#get wrecked Solomon!

[lovebugdotcom]

I need immortality so that this dude doesn’t have to be alone ever again. NOW.

[miki-13]

I was invested with the idea of Stolas working for Blitz on a more level playing field after losing Octavia and his privilege.

I never would have imagined that Stolas would lose literally everything, including his powers.

Adding in his performance made him not only a noble outcast but a social outcast in every way.

It still shakes me to my fucking core that this happened while Blitz was celebrated as a hero and getting what he was working towards after so long.

I'm already imagining so many parallels to their season 1 dynamic in season 3, but the script flipped so utterly alongside character development.

Stolas tries to do sex with Blitz as payment for sheltering him, and Blitz does his best to assure Stolas it's not like that but also falls into a similar role with being the one in power while Stolas has nothing to give but himself. (Nepotism if/when Stolas works for him, potentially falling into classism stereotypes himself)

Stolas dealing with the racism and classism and everything he had always been shielded from up close and personal. I was already invested in this situation, but the drama of Stolas without his powers to protect himself and currently the lowest being in hell social wise... (shivers while grinning evilly) - On that note, Stolas is about to get his wish for Blitz being his bodyguard/knight in shining armor in the worst way possible. In a way where he feels utterly useless in being protected, but his own nature prevents him from fighting because of Actual Canon from The Lessar Key Of Solomon.

(Which already fits with what we've seen of Stolas' characterization in-series. He doesn't directly fight either: he intimidates, he shields, he parries, and he escapes.)

Stolas defintiely getting verbal abuse from the hellborn, including catcalls, getting called "pretty bird" and often insinuated to only to working for Blitz because he's hot. This wrecks his self-esteem even more. (Imagining Blitz calling him "pretty bird" affectionately only for Stolas to lash out lives in my head rent-free)

Feel free to add more in reblogs and notes!

[animeniac-writings]

The Seven Deadly Sins And The Common Cold

Getting sick at the HoL and sending almost everyone you know into sheer panic.

You're laying in bed feeling like shit trying to sleep off a cold, sweaty and clammy and moaning trying to get comfortable, unaware of the many fretting around you.

Demons hardly get sick, and with everything in Devildom that's already dangerous for humans, medicine they'd have would surely kill you.

Solomon is far less helpful than any suspected, also concerned that you will now die. As much as he frequents the human realm, relatively up to date on the world and trends and a good amount of media and fashion, he hasn't paid that much attention to medical advances in the last few hundred years.

Satan is the only one who MIGHT have semi-useful knowledge from some caring-for-your-sick-lover trope stories he's read.

Belphie is in a deep sleep with one wrist around your ankle, laying at the foot of your bed and determined to will you good dreams in your 'last moments'.

Asmo cries because he truly notices how much your sickness has effected you, anyone can see you're sick but he pays such close attention, with spa days and finding the best products and applying them himself, to seeing how miserable and unhealthy your are he is distraught. He does his best to try and make you more comfortable, and tearfully demands Solomon do something.

Mammon has gone to beg the witches to save your life, he'll owe them whatever they wish if they will help you (luckily he gets a call to come home before he signs his immortal life away)

Beel wants you to eat, he always makes sure you have enough, and this morning he was worried from the start when you told him there was no way you could stomach anything.

Lucifer has given up trying to calm everyone else down and called Diavolo about your state, admitting failure on his lack of knowledge already a feat and anyone can see how affected he is by his disheveled appearance and how frequently he goes to your room to check in on you.

Diavolo is worried as soon as he hears you're sick, and the well concealed strain to Lucifer's tone when he tries to sound level listing what ailments he can tell. Another demon advisor points out how terrible it would be for the program if their human were to die, and he glares at them with hellfire's fury in his eyes. He's concerned for you, and would be heartbroken if anything happened, he will visit you as soon as he can.

Barbatos calms his worries and tells him you will be fine, he had picked up some human realm remedies in advance for when the time came and will take you a special blend of safe and effective tea. If he couldn't see the future, he would be much more worried. Though he still feels guilty you have to suffer through it.

Levi is a wreck. He blames himself, he blames everyone else, if you had just stayed in, stayed in his room especially, this never would have happened. You never would have went out and got sick- he spends much of the time in his tank for comfort and pleading with Henry 2.0 that you don't die. It doesn't help that you rejected his offer to watch anime with him this morning- despite the look on his face you just couldn't accept.

Solomon at least has the hindsight to bring the angels in on this. Even with similarly lacking knowledge on human sickness, they are known for healing abilities even if that's not their specialty.

They arrive as soon as they're contacted, Luke with tears in his eyes and hugging your stomach tightly as soon as he reaches your bed.

Satan is already there, having woke you and forcing you to stay awake long enough for him to spoon feed you some of the (slightly questionable) Devildom equivalent of "chicken" soup he made. It smelled delicious, and not at all like chicken soup, was slightly purple and would be very tasty, yet you're woefully unable to discern either of those.

Simeon, though not adept in it, gives you a healing blessing. The moment his lips touch you overheated forehead you breathe a sigh at the bit of relief he brings. Your sore throat eases, the congestion in your chest lessens, and the migraine dissipates at his touch. You take a deep breath (through both nostrils!) and nearly ask for him to do it again.

But you're exhausted, significantly relieved, and the call to sleep fueled by Belphie's touch pulls at you, unable to resist.

