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#endless greed
beastlyidiocy · 8 days
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sword-dad-fukuzawa · 16 days
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somno is actually so fucking awesome I think light needs to be somno-ed more. wake up to L’s dick bullying its way into his ass. blink awake because L shoved his cock down his throat. get snapped out of some pleasant dream of escape with L’s mouth around his cock. etc etc
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kushanna · 2 months
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she's not even the real deal ffs
if the beatrices always have the name of their "owner" before the title, (eva beatrice, ange beatrice) then why… is beato… just "beatrice"... when she's not the "original" beatrice either... who the fuck is that girl, where did she come from, what is she doing here, why don't we know who she is, why doesn't anyone question that, etc etc
if golden witch beatrice is simply the title of the one who possesses the gold at any given moment, then isn't kinzo... the golden witch beatrice? 🤨 wasn't that the implication when it was said that the erratic way eva behaved after becoming the witch was similar to kinzo's...? 🤨 (this is partly a joke)
i'm going to be very needlessly sentimental rn and say that this whole solving the riddle, becoming the golden witch and going batshit, becoming miserable and ruined and alone + the whole ange situation happening with Eva Specifically genuinely makes me sooo sad lmaooo. my dearest eva. rip you were so special to me before you lost your mind 💔
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kariachi · 3 months
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Sometimes you remember that all we know regarding Argit's mom is that he sold her for top dollar and that Kevin doesn't seem to hold this against him at all, instead defending his honor on the matter of whether he got a good price. We have no context for what happened there, when it happened, or why.
Just, an interesting thing.
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im so glad spotify doesn't include local files in wrapped because i could not handle the whiplash of seeing the terrible influence song at the top
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the-herdier · 4 months
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Greed, if he were to meet Dream: "You think your family of anthropomorphized concepts is terrible? Hah! Try meeting mine."
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ancicntforged · 3 months
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Rubi is funny, because aside from acquiring immortality by accident and being well over 9K+ years old, she's really just your everyday Joe. Just someone that's trying to make a living day by day and not to get killed either. It also kind of the point of her to not really change much either via character development and remain as she is.
In a way, much like Ruby, she's embodies a Flat Character Arc. Rubi is someone who remains fundamentally unchallenged unchanged throughout the story, often being the one who influences others or the world around her to change instead. She began the story with a firm set of values and beliefs, already having undergone her character development before the story began.
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whisperprime · 2 years
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Note: Archdemon from previous entries now has a name. If you get to the end of this and wonder, “Who’s Mammon?” that would be him. I’ll be editing previous entries to include the new change.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10
Hob allows himself his pity party, unfair that it is to call it that. He has been through a traumatic series of experiences and he understands the necessity of allowing himself time to recover.
In so much as recovery is ever possible after nearly a century of being tortured by a literal demon.
It likely doesn't help that he can't quite decide if staying in his friend's home for any prolonged period of time is a good or bad thing for him.
Oh, he is more than aware that you don't turn away a safe haven when you need to rebuild your life from neatly the ground up.
He's also aware that being in this house when his friend who has very much never stated they are indeed friends in this timeline is going to tear his fool heart to pieces.
The first night after Dream left, Hob had made his way back to the master bedroom, listless and restless at the same time. He'd found himself staring at the bed until his eyes burned, first from not blinking, then by the first hint of tears.
He is many things over his beloved, but he has not been brought quite this low for him.
Hob had taken the clothes from the wardrobe and set up base in the guest room downstairs. The bed didn't hold a candle to the one upstairs, but his dreams were haunted enough without the reminder of whose bed he was sleeping in.
Hob begins the arduous task of rebuilding his life in stages. It has been a very long time since he had to build it up from quite this near to from scratch.
He always had his contingency plans. They all had the emergency plan built in if he needed to disappear for a hand full of decades. Most humans that might hunt him would either have long given up or died by then, not having the same gift of a long life span like him.
He could afford to be patient when all he had was time.
A hand full of decades, though, is a very different beast than a century, though. Not the worst, but hardly the best, though.
It will be more trouble than worth to come back as a relative of who he was back during World War I. Better to start off fresh. It will be good to clear up any loose threads he might have left laying around. He is only sorry for the effects that he will have lost in the process. Some of those objects he had originally managed to hold onto, even into the 22nd century.
The best thing he has going for him is that he has already lived through this time period once before. The outside world isn't going to blindside him with technical advances. If nothing, it's going to feel a bit primitive.
But that's him getting ahead of himself.
