#OC:: Aureate

[kattenkvvaad]

loaf..... Character: Aureate (they/them)

[phantasmagoreica]

giant monster who likes to cuddle their favorite human and purrs when they do so. but then when they do it, the vibrations go straight to their human's crotch.. and now the monster suddenly catches on to the scent of arousal from their human partner

[worsesart]

Forever a part of me, I'll carry you as that lump in my throat

[absyntheartref]

"If to suffer is holy, I'll take my share of the pain. I can swim through this sadness, if there's something to gain. I can reach for the surface, and try to pull myself free. But the last thing I want is, to drag you down with me."

— Aureate (She/her) —

[primamchorus]

Aureate & Mimarrah

Some character + scenery focused screenshots I took today of a couple of the volunteers in @starlightinitiative to help get our carrd more put together. :>

[frostweaver-art]

im so tired but I draw anyway! is this the end of art block? please???? am I finally free????

[lingering-nomad]

They're gay for each other 🥰

Aureate's backstory

T'rissidil's backstory

Always feel kind of cringe posting my oc ships 😅👉👈but well, I'm what you might call a little obsessed with them, you honour.

[worsesword]

Honestly until now I haven't had experience with being so into a character/oc that I would make a shit ton of content but after years I finally get it. Nobody else knows or cares about this guy I came up with in my brain but I have to think about him and draw him every day or I die. Every day I look at the drawings I've made because I need to see my special little guy. The only problem is that I'm scared to make him too unstable because I can't write that but also I need to stop myself from making him too vanilla. And also I need to make him sillier.

[zenkori]

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 Want a commission of your character?

     ✧ ཻུ۪۪⸙🍂 Click HERE! 🍂 ཻུ۪۪⸙✧

Or come by our weekly Free Sketch Event !

═══════╡✧ ཻུ۪۪⸙🍁☯🍁 ཻུ۪۪⸙✧╞═══════ ✧ ཻུ۪۪⸙🍂 Find me on these platforms: 🍂 ཻུ۪۪⸙✧  || Tumblr || Twitter/X || Instagram ||

Or check out my sweetie @suri-chi ’s socials!   || Tumblr || Twitter/X || Instagram ||       || Her Commissions || (With art, fashion, & handmade plushies!)

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Here is a sketch of the lovely Aureate Emrys of Halicarnassus!

It was extremely, abundantly clear at a glance to me that this friendly, bubbly lady who'd happily joined my sweetheart Surichi and I at the Bismarck Umbrellas was a self-proclaimed fan of all things red, specifically Dalamud red, and it was an absolute joy to capture her image with this sketch!

I had a ton of fun sketching in her chunky braid as we all chatted away, and I found myself getting carried away with this one...

...HERE I WAS thinking I was only going to do a simple shading and line art sketch as per my usual, and yet I simply could NOT resist the allure of coloring in this sketch— I am very happy with how this one came out!!

Thank you Aureate for being our muse!!

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[fish-popsicle]

more doodlessss

[fish-popsicle]

SHAKING THE BARS OF MY CAGE SCREAMING I LOVE THIS SO MUCH ARARAGAGAGARAGAGRARATATGAGARAGARAAFARAFGAGGAGARUGEUGAGUGRGEJGAAGR

attack on @fish-popsicle featuring Princess Aureate (she/they, left) and Solar Flare (she/her, right)

[kattenkvvaad]

hey Aureate maybe you shou- [LOUD CRASHING NOISE]

Character: Aureate (they/them)

[phantasmagoreica]

greatest thing in the world is when vampires in fiction are really weirdly horny about blood

best traits to add to vampire characters: making them get hard/wet at the sight/smell/thought of blood. making it like an aphrodisiac to them, something that puts them into heat. making them touch themself to the thought of blood and viscera and carnage. making them unable to stop themselves from grinding against their human while feeding. making them lick and suck on a wound like they're giving head. making them have a hard time telling the difference between hunger and lust, eating someone and eating someone out.

"carnal" can refer to both flesh and blood, hunger, and sex after all.