You vaguely register Mammon bursting through your door in the last moments before you drift to sleep, he's hushed by Asmo who busies himself changing the cool rag on your forehead and trying not to bite his nails. Luke quietly asks Simeon to teach him how to heal like that, and makes him assure you will be better soon.

And you finally receive some well needed, actual rest. Despite some of their shortcomings on the matter, you have so many that love and care for you making sure you will be better, and have many a caretaker prepared to tear apart the realms for you if need be.

[suzukiblu]

Thank-you sentences for u-h-h-g-h behind the cut; Billy adopts Conner and it actually goes pretty good! (( chrono || non-chrono ))

. . . wait, actually, is he gonna have to start reading biographies and historical stuff? He’s a dad now. The other dads are gonna expect him to know stuff about the Civil War and World War II and, like, lawnmowers and how to grill, aren’t they. His dad didn’t even grill, Mom did! Dad always got distracted by his book or something and let the hot dogs burn! 

Billy is not optimistic about his capacity to mow a lawn, though at least they’re in an apartment. Like–probably somebody handles that, right? That’s gotta be a thing, doesn’t it? 

. . . he should check with Batman about that, maybe. 

. . . . . . and also figure out what the wisdom of Solomon knows about how grilling works. 

Or, uh–work on the focus thing, maybe. Definitely the focus thing. It’s just–it all feels like so much, and Billy doesn’t wanna mess up and wreck Lynn’s whole entire life and make him miserable forever or ever make him feel like any of those foster “families” and social workers ever made him and just about all the other kids he knew in the system feel or– 

Billy wonders if he could maybe find a god to talk to about asking to borrow, like, the forethought of Apollo or the precision of Arachne or the strategy of Ariadne or something sometime (though definitely not the concentration of Atalanta, because one golden apple and he’d be right back where he started). Like if he could maybe swap it out with the stamina of Atlas or the courage of Achilles when he needs to, that’s all. Just when it’s, like, situationally useful or whatever. 

. . . he’s really not doing a good job with this focus thing at all, yeah. Which he’s pretty sure he’s thought a few times now already, too, just–

He’s just really nervous, still. He’s really glad Lynn doesn’t hate him or think he’s lame, but he could still totally do something that’d make Lynn hate him or think he’s lame and–

Focus. 

“Want me to serve?” Billy offers, pointing at the plates. “I mean I know I don’t know how much you need to eat yet, but neither do you, and I’ve seen a lot more people eat than you have, sooo . . .” 

“. . . you’ve seen Superman eat?” Lynn asks, looking–uncomfortable, briefly, and looking down at the plates in his hands. Billy’s gonna have to start finding stuff for him to look at instead of people, he’s pretty sure. Like, little puzzles Lynn can be messing around with or little crafts he can be doing or something, so people just figure that’s why he’s not making eye contact with them and not, like, him being antisocial or something. 

“Oh, yeah, tons of times,” Billy says, since that’s a valid question and all, considering actually the way big majority of the people he’s seen eat were human and Lynn is actually not, so actually that might not be helpful anyway. Superman’s diet would be way more useful to know about. But the problem there is–“But like, I don’t ever really know if he really needs to be eating or if he’s just doing it to be polite? ‘Cuz I do that sometimes, definitely. But also sometimes it’s just ‘cuz something looks good? So yeah, I dunno. I’ll have to ask him when I get a chance, maybe I can catch him after the next League meeting. Or I guess I could email him, I guess that’s a thing . . .” 

He doesn’t really use his League email or messaging accounts or anything like that, like, basically ever, but Batman did give them the phones and all, so he’s not gonna have to go to the library to do it anymore, sooooo . . . 

Lynn doesn’t say anything; just keeps his eyes down and on the plates he’s still holding. Billy tries not to frown. Lynn doesn’t talk much or make eye contact all that much, so far, so it’s not like it’s new. Just–he doesn’t know, really. He’s still got this weird feeling like something’s wrong, all of a sudden. 

[yes-i-write-fanfiction]

Below is why I think these bots would be fun to see;

-Knockout would become a famous model and Breakdown would be his bodyguard. I just think it would be funny to see Knockout caught up in a rogue attack and go absolutely apeshit on some poor goon that accidentally stained his 5 000 dollar designer jacket. Breakdown has to pull him of the poor man like "Babe, babe, it's ok, we'll get you a new jacket. How about a nice new suit too? That sound good?" Meanwhile the goon is fucking traumatized.

-Wreck Gar sees that Gotham is covered in trash and makes it his own personal mission to collect all of it and create his own trash kingdom. Gotham's streets have never been cleaner.

-I just want to see Kup train the batfam. And act old with Alfred. Perhaps save one of the vigilantes after they get captured, using nothing but his holoform, a bottle of liquor, a stun gun and guerilla tactics.

-You look me in the eyes and tell me Tarantulas wouldn't fit right in in Gotham. His freaky ass belongs there. He would sneak into Arkham to observe the patients, just for fun. Maybe terrorize them a little. "Doctor, the spider talks to me!" "Sure pal, of course it does. Did you take your medicine today?"

-Thundercracker becomes a best selling author in Gotham by writing about his experiences in the war (everyone thinks its just a very detailed fictional world). Jason gets absolutely hooked on the series and meets him one day while Thundercracker is out walking Buster. Jason promptly nerds out.