After dragging himself out of the three day old cocoon of blankets and pillows he's made for himself, Hob feels ready to tackle the next stage of his plan: figuring out where Dream's house actually is and how much travel it will take to get him to one of his caches. Most of them are in the UK, but there are a few scattered between the United States, France, and Germany, respectively. As long as he’s not too far from any of them, it shouldn’t be too hard to get to one.
He goes out to the kitchen, grabbing himself a banana to snack on as he stares at the leather pouch that had appeared on the counter the day Dream left. He had found it along with a pantry full of food to easily last a single man several weeks, even with a generous appetite. It contains a generous amount of money, more than enough for transportation and lodging, but Hob does not want to dig into it if he doesn’t have to. His cache will be more than enough to get him back on his feet while he reestablishes himself.
There is only so much he can stand to accept. The clothes on his back, the roof over his head, the food in his belly, they are more than he could have asked for. Any money that he accepts will be only what he needs to get to his cache and to carry it with him back to London.
With a grunt, he grabs a bottle of water and then the pouch, the latter of which he stuffs into the pocket of his sweater. He finds some shoes that fit him as perfectly as everything else by the door. A key ring with a key to what must be the front door is swiped from the hook it hangs off of. He is all set to go, and yet he still lingers, a hand hovering over the door knob.
He hasn’t been outside in over a century. The thought is sort of mind boggling. Oh, he’s gotten near the windows, but he hadn’t felt like opening them just yet.
And now he’s going outside. Completely of his own free will. There is nothing keeping him here beyond the general effort it takes to open a door and walk through it.
Needless to say, he stops hesitating and near throws him outside.
He pauses on the door step, breathing in the crisp air of what appears to be either a fall or spring day. Whichever it is, he has caught it on a sunny day, and he feels no shame as he tilts his head back and lets the light of it soak in.
Humans are creatures of the light. They need it to combat fatigue, boost their mood, and to strengthen the density of their bones. Although Hob does not have to worry about the last on the list, he has felt the lingering touch of what felt like an ever lasting seasonal depression.
If it didn’t feel like it was 7­°C out, he would absolutely go sunbathing about now.
He reigns in the urge, shuts the door behind him, locks it, and then makes his way down the drive way. Halfway down the driveway, he pivots to get a good look at the house. If he’s not mistaken, it appears to be a Victorian era style house. Old enough to be from that era, from the looks of it, although effort has been made to upkeep it. Hob half expected it to be predominantly black in color, but it’s blue-grey walls and dark grey roof tiles are more color than he thinks he’s ever seen from his friend.
Not by much, but still more colorful than black.
The house isn’t secluded, but it isn’t right up on top of any other properties, either. At the end of the drive way, he glances left and then right. Neither particularly look more promising than the other, so he simply shrugs and picks a direction. He makes note of the house’s location and starts walking.
It’s not a terribly long walk, but his ankle is still smarting by the time he reaches civilization. It doesn’t take long from there to figure out where his old friend dropped him and he has to laugh a little.
His friend has property in Scotland, as it turns out. Aberdeen, to be exact.
Oh, this is not nearly as terrible as he had feared. He kind of hoped he’d be closer to London - that’s still a eight hour trip one way by train - but at least he’s still in the United Kingdom.
It’s easy enough to get his hands on some luggage. Everyone is sympathetic to the story of the traveler who’s luggage has gone missing. He thinks it helps that he’s wearing what looks like high end clothing, because nothing Dream makes can be otherwise, apparently. The cashier who rings him up regales him with a time her husband had the same thing happen and how they never did see that suitcase ever again, thank goodness nothing of true value was in it.
He parts from the shop feeling better for the pleasant chat with a friendly soul. He lingers around the shops, buying some lunch and a simple pay-as-you-go phone to tide him over until he can get one with a plan. He chats with some more friendly locals and reacquaints himself with the early 21st century.
The sun is setting by the time he drags himself back to the house. While making dinner, he considers his next move. He is tempted to remain another day. To linger in the library or hide away in the guest bedroom until he is forced to leave. The offer was made that he could stay as long as he needed.
But if he stays, he will not want to leave. And what he wants most, he will not find here.
The next morning, Hob goes through it and clean the areas he's inhabited. He saves the upstairs bed - Dream’s and, for a single night, Hob’s bed - for last, pulling the sheets off, dragging them down to the washer and dyer on the first floor. He takes them back upstairs and erases the final traces of his visit as he sets the bed back to right. He laughs at himself in self-deprecation because here he is getting worked up about a bed his friend who is not his friend has likely never even laid in.