[worsesart]

a bunch of aureate drawings i've made at some point, and a "good end" aureate where everything goes fine and alphys makes a robot body for him. idk about the colors because he does already have assigned colors but more neutral might be better so that he has more freedom with clothes. notes on the robot under the cut

their gender might be more ambiguous like this because not being in a body that's generally seen as male might put a bit of a delay on using non-they/them pronouns. also in this timeline there's 2 pairs of besties that consist of a skeleton and a ghost with a robot body made by alphys, which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it's happened twice. and also it's funny that mettaton is a monster that wanted a fairly human-like robot body while ori's a former human that wanted more monster-ish features.

[wishluc]

Courtship

CW: Yandere character, obsession, power imbalance, implied murder, implied stalking

PAIRING: Yandere! Childe x GN! Reader

Childe, who is desperate to earn your affection, but is unsure of how to go about it. He's fought for all the things he loves; his family, his nation, his name—yet when he raises his weapon against a bumbling fool that dared to glance at you for a moment too long, you frown and his moniker falls from your lips as a harsh, curt order.

"Master Childe," your voice is as cold as your inconsideration to his intentions, but he steps back at once, as though your utterance of his title is akin to a harsh tug on a tightly clamped leash.

He earns a familiar look of displeasure when he reaches out for his dagger, and you hide your scowl with a stiff smile when interrupting his threats against his helpless victim. You swiftly enter his line of sight and render him unable to defy, and he wonders just when you'd realize why he was doing this.

But in the next moment, he's all over you again. Smiling, teasing, his arm around you as he continues his previous story about Teucer's latest interests without missing a beat. You don't pretend to humor him for a moment longer—all under a ridiculous pretence of what you call professionalism—and he's left alone, humiliated yet entirely concerned that you'd never spare a glance his way again.

Though your rejection stings, he's persistent, and the unassuming smile on his face does not falter. He continues to try and entice you with sweet whispers and cloying words, letting his hands linger on your waist as he tells you about how much he misses you. He leans in closer when you smile back—the gesture barely perceptible to anyone else, but Childe is extremely observant— only to be stopped by your hand atop his.

"It's getting late, Master Childe. I should be heading back now," and your smile grows, radiant against the aureate light.

"Dinner first, then?"

"I prefer to spend the evenings alone."

"Let me accompany you home, at least." Your lips press into a thin line before you nod, letting him lead the way. There was no point in pretending to be unaware of how much he already knew about you.

Your conversation has onlookers whispering amongst themselves, no doubt curious to catch a glimpse of the infamous Fatuus, before scurrying off as he turns, frantically avoiding his gaze. To anyone else, the scene must have appeared to be humiliating. Perhaps they expected him to lose his temper; to strike down an unsuspecting passerby or two in an attempt at unloading some of his growing frustration. To make an example. But he does none of that.

He's no saint, of course. Disappointment swells within him, and he has had to bite back a frown more than once during your meeting. He's only better at hiding it than you. Your upfrontness leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, but it's still part of the reason he finds you so fascinating. Maybe you already know this. But you're a clever thing, despite how foolish it may be to try and provoke him. You know when to stop—right before he's completely sick of your disrespect, just as his frustration begins to peak—and reel in the demeanor to something less jarring. You're wholly aware of how cruel he can be, but also of how much power you hold over him as a result of his twisted love.

As he walks on in front of you (never too far ahead, lest the leash begin to slip from your grip), mouth set in a straight line and arms stiff by his sides, you saunter up beside him and fall into step. His hand finds its place in yours, and you take it without voicing out any complaint. It's strange for someone like him, who only knows how to want like he fights, intense and uninhibited—to be satisfied with just this simple gesture. But he stands here, placated with nothing more than a touch.

He ignores any hesitation on your part, tugging you closer until you jolt against him, and your joined hands are pressed in between your figures. He keeps you close to his side, occasionally bumping into each other as you make your way home.