-Just full on pandemonium with the Scavengers. Krok tries to organize them so they can find a way back home but these idiots keep going on side quests. They were supposed to steal some Wayne tech? Sorry, Misfire got caught up in a riddle contest with the Riddler and Spinister is having a BBQ with Solomon Grundy.

-Airachnid becomes a serial killer/hitman in Gotham and quickly earns a reputation as a brutal and efficient killer. Not really that funny but a lot of potential for drama. She sets her eyes on her newest hit; Bruce Wayne.

-Swindle is fucking living life in Gotham, selling repurposed cybertronian tech to rogues. Not even necessarily weapons, just random pieces of regular cybertronian tools, like bottle cap openers that get repurposed into actual weapons by the criminals. Well, now he's on the batfam's watch list and has go into hiding.

-Ok, listen, First Aid is a freak. A well meaning freak but a freak nonetheless. So when he finds a vigilante bleeding out in an alleyway, of course he's gonna help them! But not before taking a picture of their wound and sampling their blood. Not for nefarious purposes! He just thinks it's interesting. But now the batfam tries he's going to try and clone them.

-All the rogues and vigilantes of Gotham band together to stop Shockwave. He's just trying to make his way home but his experiments and casual disregard for human life makes him such a threat that even sworn enemies have to put their differences aside if they want to survive.

-Predaking befriends Cass and she doesn't tell the batfam cause this is her alien friend and they've already got their own (Batman&Superman, Nightwing&Starfire, Red Hood&Bizarro, Red Robin&Super Boy, Robin&the other Super Boy etc.). Of course Robin eventually finds out and he's so mad cause that's a robot/alien/dragon! She can't just keep him to herself! That's so selfish of her! Meanwhile, Predaking is like "Where the fuck am I?"

[elaemae]

The premium version of human is here to wreck house, mfs.

[Twst x Obeyme!AFAB!reader]

CHP. 1.1: The start of the Blood Rose Tyrant.

Thank you, my amazing readers, for all the likes, comments, and reblogs🥹 It makes so happy, like– almost nothing can top the joy of seeing y'all liked my work :)

Btw, If you have any questions about my tagging and/or literally anything you wanna ask me bout the fic, just reach out to me and I'll try my best to answer you.😊

CW: Cursing, Idk what else... There's also the pronoun schtick I've been yapping about since pr. 1. (i.e MC will get mistaken for a pretty guy a lot -Mc is AFAB referred to as they/them- because the NRC cast have come to expect only boys to be in the school. Excluding the paintings ofc.)

(My pic)

Fun fact: While all of your ornaments act as containers to very *nom*-able amounts of magic, such a thing can be dangerous as it may give away your location if you need to hide or run away from someone.

Therefore, all of them were cast with a special spell developed by Solomon that makes it so that people can't sense that magic unless they're really close to you physically.

(Not to mention, only exceptional mages can actually have the hope of picking up on that magic as your all jewelry were also cast with a heavy magical concealment blessing from both Micheal and Luke.)

• • •

'What the hell is this?'

You think as you fiddled with the fancy pouch in your hands.

You had opened the gift box to find the pouch containing some basic skincare products and just went; ( •_•)..?

Like– What the hell? Who does that?? Are they saying that you're ugly and needed to start taking care of your face?! Well excuse you, I'll have you know –whomever you are– that this face was approved by Asmodeus himself you rude lil' shi—

*Ehem*

So like any sane person is supposed to do in that situation, you checked if the products were cursed or charmed and then pocketed it to maybe sell it in the future for some cash. (Lovely gift but you were taught never to use/ingest things given to you by strangers.)

Leaving the infirmary, you venture into the botanical garden, hoping you'd find some edible plants that you and Yuu can nibble on until you can procure other food options and some all important moneh. (Ugh, if only that damn crow didn't escape and hide away from you, you would've extorted his cowardly-ass and bought some food instead of needing to resort to this bs.)

'Trying to find a stone in a long abandoned mine is simply a fools errand.'

You thought as you absent-mindedly skipped past a certain tall, dark, and handsome man with horns, unknowing of the look of pure curiosity pointed at your back as you continued your musings.

'But oh well, they wanted to try so they might as well be those fools.'

You're not gonna stop them if they wanna try to fix things even though you've mostly stabilized the situation. (Not that they know.)

Damn, you also need to go to the library later so that you can learn what changes you'd need to do in order to adapt and know the problems you'd likely experience in this world.

Knowing yourself and your history for being a magnet of chaos, It'd probably involve almost dying more times than you have fingers and unearthing some deeply-buried soul-crushing trauma in which the only thing you'll get in return are the friends you've made along the way.

Aside from that though, you'd need to gain yourself a foothold in this society.

Preferably, there would be a lot of rich and influential people in this school to suck up to, but if those aren't enough then maybe you can venture into industries where you can kiss-ass in peace.

As much as you'd love to be optimistic, Crowley is the almost literal embodiment of a dead-beat dad barely pays child-support and your own search for a way home may take years before coming to fruition.

Tsk. You can feel your stress levels transcending the mortal plane of existence again as you can already envision the figurative mountain-range you'd need to climb just to achieve stability in this place.

$°\•m°n.. p/€∆$3.. H€\₱ m£...

