of the staircase.
“You truly never learn”
“I’ll do it! I’ll learn! Please don’t leave me here! You can’t abandon your baby brother here, can’t you? It was an honest mistake!”
“Mammon”
After securing the rope around one of the beams from the ceiling, the eldest took a few steps down and looked at him from above. His voice was low, hopeless, and Mammon found that more hurtful than the strong grip around his limbs or the pounding on his head.
“You’re lucky MC’s heart shines brighter than mine” Lucifer said, leaving him speechless “One of these days you will go too far and I’m not sure who will be there to catch you”
“What…?”
“Rest well, Mammon” he continued to go down the stairs, not bothering to look at him anymore. He spoke one last time before disappearing completely. “And think about what I said, will you?”
Lucifer’s footsteps merged into the night, the lights turned off and, suddenly, Mammon found himself alone.
He was still wearing the clothes he’d chosen to go to the casino hours ago, jewellery dangling over his face and DDD threatening to fall out of his pocket. The screen lightened up, showing MC’s name, and the desperation to answer the call made him squirm enough to ultimately make the phone fall to the bottom of the stairs. He grimaced at the cracking sound.
Asmo would say it was karma for being a scumbag and he didn’t know if he should start believing that.
He wasn’t a scumbag, was he? MC was fine! Not a scratch in their pretty face to complain about and every bit of their outfit still in place and making them look even better. They had been smiling when they finally got to the garage door, shallowly breathing while they checked him out in search of any type of damage.
They were fine.
They had been smiling because they’d been having fun. Or was it out of relief? Heart beating in fear, terrified about him and the punishment that awaited them both once Lucifer found them.
Mammon craned his neck, looking at the remains of his DDD with a sting in his throat. Why did MC call him? Were they mad at him? Did they have enough? The thought of actually putting them in danger for a piece of metal, easily ripped paper or soon to be frozen plastic made his hear stop in panic.
He was a fast runner, an immortal demon with wings. It was easy for him to flee and leave his troubles behind, but MC didn’t have the same advantages. They were a human, flesh and soul in close proximity, easy to eat and forget.
A gasp escaped him at the image of his partner being tore apart and he shook his head trying to chase it away, but it was no use. He closed his eyes and it was there, like an omen or a reminder, Lucifer’s words roaring in his mind.
His name got louder and louder until It finally sounded right next to his ear. A hand cupped his neck and MC’s worried face appeared in his line of vision, but the remorse didn’t let him feel relief.
“Are you okay? Let me get you down. I got out as soon as I could, but I’m sure Lucifer knows I’m here anyways. What a way to end the night…”
He huffed at their whispers, his heart breaking piece by piece. Looking at MC and the way they carefully untied the knots, he knew Lucifer was right. The dumb human was too good for him and didn’t want to acknowledge it, choosing instead to stick by his side each day until it would be too late.
“I’m sorry” he finally said in a broken voice.
“For what, dummy?”
“I put you in danger”
MC chuckled, kissing his jaw before freeing his arms and watching the rope fall down. Mammon leaned forward until he touched his feet, noticing his body burning while he worked the knots that creased the leather in his boots.
“How did you put me in danger?” they asked with a hint of humour in their voice “As far as I know, I went with you willingly and we had a bad night. It was bound to happen after winning that much money”
“But they almost attacked us…”
“We got out of there just in time” MC interrupted him, then frowned and put their hands on their hips. “Did Lucifer said something to you?”
“No”
The lie was obvious and MC licked their teeth in poorly contained fury. Seconds later, Mammon finally set himself free and swung on the rope to reach the banister. Once he settled and stood straight, MC rushed to hug him. Both of them stayed silent and basking in the comfort that surrounded them.
He didn’t know what to say. He wanted to beg them not to reprimand Lucifer and he wanted to thank them for freeing him and staying with him beyond what he definitely deserved, but no words came out and forcing them would make him cry; and doing that in front of MC would definitely kill him faster than Lucifer could ever do.
In the end, none of them said anything, instead clinging to each other like their lives depended on it. Slowly, as if they were handling a wounded animal, MC grabbed his hands and lead him towards their room.
What did that human movie say?
He’d die for them. He’d kill for them. Either way, what bliss.
.
.
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azulsluver · 11 months
Note
I just binge read your bully au for twst and OMG! What if MC ends up cracking, going numb to protect themselves. They still do as told, but they have sky eyes, no emotion. Who would keep pushing to see them fully break, or who would just dump them like trash!?! Hell, who would enjoy them losing the fight in them!
tw: yandere, bully!characters, blood mention, unhealthy relationships/behavior, victim blaming.
Disclaimer, you don’t actually want this n stay safe from people like this!
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Continue tormenting for fun:
Leona
Doesn't take you seriously. That's it? You're giving up already, gosh you really can't do anything by yourself...Leona is less than disappointed, in fact he knew good things would come to an end. But you still serve some purpose to him, Leona can't find himself to throw away his favorite toy, some things are just meant worth keeping. Even when broken and used.
Sebek
I don't think he'd catch on very quick, how you follow his instructions yet when the heel of his boot hits your back you make no sound of pain. Sebek should've known humans were too weak to handle his training, being pushed a little really got you that gone? This will only give Sebek the advantage to harm you further, he likes taking his frustration out on you without you screaming.