It would be nice if you were so sensible more often. He has offered time and time again to take care of things in your stead. He'd eagerly bring you the head of your enemies and let you wash the blood off his hands, he'd spoil you in luxury and take only a smile in thanks; if only you wanted. Instead, you turn your nose up at him and return to the monotony of work. You brazenly claim, with nothing more than a sideway glance, that you had no need for his help. And to a certain extent, it's true. You're extremely capable. Is the way he trails after you not proof enough?

He's tried to convince you, but limp fingers cleanly removed and blood-red pearls earn him nothing more than a sigh and a mutter about impracticality. Even your initial fear at the sight of something so gruesome is quickly straightened out, though he catches wind about you investigating who they belonged to. He eagerly observes how you stop frequenting the markets after that. He may not have earned your gratitude, but you had developed a wariness he was more than happy with.

It's the last he attempts at gifting you something so morbid—though he likes to remind you that the offer will always be open—and instead sticks to trinkets you may find more use for. Rouge that he insists on applying, pressed up too close all while crooning about how well it suits you, perfumed oil he massages onto your wrists and nape with calloused fingers and delicate glass bowls to hold it all. He finds pride in knowing all his training has made his hands steady enough to carry out such intricate tasks, but your heart hasn't wavered despite his efforts and displays.

The silence, in itself, is comforting. For all he wishes to have you alone, he never knows what to say after. He thinks of nothing as much as he does you these days. Everything revolves around you. But with the quiet atmosphere, he can focus on your subtle scent, the flutter of your lashes, and the shape of your nails. If you were to be speaking, trying to remember the lilt of your voice and the underlying timbre, apart from your words and gestures, would have overwhelmed him. His desire to commit every detail to memory combined with his overzealousness would have exhausted him very quickly.

Instead, he lets himself plan. How else could he draw out more time with you? He could conjure up some reason related to your work and his, or he could stick to his usual plan of 'happening' to be around. He could insist on buying you a meal to make up for something or the other. It wouldn't be the first time he's had to think of elaborate plots to inch closer to you. Strategy in both love and war were surprisingly similar.

Or he could stop thinking so much and just take you. Who would dare try and stop him?

He'd like to have you in his arms, properly, and hold you against his firm figure. Some part of him has always craved the domesticity of such a fantasy, where you might tuck your head under his chin and smile against his skin when he greets you after a long day at work. He could do it if he wanted; take you home, and make you play pretend until it was all you knew to do. Simple signs of affection of the sort might soothe the ache of the wound festering at his side ever since he was handed over to the Fatui. But he wanted more than he deserved. More than your foolish games and his moribund attempts at playing along.

He wanted—needed—sincerity on your part.

Your steps hasten the closer he gets to your lodging, the gap between you widening until only your conjoined hands bridge it. Were you acting without regard for the consequences because you naively believed this little corner was free from his influence?

But tonight, his heart twists as you walk away. How cruel you are to him; who can only yearn.

You peek over your shoulder, mouth set in the slightest downturn as you thank him for escorting you. There's nothing genuine behind your tone, and he pretends it doesn't sting. He's spared nothing more than a blunt goodbye before you enter the building, not even glancing back.

There's always tomorrow. He'd work harder, learn more about your likes and one day...things would change.

[the-travelling-witch]

𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐋

summary: mammon might have been assigned to watch over you as the exchange student, but in return, you were assigned to watch over his gambling behaviour; a certain casino owner takes issue with that and personally sees to it that mammon's spending inhibition is thoroughly distracted

pairing: valefar (my oc) x gn!reader

warnings: manipulative behaviour, ngl you might not like val after this but trust me and trust the process jshsh

obey me! masterlist || valefar masterlist

It wasn’t a well kept secret that Mammon had taken a liking to you rather quickly. Give and take a week into your stay in the Devildom, belongings of the Avatar of Greed, like his tooth brush, cologne or charger, had taken up residence in your room, the demon himself spending every possible moment glued to your side as well. Because it was what Lucifer told him to do, of course.