Times like these just make you wanna curl up onto the floor in a fetal position and let the earth consume you whole.

Oh! And you also need to obtain a stronger blackmail material against Crowley to make sure he won't try anything remotely against you.

'Hmm... But maybe...'

You think as you took a quick and discreet glance to a security camera that had been "coincidentally" pointed at you.

Well, not really a coincidence.

If the mf behind these creepy-ass cameras —that have been watching you since your arrival here, mind you—, can lend you a hand then that would be the optimal outcome. There are a lot of security cameras after all...

Though there's also a large possibility that the fucker wanted you dead because of either boredom, simple bloodlust, money, vengeance (for some reason), your organs or all of the above.

You sighed as you entered the botanical garden, telling yourself to just worry about that later and focus on finding food.

If you get in trouble for taking plants here, you'll just throw Crowley under the bus. (figuratively and literally if he decides to be a bitch about it.)

• • • •

Yuu, Grim, Ace, and Deuce stumbled out of the mirror, finally away from the creepy forest and back into the college.

They all flinched and turned their heads back when they heard a dramatic 'Tsktsktsk–' from behind them.

"Well well well~ Look who finally decided to show up at–"

*checks imaginary wrist watch*

"46 minutes past midnight.. Huh.. If you all got any curfew for your dorms then you're both toast. Can't believe y'all spent more than five hours looking for a single rock..."

You said, referring to the two first years who flinched under your words and judgemental eyes.

"You all look like shit by the way."

Yuu awkwardly scratched their head.

"Thanks?"

*Sigh...*

"You're welcome, bbg."

"Just hurry up and give that rock to the fuckin crow already so that you all can spare the world from having to witness anymore of your gross, sweaty, homeless-lookin selves."

Deuce shrunk even further behind Yuu. (funny because Yuu was at least half-a-head shorter.)

Ace meanwhile, has too much ego to not say anything back.

"We wouldn't be looking like this if you at least helped!" He snarked.

"Why should I?"

You Dwayne-the-rock-Johnson raised your eyebrow at him.

"I don't owe any of you a smidgen of literally anything so why should I help?"

It wasn't a question, but a statement. Because why should you help? They should be grateful you even talked Crowley out of expelling them immediately. Not that they know but still...

But of course, audacity is gonna audacity. Because, Ace really had the nerve to look offended by your words, as if you weren't saying something as truthful as the sky being blue, the grass being green, and your ass being a literal masterpiece from god.

"Don't even try to pass off the blame, Weasley-wannabe. I know it, you know it, your mom knows it, your dad if you have one, your entire bloodline and your non-existent cow knows it, there's literally no point."

Ace literally almost snarled at you like a damn dog, pft– That's what he gets from pissing you off by existing earlier.

"Oh shut up!"

He then looked like he was about to start a rant of how unfair his life was and how he totally didn't deserve any of this and blahblahblahblahblah–

You swear on Diavolo and Luci's fruity man-boobs, you'll hang this bitch upside down like a bat if you had to hear another complaint about things being unfair for him.

What about you? or Yuu? Isn't life more cruel and unfair to you two? Taking you both away from loved ones and shoving you into a world where you two need to fight for a temporary sanctuary as you both try to go home with no real proof you'll actually be able to make it back?

Isn't life more unfair to you? Right when you almost finally achieved the start of your happy ending.. You were taken away from the people that you fought tooth and nail to be with.. And now, they're all too far away for you to reach... again.

Deuce elbowed Ace, thankfully making the jab to the ribs painful for the annoying ginger.

You dramatically sighed again, turning to Yuu and Deuce.

"Remember kids, don't copy Ace's attitude okay? Lest you want to end up single and with no bitches for the rest of your life."

Ace's right eye twitched erratically, shouting at you to shut up and to stop messing with him.

• • • • •

Talking with the crow is an annoying affair as expected. At least now, Yuu is finally an official learner of the school. Even if they're just half-a-student with the loud talking cat. (That kinda reminds you of Mammon, now that you think of it. Also very funny because the cat's name is grim of all things..)

Oh, and you're a prefect now. You're definitely going to make that everyone's problem. Hehehehehe~

"So the abandoned dorm we were supposed to live in is fixed now? How? Hasn't it only been like– a day?"

You ominously beamed at the question, releasing a sinister little giggle that caused Ace, Deuce, and the now wide-awake Grim to subconsciously shiver while Yuu refrained from asking further questions and just wisely snickered instead.

Unseen by everyone, you sent a quick devious little smile to a wall where a certain electrical device was mounted, biting down a snort when you saw the security camera suddenly snap into another direction, as if it was a person embarrassed that they got caught by someone they were staring at.

You then had to hold back a cackle as you remembered how easily this newly made stalker friend of yours snitched on the headmaster, like– you literally didn't even do anything, the flustered boy just gave you the blackmail material that you needed. Well, maybe you did corner him a little bit by using his own electronics against him but you're pretty sure he enjoyed it for some reason if the way he literally blurted out 'mommy-' at you was anything to go by—

Haha, the benefits of having a hacker as a fren :3

• • • •

Kicking away the two idiots and telling them to go back to their dorms already, you dragged Yuu inside the now newly fixed dorm.

The two of you needed to talk about a few things and arrangements..