Lilia
You lasted longer than the others, and he'll applause you for that. Lilia doesn't necessarily hate this new you, embracing it but continues to see just exactly how far you can go. You're only in a shell, and he's not dumb, Lilia will stare longingly into your hollowed orbs, there is still a hint of you. Hiding away from him, Lilia is only fueled to either have you brain dead or back.
Rook
You're absolutely divine, he'll say as he wipes the trickling blood on your lips. You can't fool Rook with those dead-beat eyes, in fact this new look is beautiful. Rook craves for more of this expression you possess, he's seen you smile and cry, he wants to unravel more until you actually break. Rook has done some research on how the human mind can shut down when pushed into pressure, the thought of your alive yet corpse like body not instructing as told, he knows you're still in there.
Jamil
Jamil is conflicted with himself, you're alive but not yourself. A part of him enjoys the fact you won't refuse his affections. But did he really want this? Don't get this the wrong way, Jamil still prefers to beat you into submission, a sick part of him loves you so much yet he can't reciprocate his feelings to you. Understanding that this new you, will help ease his overwhelming emotions, he doesn't need to pretend anymore. Your clouded eyes are what he loves best.
Vil
Recents posts of him explain that Vil absolutely needs you just to take his anger out on. He’s in love with you no doubt, but embarrassment shames him from normally communicating with you. So even if you were emotionless he’d find some use, because he can’t get rid of you no matter how badly beaten your skin is. It’s you, and he’ll have no other person.
Epel
Didn’t know how to react at first. Epel kicks you a couple of times to see how you’d react. I think he because you aren’t responding to any of his criticisms does he ponder. He’s smitten with you, creating a fake narrative on his behavior that what he’s doing is ok, when he’s well aware it isn’t. Keeps you around because your nice to relieve stress from, doesn’t mind if you aren’t screaming and crying.
Toss them away (but he'll start thinking about you then wants you back eventually):
Jade
What a shame...he knew it was a bad idea to share with Floyd. You broke so easily, so fast, just when things were getting good. What good of an experiment if they give the same reaction, you aren't screaming as much as he expected. And the worse part is you listen to exactly what he asks for, there is no hesitation or breaking down to crying, you really are willing to cut off your hand? How boring.
Floyd
Frustrated, acts as if he didn't expected this to happen. Floyd is throwing a huge tantrum once he finds out you don't kick or scream at him. He misses the terror in your eyes when he asks you a question of such, now you're giving him a blank look! Not safe to say, if Azul or Jade wasn't there, you would've been dead for good, Floyd can't handle the fact his shrimpy is lame now. Out of pure anger, he would let his feelings get the best of him.
Kalim
At first he wouldn't notice your change of behavior. But that spark in you is gone now, Kalim doesn't want broken things. You were fun to play with, because he usually got high off the power he held over you, his stress toy won't even give him a proper bark. I mean you do bark, just not with enough enthusiasm. Like a fussing child, Kalim would have you thrown out, until he starts to miss having you beside his feet....
Cater
Makes the saddest noise when he notices how little you react to his touches. Slaps your cheeks a couple of times to make sure. Dramatically mourns over your past self before rudely telling you how you weren’t gonna last long with him either way. It’s been a nice ride with you he says, leaving with a kiss on the forehead. It’s cruel but depressing, because on his end he’s up at night staring at the photos of your more lively self. He misses those terrified eyes..
Enjoys the new MC and somewhat stops:
Riddle
The fire within you finally died, no more to fuel to feed. Just burnt ashes laying pitifully on the floor, grimy and unusual. Riddle is relived, he had proved a point to himself. All of his hard work to make you into the perfect person, docile and understanding. Riddle now has no reason to push you, you're at your fullest degree. You do as told, and no one gets hurt, physically and emotionally. (he's just like his mom frfr)
Ace
At a sense of peace. Once Ace understands that you are no longer you but a fragment he's thrilled. His mean names slowly die down, much more softer and cheesy when talking to you. If you're still there, disgusted or not he'd lay his head on your shoulder and mumble to you how much of a coward he was to confess. But all went well, the paranoia of you rejecting him gone. I mean what else can a lifeless you do?
Deuce
Has no other reason to bully you. You’re doing things just as he wanted and he couldn’t be happier. Like Ace he was paranoid of your rejection. But you don’t stray away from his rough hands massaging your cheek, kisses that bruise your lips. It’s heaven for him, he wouldn’t trade it for anything else.
Malleus
He didn’t think you’d break so fast. Malleus barely lays a hand on you yet his words cut deep. Perhaps you finally learned your place, all that hard work and learning how to court a single-minded human like you payed off. You won’t have to face the wrath of his verbal abuse because he’s nothing but sweet to you. You look lovely no matter how bad it gets.
Ruggie
Ruggie didn’t go extreme measures to hurt you that bad. Maybe he got to you before the others could take advantage of your newfound persona. Like he always do, Ruggie takes care of things. By things he means you. Sure you’re practically not yourself anymore but it’s still you in some shape and form. His words won’t mean nothing to damage you, so now you’ll be taken under his care. Best person to be with in this situation.
Idia
Shitty attitude stopped so quick. Was leaning more to tossing you away but Idia gets attached quickly. He would never admit but you’re his favorite pastime everything, he can’t ditch you. So eventually all of his bullying stop because there is nothing to get a reaction from. Much more calmer and talkative around you. It’s nice knowing you aren’t actively judging him as he talks, no cover ups to be douche.