Naturally, it didn’t take long for him to drag you to his favourite places around the Devildom, namely casinos. And the one he frequented most often was the infamous ‘Lion’s Share’ Casino, with its sleek and aureate exterior.

It definitely didn’t feel like the sleazy, underground places some might imagine when thinking of a casino, but rather like a luxurious establishment in Vegas. Every time you passed the impressive lion statues framing the entrance, your shoes clicked on the polished floors and you craned your neck to marvel at the dazzling chandeliers, you thought you entered another world yet again. 

As expected, Mammon was some kind of VIP around there, possibly because of his ridiculous spending habits, so the bouncers hardly glanced at either of you as you followed him through the heavy double-winged doors.

“Alright, human! Ready to be ma lucky charm again?” Mammon grinned as he ushered you in the direction of the poker tables. “A got paid real good for the last modellin’ gig, so A need ya to do yer thin’ and make me win big.”

“Remember not to go overboard, yeah? Or Lucifer is going to have both our heads,” you sighed as you flicked his biceps with your fingers. “I’m here to make sure you don’t gamble yourself into even more debt, did you forget that?”

“Yeah yeah, whatever, ya killjoy,” he nudged you before dragging you along by the wrist, just as enthusiastically as before. Perhaps because he knew you’d indulge him just a little anyway. “Now, get comfortable and watch me get a royal flush.”

Unbeknownst to the excited demon and the human rolling their eyes, someone was watching them from the highest floor overseeing the casino, amber gaze fixed on the pair taking their places at the poker table. Mammon, of course, was already well known to the observer, having been a faithful patron since the casino had taken off, but the human was a recent addition to his trips.

Obviously, he already knew the basics about them; that they were Diavolo’s precious exchange student and were currently living with those brothers. But he had also tracked how Mammon’s willingness to high-stake gambles sunk whenever they were with the Avatar of Greed.

As the owner of the Casino, Valefar simply couldn’t have that.

“I think it’s time to show our esteemed guest the exclusive VIP rooms,” he said as he swirled the amber liquid in his glass and one of his men bowed before leaving to go fetch the human. 

The hair in the back of your neck raised before you even saw the bouncer approach your table but when his black suit came into view, you could almost taste the trouble in the air. You were about to alert Mammon, though you had made sure he didn’t cheat, when the huge demon tapped your shoulder instead and gestured for you to follow him.

“Is there a problem?” Mammon asked, game momentarily forgotten as he tugged you behind him. “If ya wanna talk to the human, ya gotta hafta talk to me too, ya know.”

“No,” the bouncer’s gruff voice scratched the air, “only the human. Boss’s orders.”

“A-Ah from the boss, ya say?” Your companion’s tone changed as he rubbed his neck. “Well, he knows not ta try anythin’ funny if he doesn’t want Lucifer and Diavolo breathin’ down his neck. Don’t keep the man waitin’ then.”

And with that, Mammon stepped to the side and ushered you to follow the security demon, not so discreetly ignoring the unimpressed glare you sent him. You were well aware he was indebted to the casino, so of course he’d fold like a house of cards the second its boss requested something of him, if only to not make his situation worse.

A very silent elevator ride later, you entered a dimly lit lounge area void of any customers. The long side of the room was entirely made of glass, making you guess it was the black one-way window front visible from the casino area. There, in a lounge chair, sat a demon, his arms resting on the sides of the chair as if he owned the place. You almost didn’t see him in his black suit against the dark background if the ice clinking in his glass didn’t give him away.

“Good evening, how are you enjoying your time at the Lion’s Share so far?” Elegantly, like a large cat, the man lifted himself out of his seat, leaving his drink on a table and straightening out his suit. As he rounded the table to approach you, he smoothly pulled one of his leather gloves off before holding out his hand to you. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. My name is Valefar, the owner of this humble casino.”

Startled by his bright amber eyes sparkling down on you, you shook his hand as if in trance and stammered your name. You didn’t know what you had expected when the casino boss was mentioned but probably not to be greeted by a tall, handsome man, with flawless tan skin and black hair swept back lazily. Golden piercings gleamed in the ambient light as he cocked his head to the side while studying you before revealing a fanged smile.