• • • •

Quickly opening the door in hopes that the fucker that was banging on it gets mash-dabbed face-first, you saw nothing but disappointment as the bastard — Ace — had actually moved away from the door in an impressive display of intuition and spidey-sense before you had even wretched the door open.

"What the fuck do you want, you ugly punyeta?"

It hasn't even been a few hours since this mf parted ways with you and Yuu, so what could be the problem now?

. .. . . . . ..

"No, you're sleeping on the couch."

"What?! But why?!! There are perfectly good rooms here!"

"All the other rooms besides the one we're using are still unfurnished. The beds in them are yet to be assembled and the floors are dusty because of the quick renovations." Yuu stated, rubbing the bridge of their nose.

"Ughhhhh! Just let me squeeze in, I promise I won't take up too much space!"

"Nice try but no."

"Tch, You're all so stingy and inhospitable.."

"Yuu, Do you hear that?" You said, theatrically cupping your ear with a hand.

"Yes, It seems that a forever virgin is talking." Yuu answered with a smirk.

"Hey!"

"Sorry, you oompa-loompa lookin ass— we unfortunately can't understand the language of people who can't pull."

"You guys are the worst."

"Thanks bbg." you and Yuu paused.

"Pft–"

"Oh dear~ It seems you're starting to take after me."

"Indeed it seems." Yuu replied, even subconsciously copying the fancy accent you used.

"Oh no, you're multiplying. :0"

"Haha, we're still dragging you to apologize to your Housewarden later."

"Aww shucks.."

← Pr.7 | Chapter List | Chp. 1.2 →

Thanks for reading this far, my amazing readers ＼⁠(⁠^⁠o⁠^⁠)⁠／

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Taglist;

@f0uerleafedcl0ver @a-traveling-void-human @leviathans-tail-scales @nimko @solarixstar @sugarrush-blush @im-in-love-with-fairytales @irisxiel @meigalaxy @nightw-izhu @refridgeratorplus @moonieper @certified-twst-simp @immakittybear @iris-arcadia @caprinaesprout @mc-glare-is-king

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Tumblr is fuckin with me again.

Reminder; Just tell me if y'all wanna be added to the permanent taglist.

[astaroth1357]

Witchy Requests: The Reality of Summoning a Demon Lord

Contents: Violence and demons being demonic

~♡♡♡~

Summoning Lucifer

First off, this is not even remotely easy to do.

Lucifer does not get summoned away very often because it takes a witch at least comparable to Solomon's skill to pull it off. Of the small handful of people who can, only a couple are crazy enough to try (so he already knows them all by name).

Not only is this hard to do logistically, Lucifer also HATES being summoned with a burning passion. It messes up his schedule, gives him a pounding headache, and it's pretty humiliating to be ordered about like a dog on a lead.

Anyone summoning Lucifer has put some seriously strong spells in place to keep him in check. It'll take more than a salt circle to stay protected because he'll just blow that crap away with his wings.

It's well known that he will attack the second that the caster gives him the opportunity. Even so much as looking away could leave enough of an opening for him to fry them to a crisp. Extra potent magic chains and bindings are about the only things that ensure safety....

Deals with Lucifer are extremely costly due to how pissed he is just being there. He doesn't stop at their soul. Depending on the day, he could ask for any number of other sacrifices before he so much as lifts a finger. A person summoning Lucifer must be prepared to lose almost everything...

That said, he always fulfills his contracts to the letter and employs very little trickery. If the agreement was unclear, then that's on the summoner. Not him. They get exactly what they asked for.

There was a rumor going around for a time that if Lucifer was summoned with classical music in background, he'd be easier to deal with. Unfortunately, a naive young witch gave it a try and found out that "easier to deal with" Lucifer is still willing take off a hand or two no matter how sophisticated the room sounds.

Solomon has only managed to summon him twice. The first time was in a bid for a pact (which ended in a very wrecked office) and the second was an attempt to ask the questions about Michael that Simeon refused to answer (he let him go pretty quickly after receiving a death glare that would have turned his hair white if it weren't so silvery already).

Summoning Mammon

So like. It's pretty easy to do, but it ain't cheap.

Mammon only shows up if the caster can offer up some serious wealth in return. We're talking sprinkling the summoning circle in gold coins and Rolex watches to make it happen. They don't get to keep any of it, either. He's taking that as the "entrance fee."

Though he's generally a pretty safe summon, Mammon's motivations are directly tied to how much wealth he's gonna make off of their time together. Bribes aren't just encouraged, they're expected, and he gets pissed off if they think he'll do any work for free.

Since he encompasses the sphere of Greed, he sees a lot of witches and the like who summon him for a bit of luck or to increase their chances of acquiring ill-gotten gains. He usually demands a cut of whatever they manage to get from his help, on top of what it already took for him to play ball to begin with.

The only witches who get to skip his exorbitant prices are, unfortunately, the ones whom he already owes money to and it is degrading to say the least... He tries to keep MC out of that as much as possible and he'll straight up toss anyone who brings it up.

There's an urban legend around witching circles that of you can get Mammon to kiss a Grimm and give it to you, you'll have good fortune for an entire year. He doesn't really believe it himself but he still gave one to MC, just in case.

Solomon hasn't ever tried to summon Mammon, though he knows that he could very easily. He's not too tied to wealth or material possessions, so he's never needed his assistance to start with. If he ever summons him now, it's usually just to ask how MC is doing since the two are so close.