Jack
Once the numbers of people targeting you goes down does he step in. Jack is worried, genuinely. I think reader being emotionless snaps something inside of him, does he claim to protect you fully and run away from everyone else. His guilt that you turned out this way eats him, but he downs it out by telling himself you brought too much attention now he must clean the mess up.
Silver
There is a good case scenario if Malleus wasn’t so attached to you and Sebek left you alone!! Lilia can see how devastated Silver is once he finds out your condition. You’re almost lifeless, Lilia let’s Silver care for you because he finally found the guts to ask. Silver tends to your needs, all those years of standing from afar and watching you get hurt somewhat paid off. You’re dependent on him and he doesn’t wanna admit how good it feels.
Trey
Settles down like some retired man. He’s happy you found peace and stop causing trouble. You’ll be in his full care now, sure he’ll have his usual sadistic tendencies but it’s much more tame and softer. He doesn’t mind however if you come back to him all bruised and sore, he will feed and clothe you back to health. Over and over again. At least he stops his bullying behavior for a while.
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hard thought :
chris feeling his rut coming, his girl coming home with her male coworker’s scent on her, chris fucking her brains out and painting her cunt in his cum, breeding her to bits, fluffy aftercare.
HELP THIS IS GONNA BE ON MY MIND FOREVER!!
anon i hate you (i love you) because this ask.... THIS ASK.... i couldn't stop thinking about this ask. it literally made me black out and next thing i knew there were words in my google docs and.... yeah. again, might as well share it JKSDFHSKJDFH (this is barely proof-read, sorry, i was literally possessed writing this sdfhsjkdf)
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Pairing: Werewolf!Chan x Human!F.Reader (one of the main pairings of my WereRoomies series, but you don’t really need to read any other instalments to understand/enjoy this one). | Word Count: ~2k | Warnings: smut · established relationship · chubby/curvy MC · Chris’ POV · mandatory Christopher is Intense™ warning · pet names · possessiveness · unprotected penetration (no barrier method, but BC is used) · praising · creampie · breeding kink · copious amounts of fluids (concerningly so. but this is some monster fuckery, what else would you expect?)
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It wasn’t enough. Nowhere near enough.
“C–Chris, b–baby…”
“Hm? What is it, pretty? Want me to stop?”
You shook your head, nuzzling your face on the bed sheets. Chris could feel his heart swell in his chest, you were just how he wanted you to be… moaning, whining, saying his name and only his name.
But, still, it wasn’t enough.
Whenever you came home from work, with the smell of your coworkers all over you, he typically didn’t mind. It was only natural for you to smell like other people after spending all day with them, just like he probably did, too. But today, the smell of your male colleagues on you triggered something in him, something primal that was usually perfectly kept at bay.
You didn’t even question it when he wrapped his arms around your waist and held you from behind while you washed a pot in the sink. After all, it wasn’t uncommon for him to cling to you.
‘Are you a wolf or a koala?’ you’d ask him sometimes, which always made him chuckle.
Today, Chris didn’t chuckle at the question. He simply buried his face deeper in the crook of your neck, kissing and licking your skin, trying to get rid of any traces of foreign scents–or rather, trying to leave his behind.
Sneaking a hand under your shirt, he held your soft belly, squishing and kneading your flesh while his other hand was too busy caressing your hips. ‘…Right now? I’m a wolf, pretty. A very horny wolf’.
Which was how you both ended up here.
With a hand between your shoulder blades, Chris kept your upper body pressed to the mattress, while the other diligently rubbed circles on your clit, making you clench harder around his length, ripping a low growl from deep within his chest. The sound was barely audible, but it was certainly there, mingling with the slapping of skin that seemed to bounce off of the walls as he kept fucking you from behind.
The feel of the soft, supple flesh of your bum against his skin was absolutely delectable, and the squelching sounds coming from where your bodies met were starting to make Chris lose his mind. How many times had he come? Two? Three? He wasn’t sure. The only thing he was sure of was that it wasn’t enough. 
“You’re so fucking perfect, baby. Perfect”, Chris’ pace picked up, eliciting a desperate whine from your lips. “Perfect and mine. Right? Just mine?”
Tightening your grip on the bed sheets, seeking his forearm with your free hand, you simply nodded, pushing your hips back to meet his thrusts.
“Say it”, Chris spoke between gritted teeth, speeding the movement of his fingers on your clit, determined to get you to your peak. Well, to another peak…
How many times had you come? Three? Four? He didn’t know, and at this point, he didn’t care. Once again, all he knew was that it wasn’t enough.
“Y–yours”, you could barely speak, and had Chris been a bit more coherent he would’ve probably slowed down. But as it was now, he simply couldn’t. If anything, the faintness in your voice made him go faster, chasing not only the feel of your skin hitting his, but also the delicious feel of your tightness dragging back and forth around him. “Close…”
“Close?” Chris could certainly tell you were close. The smell of your arousal wrapped around every single one of his nerve endings, your heart was beating so fast and loud in your chest it was mingling with his own heartbeat in his ears.
The vice grip of your cunt clouded his mind, the feeling of you around him had him salivating, grunting, groaning… Tingles of pleasure ran up and down his spine, and he could feel his own orgasm nearing increasingly fast. 
“Can you take another load, pretty? Hm?”
He knew you could. After all, you’d already taken everything he had given you so far. But still, he desperately wanted you to say it, he needed you to say it.