“I’ve heard much about you already,” Valefar said, voice velvety as he guided you to take a seat with a hand lightly gracing the dip of your back. “Only positive, of course. You’ll forgive me for wanting to meet you in person, won’t you?”

“Oh uhm- Sure, though I’m not sure I’m all that great,” you nervously laughed as he sat down opposite of you. 

“I’d beg to differ,” Valefar chuckled. “You know, I have an eye for all things valuable and you managed to pique my interest, so there has to be more to you than you give yourself credit for. Care for a drink?”

You were happy he switched the topic himself because your cheeks felt like they were set ablaze. “Only water for me please.”

“Not a fan of demonus, huh? I personally think you’re missing out but suit yourself.” As one of the staff set your respective drinks down in front of you, he whispered something to his boss, whose lips curved up at corners with a glance out of the window. Seemingly out of nowhere, he pulled a deck of cards as his attention landed back on you. “I noticed you seem to linger around the poker table whenever you’re here. Up for a friendly game?”

You halted. He’d been paying close enough attention to you to notice that? 

“It’s mostly Mammon who plays,” you said quietly. Thinking of your impulsive companion, you remembered your agreement with Lucifer, as much as you wanted to spend a bit more time with your new acquaintance. “Speaking of, I think I shouldn’t take up anymore of your precious time and return to the table.”

“Oh please,” Valefar’s voice soothed your troubles, “He is in great hands and I’d be more than happy to enjoy your company for a while longer. But if the feeling isn’t mutual, you’re free to return any time, of course.”

“If that’s so…” you contemplated for a few seconds, a little reluctant to leave this tranquil atmosphere. Besides, Valefar had been nothing but nice to you, where was the harm in staying a little longer? “Perhaps, it wouldn’t be so bad…”

“Splendid,” the demon beamed as he shuffled the cards. “I trust you know the rules?”

After playing a few rounds you were surprised to find the overall results to be tipped in your favour, winning slightly more often than losing. Maybe Satan had been right when he told you people favoured by Mammon found themselves to be more lucky?

“Wow,” Valefar chuckled as you dropped your cards on the table, winning another round. “You’re pretty skilled. I guess it’s my luck you’ve not taken up gambling at my casino in earnest.”

“I think I’m just lucky today,” you showed him a shy smile. “Playing cards is one thing but actually betting on it is entirely different.”

“You’re right, of course,” Valefar agreed. “But the rush you can get from winning big is entirely different as well. Not only knowing that you’ve won, but also seeing the look on the loser's face when you get your hands on what they wanted too. It’s quite the feeling.”

“Spoken like a true demon,” you laughed as you allowed yourself to let your gaze sweep over his well-built body again. Whoever tailored those suits for him knew what they were doing. 

“I can’t help myself, it’s in my nature after all,” he laughed easily. “You know, for a greed demon, claiming something that another demon also desires makes having it even sweeter. Places like this just encourage that feeling, that need.”

You swallowed at the husky tone his voice had taken on. Paired with the way his eyes were nearly blazing, resembling pools of molten gold as he looked at you, you had a feeling he wasn’t necessarily talking about money. 

“What do you mean with ‘places like this’?” Your voice came out thick as you tried to control the pounding of your heart, the parlour below long since forgotten.

“It’s a casino, sweetheart,” Valefar whispered, leaning forward in his seat a little. It was enough to have you unconsciously mirror him. “Sin is in the name.”

There wasn’t much you could say in return, only looking back at him with wide eyes and slightly parted lips. Asmo had once told you demons resonated with places that encouraged their own sin and where else but a casino would greed reign supreme?

Valefar pulled you out of your thoughts with a contemplative hum. “Normally I don’t gamble while working but I feel like spicing up the night a little. What do you say we add some stakes to our little game?”

“Stakes?” You blinked at him, a little surprised. “I don’t have money or anything of worth on me though.”