Summoning Levi

Often more trouble than it's worth...

Summoning Levi is really only useful for a VERY small handful of problems, nearly all of which concerning the Devil's Sea in some way. He's the only brother with any jurisdiction over it, much less the ability to talk to fish.

The issue is that Levi hates being summoned just as much as Lucifer. It drags him right out of his comfort zone and puts him a space where he feels like he's being judged for how useless he is... Thus, he'll spend the whole time sulking, irritated, and hissing to be left alone.

Levi has to be spoken to with extreme care because setting him off could result in the caster getting crushed by all 200 tons of Lotan then swept away in the flood that comes after.

Those who can appease him with video games and anime fair better, not by much because he gets even more irritated if they get details the wrong or seem like a "fake fan" (yes, unfortunately he gatekeeps 🥲). Only the most otaku of witches are safe from his temper.

In truth, main reason that anyone summons Levi anymore is for nautical travel through the Devil's Sea. The dude is like a living compass with precise latitude and longitudinal coordinates built into his DNA. But asking for that is also a one way ticket to meet Admiral Levi who is even WORSE to be around than the Otaku version...

The first time Solomon summoned Levi, they actually got along pretty well (largely thanks to Solomon's equally copious knowledge of TSL). He was only looking for the scales of a specific sea monster, but the two ended up chatting for a while. He thought that he could have made a pact with him right then and there, but Levi asked if he liked The Magical Ruri Hana and his answer to THAT shut things down instantly...

Summoning Satan

Practically the OG demon to summon despite being around for the least amount of time.

Satan is one of the easier brothers to summon because he spent a few centuries spreading around just how to do so in the human world. He wanted an excuse to leave the House and piss off Lucifer by fucking with humanity. Architect of the Satanic Panic right here.

I suppose you could say that in his younger years, Satan was something akin to a rockstar in witching terms. Even non-witches knew of him, just not a lot of the accurate details.

Satan was really the "ground zero" for humanity's pop culture surrounding demons. He used to use it as a chance to let loose from Lucifer's constant pressure, so he played up the persona of the "charming, charismatic bad boy with a homicidal mean-streak" beautifully.

You would also have to be a lawyer if you wanted to make a solid contract with him. He was wicked smart even back then and put it good use by tormenting the humans more. That classic phrase, "Deal with the Devil" came from the amount of times he'd gleefully screw someone over.

Since then, he's calmed down considerably and is even a little embarrassed about his old persona if anyone brings it up. He's much more refined in his modern day dealings, though he'll still make a nasty deal or two just to keep the humans on their toes.

Satan's fondness for cats is the reason why cats got tied to witchcraft in media. It was common knowledge that if you summoned him with a cat present, then he would be too distracted to give you a bad deal. Ever since then, it just stuck.

Solomon's true first interaction with Satan was when he summoned him one day to get some advice about making a pact with Lucifer... It was one of his worst ideas to date and he still has the mended ribs to show for it.

Summoning Asmo

Very easy with low risk... for the most part.

Asmo LOVES getting summoned out by witches. It feeds his ego something fierce. So he never makes it all that hard to do, however...

Those who summon Asmo quickly learn that it cannot be a one-time thing. Or if it is, it better fucking stay that way.

Asmo ties a lot of self-worth to how "in demand" he is, so after a witch summons him, he'll keep a tally on how long it takes for them to summon him again.

If they do so quickly and regularly? No issues. He couldn’t be happier! If they take too long between summons though...?

Fury. He'll come at them laying curse after curse because how DARE they forget about him like that!! And after, uh... whatever he did to help them out, no less!

Most witches just preemptively make a pact with him since they know that calling on Asmo is more like an ongoing relationship than a simple business transaction.

Ironically, despite the fact that Asmo wants to be summoned so badly, he is incredibly picky about the kinds of work he'll do. He won't do anything that could ruin his manicures, mess up his hair, strain his muscles, dirty his skin, cause a breakout, make him frown-

All of this absolutely stems from that time he was summoned by Solomon and tricked into doing hard labor to build his Temple. You live and learn, then throw the people who treat you poorly into the desert as punishment. Or something like that.

Summoning Beel

A very unwise decision unless you have the resources of a sultan.

Beel isn't exactly hostile by default, if anything he's very easy going all things considered. It's just that his stomach does a lot of the talking in contract arrangements...

After summoning Beel, the caster has to try and keep him fed at all costs. If he's eating, he's docile and easily negotiable. If he's hungry, he will eat them without hesitation. He's just going to go for the most filling thing in the room and, unfortunately, that tends to be the human in front of him.

As long as they have ten or so caterers on speed dial, deals with Beel are very straightforward. He's refreshingly forthright compared to the rest.

Sure, the first thing he usually asks for is permission to eat them, but he can be easily dissuaded by offering up something else to fill his stomach in their place. He's not bloodthirsty, just hungry.

For a short time, it was theorized that summoning both twins at the same time would make their interactions more safe, but that was quickly canned when it was discovered that Belphie would encourage Beel to eat whomever brought them there... He was not a good influence at all.

Solomon did actually try to summon Beel once thinking that he made enough food to keep him satisfied for a talk. Beel didn't even get three bites into his tuna salad before he lost consciousness... When he woke back up in HoL, he didn't have any memory of it and Solomon tactically decided to never mention it again so he could avoid future arguments.