He takes a few changes of clothes for himself, packs his necessities along with the phone and pouch of money he will have to find some way to return at some point, and leaves the house, locking the door behind him. He forces himself to walk away, never once looking back no matter how much he wishes to.
By 9:52AM, he is sat on a train on a one way trip headed for London. By 11:00PM, he has found his closest cache and a room for the night.
Over the next several months, Hob pieces together who he wants to be for the next 20 years. On paper, he becomes Robert Gadsen, 31 years old. He’s just moved to London after getting his Master of Education in Teaching and Learning in the United States. He tacks on a Bachelor of Arts in History to have an excuse to get him in the door for history classes when he applies to teach at a local college for some teaching experience.
His biggest risk, he is aware, is when he purchases the building that, in another life, had been The New Inn. 
He had not been surprised when he went looking for what had become of the White Horse Tavern and had found it completely gone. In this timeline, Hob had not been there to slow down the closure of the tavern. No one had petitioned for it to be declared a historical site, which had tied the hands of the demolition team for the better part of a decade. Eventually, Hob and his team had lost, but not before delaying things long enough that The New Inn was up and running with a sign pointing from the old meeting spot to the potential new meeting spot for Dream to find.
Because he does not want to have to dig another cache too soon, he decides to move in to the building from the first day instead of living in his own flat near by. When the Inn is up and running, he might revisit the idea of moving out, but for now, he will save money where he can.
The first day after moving in, Hob sits on the floor he has just finished sweeping and simply allows the moment to sink in. 
He does not know why he is insistent on doing this. There was no indication that Dream will meet with him in 2089, as there was no indication he even came to the 1989 meeting. This could all be for nothing.
But Hob had built The New Inn the first time on nothing more than a hope and a prayer, the offering little more than an out stretched hand should Dream ever wish to take it. And perhaps it will become that again, in this new timeline.
Most of all, it had become his lode stone, after Dream’s death in the other timeline. It was the place he returned to when the loneliness of his immortality got the best of him and he needed to reflect on why he wanted this life. He hadn’t always lived there or even near it, but knowing it was there - this place where he had once been able to be honest with who he was and how he lived - was enough.
And so, the next day, he hires a contractor and got to work. Like the first time, he is just as involved with the construction and the creation of the blue prints. The contractors are a little skeptical at first, but it helps that this time, he knows what he’s doing. Remembers what worked and hadn’t worked. It saves time, even if it takes out some of the charm of the original build.
It is six months to the day of his rescue from Burgess’ henchmen that things take another turn. 
The construction of the New Inn coming along nicely, his teaching job secured and ready to begin with the fall semester. The flat above the Inn has not received quite as much love as the pub, but it is not that far behind it. He is bone tired and he is almost asleep before his head hits the pillow.
In the time since the seal broke and his ability to dream like every other person returned, Hob has revisited the basement at Fawney Rig quite frequently in his sleeping hours. He visits it nearly as often as he does not get rescued and finds his way to the bottom of the English Channel instead.
He has tried his best to keep up his ability to lucid dream, but with the Dreaming now fully able to draw him in, he finds himself able to move around his dreams as if they are mere sets rather than events he is reenacting. He hasn’t gotten the hang of changing things, but he takes what he can get.
On this night, however, he does not open his eyes to a familiar basement with Mammon standing over his naked self, unable to escape the archdemon’s wrath for the binding circle. Nor does he find moments from being from some horrific death he will not stay dead from. Nor does he find himself moments from a dip in the water.
No, on this night, he opens his eyes to what is still that familiar basement, but instead of an angry archdemon, this one has a glass and metal sphere hanging from the ceiling. A stone walkway provides a way to cross the moot that has been built to isolate and protect a circle painted in yellow under the orb. 
Hob presses his back to the metal gate behind him and stares, horrified, because this nightmare is not based on a memory that belonged to him.
It is based on a memory that belonged to the Dream of the other timeline.
Interlude
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tedhead · 14 days
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colleen dewhurst in the price (1971) dir. fielder cook
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nbhaladhare · 6 months
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Find myself
It’s cold outside. Let’s sit beside the warmth of this burning fire. It will warm you up. Let’s talk over this cup of coffee; it will open you up. And allow me to be part of your journey for a while. Tell me your story—the story of your endless struggle, the story of a thousand battles, the story of your tussle. Let your courageous heart speak to me about the glory of your shrine. Tell…
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nmotypdfsfg · 7 months
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why can't people just live in peace, watch bl dramas, go shopping, such simple pleasures
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thatoneluckybee · 7 months
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Update several hours later the warrior cat song is still stuck in my head. It's. It's a different song this time though. My brain is cycling through them.