“Oh no no, I wasn’t talking about money. I understand of course that your funds as an exchange student are rather… tight,” he smiled that charming smile of his. “So, won’t you at least hear my proposal? You could be passing up the opportunity of a lifetime after all.”

Somewhere, in the far part of your brain, a quiet voice warned you not to accept. This was a demon you were dealing with, there was no way he wouldn’t propose something that wasn’t beneficial to him. But there was no harm in hearing him out, right?

“Alright,” you acquiesced, your mind clouded by his heavy gaze on you and his cologne invading your senses, “let’s hear it then.”

“If you win,” his lips curled up at the corners, “I will consider all of Mammon’s debt to be paid.”

You choked on air at his statement. All of Mammon’s debt? You didn’t even dare imagine how many zeroes that number had attached and that fact alone made you pause. A greed demon like Valefar would not willingly give up a sum of that magnitude, so you shuddered to think about his next answer. “And if you win?”

“If I win,” he drawled, pausing either for dramatic effect or just to make you squirm in your seat a little (or perhaps both), “then you will spend an evening with me.”

“Spend an evening?” You were glad you hadn’t taken a sip of water after your little coughing fit or you might have done a spit take.

“Oh please, little lamb, where are your thoughts?” Valefar chuckled and the sound, as beautiful as it was, didn’t calm your nerves. “I was talking about dinner. We eat, we drink, we talk and see where the evening goes. Perhaps we can even consider what you had in mind.”

“I know what dinner is, thank you, I was just surprised,” you said before clearing your throat. Was he about to risk that much Grimm for a chance to take you out, basically?

“Excellent, so what do you say? Sounds fair, doesn’t it? Do we have a deal?” The way he tilted his head looked as innocent as it was deadly and when you didn’t outright refuse him, his smile revealed his sharp fangs. He knew he had won. “Come on, you can really only win here. Chances as favourable as these don’t come often.”

“Fine,” you agreed despite your gut feeling telling you otherwise.

“It’s a deal then,” Valefar concluded and held out his hand for you to take. With one glance out of the window revealing Mammon to be dangerously low on chips, you shook it…

…and shortly thereafter lost. By a landslide. 

“Oh dear, looks like the cards were in my favour this round,” the demon grinned, not a hint of remorse in sight. “I guess this concludes our little game… unless you feel like going double or nothing?”

Really, you should have seen this coming, you scolded yourself. Of course you hadn’t managed to win on dumb luck alone, not against someone like Valefar, who probably knew exactly how to play his cards right, literally. This was the exact reason people always warned you not to deal with the devil. After all, the house always won. 

“No, I think we should leave it at this. I know when I’ve lost,” you sighed, much to the amusement of the man in front of you. “Say, Valefar, why are you doing this? You could’ve asked for anything else.”

“Have you considered that I don’t want anything else?” His gaze was heavy on you, burning like coals when you met it and your blood seemingly heating up in return. Suddenly, you felt a strong sympathy for the lamb trapped by the lion.

“But.. why me? I mean,” you gestured to him and to your surroundings, “you could’ve asked anyone.”

“Do you really think I’d be satisfied with just ‘anyone’?” Valefar raised a perfectly-groomed eyebrow and mirrored your gesture. If it wasn’ t so obvious what he was implying, you would’ve kicked yourself for assuming someone would think this highly of you. Instead, your heart nearly jumped out of your throat. Then, however, he sighed and it dropped to your gut. “Well, if you really feel going on a single date with me is that repulsive, it cannot be helped–”

“No!” You surprised yourself with the steadiness and conviction in your voice, clearing your throat as you leaned back again. “No, that wasn’t what I was trying to say. I just didn’t think I was that interesting.” 

“Sweetheart, I told you I have an eye for that sort of thing,” he winked with one corner of his lips lifted as mirth danced in his bright eyes. Watching him comb through his dark hair with his fingers and leaving it slightly tousled, you thought you might actually have won your little bet. No way going out with someone like him could be considered a loss. Then, your gaze fell on his golden watch and something in your brain stirred.