You nodded again, whining, and something akin to the word ‘please’ left your mouth. That simple sound got him so incredibly close, so close he was starting to lose the little composure he had left in him.
“Need to…stuff you full, baby”, you didn’t say anything after the words left his mouth. You honestly didn’t need to, he could feel how hard you clenched as soon as he said it. “You like it, don’t you, love? When I fill you up? When I fuck my cum back in as deep as it can go?” 
You nodded, so eagerly he could feel his head start to spin.
That was exactly what he’d done this entire time, shoot his load into your warmth, only to keep fucking you even when you were already filled to the brim. It didn’t matter, though, because doing it once, twice, thrice, just wasn’t enough. Chris needed you to be as full of him as you could, he needed to give you more, as much as his body was capable of. And judging by how he’d not gone soft once the entire time, he just couldn’t stop until that primal need was fulfilled, until his inner wolf was satisfied.
Finally, you moaned his name, so prettily he almost felt blessed that he was able to hear you over and over again. With an assortment of loud swears, your whole body trembled with your release, and Chris finally removed his fingers from your sensitive nub. Instead, he brought both of his hands to your hips so he could pull you back to meet his thrusts when you clearly couldn’t do it on your own anymore.
He vaguely registered praising you for it. He could feel his heart swell with pride, not only because of how good he’d made you feel, but also for how well you’d done for him, for how well you’d taken it all. Satisfied mate, perfect mate, mine, just for me, soft mate just for me…
“Gonna–Fuck, pretty, gonna stuff you so fucking full…”
With a low, drawn out growl, Chris finally let himself go. The undeniable satisfaction of an orgasm always seemed to triple whenever he got to pump you full of his cum, and today, at this very moment, nothing had felt quite as fulfilling as this did.
Even when he came, though, he didn’t stop moving. He vaguely registered the sting of overstimulation, but he just couldn’t stop. All you did was take it. Take anything and everything he had to give as quiet whimpers fell from your lips and your nails dug on his forearm. 
“Need to…” He was panting, groaning, and he could barely hear anything over his beating heart in his ears. “Need to make sure it sticks….”
Chris was delirious, for sure. Nothing would stick. It never did, you were protected in that regard, but his numerous orgasms had his logical, human mind completely disconnected from reality. All he had left were his wolf instincts, those instincts that urged him to claim you in the utmost primal way possible, those instincts that urged him to give you a part of himself, that urged him to breed you.
One, two, three, four thrusts, and he finally stilled, groaning. A shiver ran up and down his spine, and before he could even stop himself, he collapsed, squishing you between his body and the mattress when your knees finally gave out under his weight.
Even through the haze, he couldn’t help but wonder if you could feel how hard his heart was beating against your back.
“Fuck, baby, you okay?” Chris was panting still, his mind foggy, oscillating between this moment in your shared bedroom and somewhere deep within himself.
You laughed. A hearty laugh, albeit a bit strained. “Are you?”
The sound brought to the forefront of his heart all that undeniable love he felt for you, dissipating some of that fogginess in his brain. Chris couldn’t help but laugh as well. 
Carefully, he peeled his body away from you, leaving the warmth of your inner walls in the process, which honestly shouldn’t have made him feel this irrationally sad. His erection was finally going down, he’d been hard for so long, but only now did he register how sore he was.
As soon as he kneeled on the bed, with his hands on your bum, spreading you open to see bucket loads of his cum trickling out of your abused hole, he felt himself twitch, and for a microsecond he feared the cycle would start all over again.
Thankfully, it didn’t.
Chris simply heaved a sigh of relief, absentmindedly staring at your centre, at your mixed fluids oozing out of you and soiling your bed sheets in the process.
It dawned on him then just how desperately needed this, which puzzled him a bit. Sure, he’d be the first to admit he loved to be all over you, but he genuinely felt like he couldn’t breathe until he stuffed you as full of his cum as he possibly could.
“Baby?” Your voice snapped him out of the daze he was in, making him blink. 
Looking back at your face, he was met with a teasing–yet a bit tired–smile on your lips. “Hm?”
“You weren’t listening were you?” 
Chris felt himself flush. Had you spoken? He hadn’t heard a single thing. Was he that pussy drunk? He supposed he couldn’t blame himself for it. Not when you were the girl of his dreams, not when you were almost glowing in your post-orgasmic bliss, not when he was this unequivocally in love.
He simply shook his head in response, ignoring the heat he felt spreading from his chest to the back of his neck. 
“I asked if you were enjoying the view, Christopher”, you chuckled, and it made him smile.
He licked his lips, returning his eyes to your drenched folds, just in time to see more of him coming out. You totally did that on purpose, and he couldn’t help but scoff a chuckle, finally letting go of your buttocks so he could land a smack on one of them, right before he laid down next to you and pulled you into his arms. 
“I was”, he admitted, because what would be the point of lying to you? If there was one thing he could be with you, it was being honest. Chris pressed a kiss on your forehead, holding you tighter. “I love you”.
“Mmm… Love you, too”, was all you mumbled back, tucking your head under his chin, and draping a leg over his hip, pulling him closer to you. “I’m okay, by the way”.
“Good”, with his index and thumb on your chin, he pulled your face up, enough so he could kiss you. Probably the softest kiss he’d initiated since this all started. “I’m okay, too. More than okay”.
You both stayed there for a while, just kissing, cuddling, sharing some warmth, until Chris asked if you’d like a bath, to which you immediately agreed.