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doomai666 · 8 months
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greed - DALL-E
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thortank · 1 year
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heartfullofleeches · 1 month
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Wish Granter Yan who has their snobby heart that despises humans for their greed stolen by a lower income Darling who still feels bad about taking things from others after all the hand outs they've been given over the years-
This is very on brand for Beau, my asshole-ish Unicorn Yan.
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"Human...What is your first wish?"
Darling: u-um....Well, the light in my rice cooker went out the other night..It's kinda hard to tell when my rice is done because of that.... Could you fix it?
"A light? You aren't even going to wish for a new one? With my powers you could have endless fills of rice for the rest of your days."
Darling: Haha... That's way too much rice for me... Maybe my neighbors need some...
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"Human- What would you like for dinner?"
Darling: Ah- Don't worry about me... I've still got some ramen in the pantry. I've still got some eggs in the fridge for protein!
"Instant noodles again? Would you prefer a nice steak? Seafood? Anything? A simple burger?"
Darling, visibly stressed: You don't have to do all that for me... S-some ham to go with my ramen, maybe?"
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"This human....Is there something wrong with them? Why are they allowing me to live freely in their home without me having granting any of their desires? Why do I dread returning to my own home?...."
Darling: I-it's been really nice to have a guest over. It's given me a chance to try out this air mattress I got at a yard sale last week.... Is my bed comfortable enough for you?'
"You won't fool me with your tricks, human-"
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Darling: What should I have for dinner tonight.... Wha- Hey!
[The unicorn picks Reader up and places them outside of the kitchen - tying an apron around their waist as they march over to the stove]
"If you will not use my magic, then I must take your nutrition into my own hands. Even I know humans cannot survive alone on starches and junk food."
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dragonsholygrail · 1 month
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Early Sunday mornings are some of Demon Priests favorite and least favorite times of the day. Of course, on Sundays Demon Priest has to wake up early so he can get to the church and prepare for the services he's going to be holding for the morning. When he stays over at your place for the night that means somehow dragging himself out of your embrace and out of your bed.
He absolutely hates it. He would stay in bed all day with you if he could. But he knows he has to get up. Yet he can't do it without at least leaving you something.
On some tender mornings it means a gentle kiss to your lips and a soft 'see you soon.' On mornings he's trying to stall leaving you he makes an entire breakfast feast for you to wake up to. On mornings he thinks you particularly need your rest he simply leaves you a note that'll make you smile till your cheeks ache.
And on other more intimate mornings Demon Priest will groggily slip between your thighs as you sleep. Your body just as heavenly as always, pussy glistening in the faint light of a new day. As soon as the scent of your arousal washes over him, Demon Priest can't help but gorge himself on your taste. Giving into his gluttony and his greed, his tongue lapping up everything he can between your folds before he's dipping his into your tight cunt. Hitting every spot just right as his tongue swirls along your walls.
Demon Priest moans quietly, even as you start to stir awake due to the pleasures he's bestowing upon you. He's just too caught up in your pussy to focus on anything let alone think straight. Your essence sweeter than the most pertectly crafted manna or the greatest divine feast. Preferring to feast on your dripping heat instead.
He notices faintly when your moans start to join his as you wake and so he redoubles his efforts until your cries start to echo throughout the room and your release gushes into his mouth a few moments later. He desperately drinks up your essence like it’s more sacred than holy water. You whimper at the slight overstimulation, eyes fluttering open.
“Don’t leave,” you beg, a small whine in your voice. Demon Priest shushes you gently, sliding up your body till you feel his cock resting against your entrance and your hips jump, chasing it.
“Get some more sleep, sweet dove. I’ll be here next time you wake,” Demon Priest promises as he gently sinks his cock into your sensitive walls.
You cry out, slowly rocking with him as his hips roll into you slow and hard. Demon Priest leans down, whispering endless praises that leave his lips with ease. The smooth glide of his cock and his deep voice start to help lull you back to sleep.
With each deep snap of his hips you feel your pleasure heighten, your body burning with need. Even as sleep calls for you, your eyes close and you moan lowly, getting closer and closer to your peak. You whimper and squirm on Demon Priests cock before he pins you down, forcing you to feel every ounce of stimulation with no escape.
The pressure building in your tummy finally breaks free and you clench down, finishing all over Demon Priests cock. With a quiet and careful grunts he soon follows after you. Rutting his cock deep inside you as he works you both through the waves of your release.
Just as you gave yourself to the pleasure you let your body fall back into a deep sleep. Content knowing that when you wake up Demon Priest will be there, his warmth surrounding you just as it was before.
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