Summoning Belphie

Blacklisted. Not allowed.

For centuries before MC showed up, Belphie was considered one of the most dangerous demons for a human witch to summon. Full stop. Even worse than Lucifer. The guy's bloodlust was unreal.

How exactly was the weakest brother considered the most deadly to interact with, you ask? Cold, hard manipulation.

Belphegor knows he's considered the weakest. He knows that he doesn't look like much of a threat. He even knows how to play into that "sleepy and harmless baby brother" image that he's spent so damn long building up.

Belphie is even better at persuasion than Satan. He can make whoever summons him feel silly, no, embarrassed for ever thinking he was a threat, then attack them when their guard was down.

Even if they keep him contained, his contracts are notoriously filled with wordplay and deceit. At best, he'll twist the terms around so he doesn't actually have to do anything. At worst, it'll become a death warrant with more than just their life on the line...

All of this, of course, was Belphie back when he still hated humans. But even after settling down with MC, he's in no rush to go correcting any records. He quite likes having his nap days uninterrupted, thank you.

One of the most horrifying rumors about summoning Belphegor is that if you sleep afterwards without fully sanctifying the room, he'll possess you in your sleep. There are still witches to this day who travel to the Devildom with sage in their pockets just in case they see him and need to start cleansing the area immediately.

Much like Mammon, Solomon has also never tried to summon Belphie. Sure, he can be somewhat unscrupulous, but even the witty sorcerer knows when the risk outweighs the reward.

Summoning Diavolo

Really only possible in theory because there has never been a successful attempt.

No one is very sure why all attempts to summon the Demon Prince crash and burn so easily. Solomon himself as spent centuries trying to work out the logistics.

Is there just no sacrifice comparable enough to bring out a being of his magnitude?

Are the sigils and chants required so ancient and esoteric that they've long been forgotten by mortal minds?

Do the summoning circles work but Diavolo, by the nature of his power and authority, just "opts out" of showing up if he feels like it?

Solomon has tried summoning Dia numerous times and every attempt has left him with nothing but wasted materials and broken dreams. This is basically his white whale. Don't bring it up or he'll get pouty.

Summoning Barbatos

Another unwise decision that leaves many with nightmares years later.

Barbatos is an... interesting case to summon. Like Lucifer, the caster has to be incredibly talented. Though unlike Lucifer, Barbatos doesn't react with such upfront vitriol.

To be clear, he is NOT happy. He is NEVER happy to be called away so suddenly from his lord. But it comes across more like a frigid aura of contempt and malice than the white hot hostility of all the others.

Put simply, it just feels like you royally fucked up in ways you can't even process.

The most unnerving thing about accepting a contract with Barbatos is that he will always agree to whatever is asked for with no complaint, but he'll never say what he wants in return.

The terms of all demonic contracts are that whatever is asked must be balanced by an equal sacrifice, but since Barbs NEVER identifies what he plans on taking, it leaves the caster to wonder what they've loss...

Every bad event from then on gets overanalyzed to the point of paranoia where the caster victim tries to identify if their debt has finally been paid or if he may still come to them one day and demand what he's owed...

Solomon doesn't know it, but a popular theory among his peers is that what Barbs took in exchange for their pact was his mortality in hopes that the centuries of loss and isolation would make him go insane. It's a silly little rumor, but it does still make Barbs chuckle whenever he hears it...

[matenrou-fan]

Hi, I'd like to request a spicy one: cockwarming hcs for Lucifer and Solomon (separately pls) Thx<3

Cockwarming with Lucifer and Solomon

here <3

femreader, teasing, begging, overstimulation, rough sex, slight dumbification, I think;;

NSFW UNDER THE CUT

;MINORS DNI;

-Let's be honest, he's really kinky in bed. So he knows about that before he meets you and has .. can't say "immunity to this", but he definitely experienced in cockwarming and really likes it.

-Mostly prefer to use it like a little foreplay - punishment if you were too bratty in recent days or he just has the right mood to tease you.

-And oh just what kind of emotions he makes you go through while you are sitting on his lap with a long thick cock pushing your walls so deep inside.. From just light embarrassment when you feel as Luci fully thrust into you but instead of usual fast pounding there's nothing, just light twitches of his dick.. To almost humiliation as you mewl in impatience, begging him to finally move as you can't take it anymore, too aroused..

-So yeah, he likes to take his time with you, red deep gaze fixed on your beautiful face as he enjoys every bit of your blushing cheeks and tear-filled eyes, you look so cute with these trembling lips and this tiny silver thread of saliva on your chin.. Did he actually make you feel this good without any actions..?

-"Mm, what's wrong? Did you miss me so much these few days so just the feeling of my cock makes your little pussy so wet..?" - a wave of goosebumps run down your spine as his bitter deep breath tickles your ear. His mouth is so close to your earlobe, you can feel the warmth of his lips, but instead of kissing you here he just bites soft skin, making you whine a little.

-Sometimes it feels like Lucifer's even more playful during cockwarming then during sex itself. It's just so hard not to tease you when all you do is keep sobbing and whining, your hips shaking as you try to squeeze his waist with your thighs, to get a little bit of friction, at least something..

-But uh oh, his arms are too strong and can hold you right in place, so you can't squirm around that much, the only movement you feel is his dick twitching a little inside you, and just touches.