Now, with his back against the tub, and with you between his legs, your back against his chest, he simply held you close as you told him about your day. Chris listened intently, massaging your soft body under the water in an attempt to soothe your achy limbs while you spoke to him. 
In here, all he could smell on you now was your floral scent and the smell of your shared home, which probably meant you also smelt like him. The realisation, along with the sound of your voice, helped his muscles relax. Finally, he was at ease.
Chris told you about his day, too. Nonessential information about things he’d done, or office gossip that he knew you’d enjoy listening to. Even when you eventually turned to face him, grabbing his shampoo and lathering your hands.
“Babe”, your fingers glided through his hair, massaging in his shampoo on his scalp. Chris would admit he enjoyed this more than he thought he ever would. Just looking at your face this close, feeling the soft movement of your hands on his head… It always felt incredibly intimate and soothing. So much so he was sure that, had he been in his wolf form, his tail would be wagging right now. “I think your rut is coming very soon”.
His eyes widened. He started doing the math in his head, had that much time passed already? “Shit, you might be right”.
“Might?” You chuckled, using a cup to gather water from the tub so you could rinse the shampoo out of his hair. “I am right, baby. You don’t just pump me full of your cum four times in a row for no reason”.
A smile made its way onto his lips. He looked you in the eyes, relishing the galaxies he could see in them, ignoring how fast his heart started to beat at the sight. It wasn’t the feeling he needed right now, not when he wanted to tease you effectively. “You were begging for it, too, though”.
Finally done with his hair, you cradled his face in your hands, staring right back at him. “That’s ‘cause I love it when you stuff me full of your cum, Chris”.
The fine hairs at his nape stood on end, and he had to make the conscious effort not to shiver. Bringing his hands to your waist, Chris pulled you closer. “Pretty, if I fuck you again today I’ll have to be hospitalised for dehydration. Don’t just casually drop that on me, God…”
You chuckled, leaning in, kissing him tenderly, and he simply melted under the soft movement of your lips on his.
You were right, though. His rut was surely coming soon, probably sometime next week… He’d have to start making arrangements soon, just like you had to, too.
Food had to be prepared, drinks had to be bought, PTO had to be confirmed, and any sexual activities had to be stopped to make sure your body was well rested enough for what was to come. Chris couldn’t let himself go like he did today, he didn’t want to inadvertently hurt you later because of his idiotic wolf urges…
Everything else could wait until tomorrow, though. Tonight, the only thing that mattered to him was enjoying your company and your warmth.
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skyeslittlecorner · 3 months
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I feel like we didn't get enough moments with that beautiful king in chapter 5 (why PB >:(((()
Can you pls do a short story about MC who has been kidnapped (again) when they try to find a place to sleep to Leviathan's office where he demands them to sleep *in his coffin* (so he could keep an eye on them).
Okay I can only think that much. Hope you ok with this request 🥹 Luv u and your works 🫶 Have a great day!!!
Thanks for lovely words! AND I AGREE. I know that the plot needs to move forward, but my heart wants to stay longer. We only got to know Levi for a moment and quite superficially because he mostly talked to others. PAY ATTENTION TO US. Just no nooses, please. We'll play with the ropes later, maybe dinner first.
This turned out to be a bit long. Hope you'll like it!
Words: ~900
Kidnapped to sleep | Leviathan
Peace, just a little bit of peace. That's all you asked for. After a long, tiring day, you didn't even have time to sit down properly in your room for a moment. Just when you approached bed, a knocking sound came from inside the room instead of from outside.
“You knock before entering!” You huffed.
Foras appeared at your side without a hush.
"Sorry, but…"
“What’s going on again? And quickly, if you can.” You cut his words in half. Headache and tiredness make you thorny. All you wanted was to collapse like a log and fall asleep. Didn't even care anymore whether he tried to kill you or not, you had survived so many threats and potential murder attempts today that one here or there wouldn't make any difference. You almost softened when you saw the remorse written all over the dreamy devil's face.
“His Majesty wants to see you.”
Yeah, almost. 
“Tell him to stick his desires in… ugh.”
There was no point arguing. The quicker you deal with them, the better. You were about to leave when Foras grabbed your waist, and you felt your insides churning again. That bastard… you can walk on your own! No need to teleport!
The palace was even quieter and darker, but when Foras left you in his king's office, you didn't feel as overwhelmed as the first time. It reminded you of Prince Charming's room. Leviathan, as beautiful as he was mysterious, was leaning over the documents. You stood on your tiptoes to look at them.
"What are you doing? It's not your business."
“You called me here yourself.”
You won't let him push you around. Not only was it dangerous, it also hurt your pride. He ignored you and went back to work, so you sat down on the chair across him, not knowing for what he needed you, and started thinking. Just out of boredom. It wasn't the wisest decision you could have made in such a state. 
With such a beautiful creature by your side, it was hard to think of anything other than punishing him for the way he treated you. If only he could be beaten with a whip again. Choke. Oppress. Hear the gasps and moans as he runs out of breath. Milk would flow from these beautiful horns, and you would make him drink it himself...
"What are you staring at?"
Not only did he dare to be so beautiful in front of you, but he also disturbed your fantasies. The audacity.
"Beautiful."
A smile appeared on his lips and you clutched your mouth. This shouldn't have been let slip! Apparently, it only made him feel better, because he told you that you’re going to sleep together. Oh yes. It's time to put all these plans into action!