“Oh shit!” Scrambling for your DDD, adrenaline shot through your veins when you saw the time. Lucifer was going to have your head for real. “I’m really sorry, but I have to go. I’d love to talk more–”

“-- but you’re being expected at home, I’d assume,” Valefar easily guessed. Rising from his seat, he offered his hand to you and promptly linked your arms when you gingerly took it, his warmth enveloping you even through the thick material of his suit. “Let me escort you to the door. It’s the least I can do after keeping you to myself for so long.”

When you stepped out of the elevator, you were already met with Mammon, who was arguing with one of the bouncers, tapping his foot impatiently. The Avatar of Greed didn’t notice you approaching, still guided by the casino owner, until said demon spoke up.

“Mammon, my friend, what a pleasure to see you tonight,” Valefar’s smooth voice passed the entrance area. Despite his friendly tone, Mammon tensed up at the sound. “I hear you’ve been wracking up quite the bill again, hm? Not to worry though, if you win big next time, it’ll be easy enough to settle.”

“Val, buddy–” At Mammon’s shaky voice you found it hard to believe he was the actual Avatar of Sin in this situation; the roles might as well be reversed at this point. “It’s nice ta see y– HEY WHY’RE YA SO CLOSE TO THE HUMAN? Ya need ta back up!”

“Hm? Oh this?” Valefar asked innocently, slightly lifting your still intertwined arms for emphasis. “Ah, I thought I might as well practise and get comfortable with this for when our actual date rolls around, isn’t that right sweetheart?”

You did not get the chance to respond.

“Date?! SWEETHEART?!” You weren’t sure what was more likely, Mammon popping a vein or him hitting something incredibly expensive as he flusteredly gestured with his hands. “Just what do ya think yer playin’ at here?”

“I’m not playing at anything,” the demon by your side appeased. “Asking someone out isn’t forbidden, is it? It’s not like you asked them out, did you?”

“Ah, n-no– A didn’t–”

“Well, then I don’t see where the problem is,” Valefar smiled his gorgeous smile as Mammon’s face fell. The former didn’t seem to pay him much attention though as he turned to you instead. “Again, it was a pleasure to finally meet you and I’m looking forward to learning more about you when it’s just the two of us. Don’t worry about the details, I’ll let you know when the  date is set. For now, please make sure to have a safe trip home.”

As he uncurled his arm from yours, his gloved hand lingered on yours and he gave it a fond squeeze. It distracted you from his other hand reaching up to gently caress the side of your face, his eyes tracing the movement of his thumb over your cheekbone. There wasn’t much time for you to savour the feeling or think about what to say, merely able to hastily wish him a good night as Mammon already dragged you out of the casino and onto the streets of the Devildom, bickering with you the entire way back to the House of Lamentation.

Back in the privacy of his room, Valefar stretched and cracked his neck both ways before letting out a sigh. Pouring himself another drink, he bid his assistant in as they knocked. “So, what’s the result?”

“Mammon lost double the amount compared to when the human was with him,” the shorter demon responded as Valefar took the report detailing his favourite customer’s spending and humming in contentment at the numbers. “Sir, if I may ask, was it really necessary to go this far? Distracting them is one thing but taking them out–”

“Hm? Oh that,” the demon nonchalantly acknowledged as he flicked some lint off his black suit. “The casino can run one night without me. But if I choose a time where Mammon normally comes in, we can get him alone again and you know what that means.

“Besides,the little lamb doesn’t gamble,” Valefar added, swirling the liquid in his glass. “So even if their little heart were to break, we’re not losing out on profit. On the contrary, the chances that they stay away from the Lion’s Share rise significantly, leaving the Avatar of Greed with no one to control his spending.”

On top of that, he hadn’t been lying when he said getting his hands on something someone else coveted always felt more exhilarating than simply winning the jackpot himself. Recalling the look on the other demon’s face, Valefar couldn’t hold back the grin splitting his lips.  

“The house wins.”

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