Reality hit you as soon as you sat down on the soft mattress in his coffin. How was it so comfortable here? It reminded you of a water bed with a cover on top like a canopy. Leviathan probably already thought you were a freak, so you had nothing to lose. You could have use him, abused him. But the soft material acted like a magnet. Silk is like flypaper. You were so tired... you closed your eyes just for a second, and suddenly felt the warmth next to you. A hot, masculine fragrance. And a strong arm that hung around your waist.
“I thought you hated me?”
“I do not like you. Just like everyone else.”
It was so comfortable. So… safe? You definitely needed some rest.
“So you also sleep cuddled up to your nobles like stuffed animals? Like now?”
He nuzzled his nose into your hair, not really bothered by your taunts.
“Silence. I have to keep an eye on you all the time. I can't let you endanger anyone.”
It occurred to you that for now you are only a danger to yourself, because you want to abuse the most dangerous king of hell you have ever met.
If only you had a whip at hand... wrapped in the darkness of the coffin and Levi's arm, the tiredness of the day came flooding back to you. You closed your eyes. Just for a second.
Two seconds later you were sound asleep, tucking your knee between the devil's legs. He grabbed the back of your neck and tightened his fingers.
“What are you thinking?”
You didn't think anything at that moment. Just purred in delight. Feeling the warm, broad chest, you clung to it unconsciously. No wonder you sought safety. That coffin almost devour you last time. What was strange was that you were looking for support in the arms of a man who was the reason for your anxiety, but who would care? He also didn't behave like a terrible tyrant, not now.
He ran his fingers through your hair. They were soft and fragrant, flowing between his fingers like a waterfall. You didn't see him, so he could afford it. So defenseless, hugging him, you no longer looked like a threat. If it weren't for his experience, he would almost be fooled by you. He promised himself he wouldn't fall into your trap, and despite his own promises, he wrapped his arms around you. Some devils can lie, and he was just trying to lie to himself.
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obey-me-disaster · 1 year
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Hey, I was wonderin if ya could write a headcanon of how the characters could deal with MCs death, if they weren't revived after Belphie killed em in lesson 16.
Thank ya :purple_heart:
A/N: I am not sure if by 'characters' you mean all of them or not. I will do the brothers for now and if you want anyone else, feel free to ask ^-^
Demon brothers x gn!MC
Spoilers for lesson 16!!
Warnings: death and description of it, grieving
MC stays dead for good
Lucifer
He is feeling so many things and none of them are good. MC is dead, his little brother did it, he failed to protect both and it all can be traced back to him.
MC's injuries are beyond healing and all he can do is watch them die and regret everything he has done up until that point. He regrets every time he tried to harm them, he regrets not hiding Belphegor better, far away from them.
When Diavolo and Barbatos appear he lets himself have some hope that they could save MC, only to get hit with the realization that not only would they stay dead, but Belphegor will be taken away for treason too.
If Barbatos decides to reveal the whole Lilith thing, this whole situation will become unbearable to him. He let down everyone he loved and he only has himself to blame.
If he knew how deep of a wound would MC's death leave in his heart, he would have chosen anyone but them for the exchange program. Or maybe not, it was still a privilege to get to know them in the first place.
After MC's death he becomes even stricter with his rules, so none of his brothers can do anything stupid that could get themselves in trouble. He can't bear to lose anyone close to him, especially if he can do something about it.
Mammon
He was the one that held their dying body. All his attention was on them, he couldn't hear the way Belphegor was mocking him for crying over a human.
Despite feeling how they were dying in his arms he was still trying to cling onto the hope that they could be healed. Unfortunately, fate was having something else in mind.
For a good while after their death he could still feel them dying in arms. He is really conflicted over trying to remember that way MC felt in his arms and trying to forget how it felt when they died.
Despite all of that he tries to be of help to all of his brothers. Lucifer can't be the only one trying to keep the family together, especially when he is grieving too. In a way this whole thing reminds him of how all his brothers were after the fall.
He stops takes a long break from gambling and from money making schemes. He really sees no use for the money if MC is not there with him.
He will most likely beat himself over the fact that he couldn't protect them. He was their first man after all, the demon that was put in charge of protecting them and he failed! He is not getting over that guilt any time soon
Leviathan
He thinks it's all a bad dream. Why else would his best friend be dying? At the hands of his brother?? He tries to deny it but it's pretty hard to do so when MC is literally dying in front of him.
He wants to believe that this is one of those moments when the protagonist of an anime is on the brink of death, but through the power of plot armor they get a new power. The only thing MC gets is a one way ticket to the Celestial Realm. guess Simeon and Luke will see them after all
He refuses to come out of his room and face reality. He will rewatch every anime he has watched with them. Will try to recreate the conversations he had with MC by talking with Henry 2.0. His brothers will have to bring food into his room to be sure he doesn't die of starvation.
It takes a long while before he starts going out again, after all, who is The Lord of Shadows without his Henry.
Any and all progress he made on seeing himself in a better light will go down the drain. He will need some time to snap out of it and realize that MC would not want to see him hate himself.
Satan
He knew there was no hope of saving MC bu just glancing at them. That was probably the only time in his life where he cursed all his knowledge and wished he was ignorant. Maybe that he way he could still have some hope that MC will live.
He goes between complete fits of rage and feeling numb. MC taught him how to better feel emotions other than anger and now that they are gone he doesn't know what to do with himself.
He doesn't know who should he direct his anger to. Belphegor for killing them? It seems obvious but it's not enough. Lucifer for creating this situation to begin with? He would love to, but Lucifer is also at his lowest so it doesn't feel right. Himself for not seeing the signs of MC working behind all of their backs? He already does that.
He avoids any and all romance books. He keeps seeing MC in the main love interest and he hates it.
He keeps thinking of all of their injuries and in how much pain they must have been in their last moments. If he wanted to, he could name all of their injuries that he recognized just by looking at their body.
He knows that logically he couldn't do anything, but sometimes the thought of 'if I was better at human medicine/biology I could have saved them'.
Asmodeus
It makes his skin crawl just thinking of the way MC looked as they were taking their last breath. He still has it in the back of his mind. Along that, he also has the feeling of helplessness memorized.
If anyone would think he would stop taking care of himself after MC's death, they would be deathly wrong. MC was one of the only people that didn't like just for his looks, and probably the only one vocal about how they loved his personality. Now with them gone, he thinks there is no one he can show flaws with.
He has to be at his best. To not let anyone know about his imperfections. The demons that don't know him may think he got over MC's death pretty fast, but his brothers that live with him can hear him sob in his bedroom.
He sleeps with a lot of demons and humans in hopes of getting rid of the pain but it doesn't help since he is missing the affectionate, non sexual, touches that MC would give him.
He made a special album of all the photos he ever took of MC. He didn't want to risk the photos from his phones disappearing by accident and lose something important for him. He would hate to not be able to gaze at their face, even if it's just through photos
Beelzebub
This man is crushed. Not only did he lose MC, he lost them at the hands of his twin. He is beyond torn on the inside, and no matter what side he chooses to take he will be riddled with guilt.
At that moment he felt just like during their fall. A huge joke of a protector that couldn't keep his loved ones alive. His nightmares after the whole incident will be nearly a daily basis.
He tries to talk with Belphie about the whole incident, he doesn't want to lose two people at the same time, but he also feels like he is betraying MC's memory by trying to save his twin.
If the whole reveal of MC being Lilith's reincarnation's descendent happens that will literally end him. He couldn't protect the last thing that was related to Lilith.
Just like Satan, his sin is out of control. He goes between long periods of not eating and periods where his gluttony is worse than ever.
The only thing worse than his gluttony is his survivor's guilt. People he loves and cares about keeping on dying/being taken away yet he remains unharmed and for what? Is that a cruel joke of the universe? He didn't even get to protect MC/talk with Belphie during the incident. He literally couldn't do anything but ask himself 'why?'
Belphegor
I already made a post on how MC and Belphegor got to bond before lesson 16.
At first he feels justified. He got his revenge, proved his point and protected his family from having the same faith as Lilith. Yet despite all of that it feels wrong.
Satisfaction from killing them quickly turned into anger at seeing his brothers cry over a 'random human' to regret. He realized that he himself got attached to them, and now that both his anger and MC were gone he was left with nothing. His brothers must hate him now, after all he murdered someone precious to them.
Due to treason he is locked up somewhere away from his brothers so in his mind, he really lost everything. If Diavolo and Barbatos reveal the whole Lilith thing he will literally want to end himself on the spot. He lost his sister, MC, the only remainder of his sister, lived in hate for something that was not even true, betrayed his brothers and lost them. In one night his life took a turn for the worst in a way he could not even imagine.
And on top of all of that, he can feel the way Beel is trying to cope with the loss of MC and feels even more guilty for making Beel go through that.
He also can't make himself grieve for MC cause in his mind, he has no right to do that, after all he killed them in cold blood and laughed over their body.
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noroi1000 · 7 months
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HI! I'm the one who asked if your request is open ^^
I'm just want to know how would it be if the mc/reader is the one who defected not suguru. How would both of them react. Thank you so much!
I've been reading you on AO3 and I'm so glad I found your tumblr too!
- 💫
Wild Animal
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Summary: You were always their best friend. You were so tiny to them. You could fight; you were a sorcerer. But to make them smile at you again, you took their bad thoughts to make them smile. Instead of letting Suguru kill someone, you did it.
Warnings: mentions of death
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You were so close to your friends. You were sometimes cute to them, sometimes funny. Sometimes pretty. Shoko has told you more than once that they like you. But how can a girl who is their friend fight for their hearts? Besides, you could never choose between them.
Even though you were starting to see that they were getting closer to you, much closer than to the others, you didn't want to do anything that would change your current life.
You were so docile to them. Even though you were strong enough with your technique to fight any of them. There's a reason why, when they were grade 1, you were grade 2. And then you were promoted to semi-grade 1. You were getting closer to them. And that was the point. When you are at the same level, you will be just like them!
You won't be weaker, and you won't be stronger.
But you were docile to them. You internally liked the feeling of them smiling at you so softly. And you were docile and sweet.
That's why Satoru said several times that you are like a cat. And Suguru confirmed it. To them, you were so docile.
Docile animals don't attack without reason, right? They won't do anything wrong, right?
After the mission with Riko, you collected their negative emotions for you.
You collected it, making them stop thinking about it.
They told you absolutely everything. Including their inner thoughts about it.
Right after everything that happened, thanks to Satoru, you understood what death is. He told you what it felt like to die. And you could have listened to him and hugged him.
Satoru understood that he was strong and that he had to protect weaker people. He is higher than others. And as someone stronger, he can keep them safe.
He understood something he had previously rejected.
But Suguru...
It was Suguru who knew the role of the sorcerer from the very beginning. That the sorcerer must protect non-sorcerers from curses.
But then... Suguru didn't know what was right or wrong anymore.
You hugged him and calmed him down. You did everything to make him forget about what happened.
You took his negative emotions for you too. You comforted him and told him not to think like that. You convinced him to smile. To live as it was before and not think about what had to happen anyway. He could fight, but someone would still lose his life.
Luckily, it wasn't him who died...
When you managed to see Satoru smile, Suguru wasn't smiling in any way.
„Why do sorcerers have to protect people?”
"Why do we have to protect them even if they are the ones creating the curses?"
„Why can't we eliminate the source of what is killing us?"
„Why can't we erase non-sorcerers?"
The questions that were swirling around in his head also started swirling in yours.
For several months, you did everything you could to convince him.
„You may hate non-sorcerers. But they cannot be completely eliminated. This is not something possible, Suguru.”
You had some important conversations with him. And he smiled at you.
He didn't have to worry as long as there was a ray of light in such a badly damaged Jujutsu society.
Even if Haibara was a clear example of this, you are still with them.
You helped him get out of his madness. You took all those bad thoughts away from him, and that's why he could only think about your funny words.
Not seeing that by taking their honest thoughts, you were destroying yourself from the inside.
If you combine the thoughts of both of them, something will come out that may be a solution for them to never think of such a thing again.
Satoru thought about how many people were dying. He was thinking about whether he should kill the cult members. He watched death, and he killed. He himself died.
After death, you can rise and become someone else.
Satoru, who understood more after death...
And Suguru... He had complete doubts about the lives of non-sorcerers.
Killing them so that only the sorcerers remain... Or forcibly turning them into sorcerers...
You took over their thoughts and started destroying yourself. You couldn't stand it... You couldn't stand what you knew.
You started to have a different view of the world.
Panic attacks that occurred at night. The fact that you were crying while sitting on your bed. You're fighting something made by humans...
People are afraid of disasters or that, at some point, artificial intelligence will eliminate them.
But they don't know that from the very beginning of their existence in the world, they have been creating something even more dangerous. Something that's around every corner and causes death...
People could change. But they are not sorcerers who can die and then rise from the grave.
You wanted to be that docile again. Let them hug you and play with them.
But you couldn't smile.
Witches and humans... It's all black...
There is no whiteness here.
Suguru and Satoru are shades of gray.
You are a black figure in the soul. You had shades of gray, but you agreed to accept all their negative thoughts. That's why you became darker.
You are as afraid of death as anyone else. But they were right.
You killed the first non-sorcerers for no reason. Simply because they cause sorcerers to have to protect them. It is because of people that sorcerers must exist. If it weren't for people, you too would be normal, and you would live a normal life. That's why... You didn't explain yourself to anyone.
Because no one would understand anyway...
Even those whose bad thoughts you turned into yours.
You could have been meek. But docile animals also sometimes attack when they have a reason.
You didn't want them to destroy themselves with what they thought.
So you will destroy yourself for them.
You can't be their girlfriend. You couldn't choose between them. You couldn't fall in love with them because it would destroy the friendship you've had for so many years.
You will destroy yourself so that they don't have to lose what they worked for. Strength, a high place in society, their friendship, and respect.
Everyone works for themselves and for only themselves.
You work for yourself, and you want them to get their dream worlds, at the cost of your life.
Because you agree with them...
What they thought was true.
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Curse user?
Why you?
They were frozen when they heard this. You couldn't be a curse user! Not you! Of all the people around, you?!
The knowledge that you, their friend, who could be even closer, is a murderer and a curse user strikes knives in their hearts.
Their hearts were broken when you avoided them. They couldn't even find you. You escaped completely.
Even as special-grade sorcerers, they couldn't find you.
And tears came to their eyes every time they looked at your old photo.
They heard about the murders you committed. But they couldn't do anything.
They couldn't kill you.
But it was inevitable.
When no one could catch you, they were sent to kill a dangerous curse user.
Their docile kitty has changed.
But the sparkle in your eyes when you saw them didn't change.
You wanted to run away as soon as they stood in front of you.
You felt the sudden pressure of their energy pressing against yours.
You heard that they are much stronger now. These three years passed very quickly.
And in order to distract you from what was happening to you, they grew stronger. They trained.
To catch you in one move.
You didn't even feel like fighting. You felt like your body was ready to give up because it knew it had no chance.
Your waist was held in place by a strong forearm, and a large hand appeared over your mouth.
Your wrists were also grabbed.
You looked terrified at Suguru's hands that were holding you.
You jerked your body to try and get free.
They really didn't even move an inch.
"...Our kitty got claws. She's not so docile anymore." Satoru laughed, pulling you closer to his chest.
They can't kill you. They can't capture you and lead you to death.
Unless their superiors are suspicious, they will lie.
They will say they destroyed you on the spot.
In fact, you will just sit quietly at home. As a punishment, with no way out. So that you don't endanger them or you.
Suguru was even grateful to you for showing him what would happen to him if he followed that path. But he would never forgive himself for letting you die because of him.
Non-sorcerers are fools who deserve to die.
Sorcerers are crazy. And everyone has their own morality.
Suguru smiled, leaning slightly toward you.
"Satoru, claws can be trimmed. And a wild animal can be tamed and turned into a docile kitten."
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