-Oh yes. Just touches. As if Lucifer's hands itself is not enough for you to start trembling even more.

-The way he always starts with light strokes in your shoulders, so gently like if he is actually trying to calm you down from the overwhelming feeling in your pulsing core, but then his arms quickly get down, right to your waist.. Oh and the way he is always grabbing your waist, such possession and hunger in this tight grip as Luci brushes his fingers on your deliciously smooth skin..

-It just adds fuel to the fire, making you shiver and bite your lips as all you can't think about is these strong hands moving on your hips, squeezing soft flesh, so tight that leaving bruises as Luci finally starts pounding in you, fast and aggressive, absolutely wrecking your needy cunt..

-But you will not receive that. At least right now. Because he isn't satisfied yet. He's an avatar of Pride, after all, and the view of your body being so weak after his touches, the awareness of how controlled you are by him now.. This makes his dick throb even more as demon just can't stop but teases you even more.

-"Well if it's actually all you need to be happy then I don't mind.." - such a mocking tone as Lucifer's looking you right in the eyes, grasping your hips so greedy.. - "I'm ready to sit like this for a long time, enjoy that as much as you wish.."

-Oh, and the way your voice sounds now, so thin and weak as you sobbing, asking to stop this and finally give you what you want.. It's music to his ears that he can listen to forever.

-So Luci likes to play not only with your waist or hips, but he absolutely adores playing with your clit while sitting still. No movements inside you but he at least touches you here, why do you complain?

-Softly caressing you here, mocking you for being that needy as your clit is already throbbing and he can feel that with the tip of his finger. You just start clenching around him even more, do you like it? You like it when he almost makes you cum by only stimulating your clit?

-"You squeeze me so tight, darling.. Are you close?" - Lucifer smirks and sped up, pushing your sensitive spot with such rapid pace, you can't help but dig your nails in his shoulders, absolutely out of control. Your pussy trembling so much, sucking his dick deeper inside and it's both so pleasurable, to feel his fingers on your clit, sending you on edge, but at the same time that's still not enough as your cunt still wants some attention too.

-Of course he would tease you about that too. How cute and precious you are, actually cumming before you even start anything.. But it was the last straw for Lucifer, as he was also already so painfully hard, and after you clenched around him that much, wet hot walls clinging to his dick so tight.. He groan, finally gripping your hips and just start fucking you without any warning, without little break as you still need to catch your breath after orgasm..

-But it's even better, as this ache inside your body is finally fading away with every rough thrust of his cock, your mind is so dizzy and nebulous as the single thought in your head is Lucifer and his thick dick pumping you. You can't think straight or even talk, absolutely out of control of your body or voice, moaning loudly, whining and grasping his shoulders.

-And Lucifer loves that, as making you in a trembling overstimulated mess, so dumb and disparetable, his favorite thing.. But don't worry, you don't need to understand what is going on, cause he will take care of you and this wetness between your legs, just be obedient and keep calling his name with that high pitched voice, doll..

-Another tease with big experience right here, rip that pussy fr..

-When he offers you to try this for the first time, he sounds so calm and gentle, so you didn't even think about it that much, as you were sure everything would be easy and nice..

-So you absolutely didn't expect to find yourself out of breath, trembling, your vagina already so wet, pulsing and throbbing after just a few minutes on his laps, when he dick just enters inside you, warming up in the hot walls.

-"We just started, but it seems that you enjoy this so much already.. Don't worry, I will make sure to prolong your pleasure as long as I can.." - Solomon giggles, stroking your thighs. You can hear his breath become heavier as his cock twitches in your walls, enjoying the force of your tight walls, but his face is still so calm and playful.. There's no way he would lose that easily.

-He always says he uses cockwarming just like a little foreplay but honestly due to how long he can sit like that sometimes you think he tries to punish you for being too flirty with one of demon brothers or something.. But you never can really tell as Solomon's face is.. emotional, yes, but you can't read through all this playfulness and teases his actual intentions.

-Solomon is literally pro in arousing you with just a few touches, and the way he kisses you sometimes makes you almost fly away in heavens.. or maybe fall even deeper in hell due to what kind of feeling it makes you feel.

-So of course he would be even more passionate during this time, wanting to warm you up as much as he can, to the point where you are almost jumping on his lap, begging to finally start.

-Deep kisses with tongue as he gropes your breast, squeezing nipples between slim fingers and playing with them. Or Solomon would nuzzle to your neck, leaving a bunch of hickeys on soft skin as his hands grasp your butt, so greedy and hungry, it makes you shiver and squirm a little.

-Instead of holding you absolutely in place he would let you struggle a little, his grip is not that tight so you can move your body a little, feeling slight friction between your and his hips, his dick grinding against your walls just a little and you whine.

-It's honestly even worse than being absolutely controlled and holded, as you can feel just a little bit it's not enough, it just makes you even more needy. And of course Solomon can see that and of how much he actually enjoys your little movements with a small smirk on his face, eyes piercing at your trembling body and blushing face as you keep mewling a little, moving your hips there and there.

-Oh, he's willing to help..! Sighing, as he acts like he needs to make himself more comfortable in bed, his hands holding you more tight now and then Solomon starts moving, just a little, as he is still just trying to find a good position to sit.. But you can feel his dick move inside you too and you can't help but whine, clenching around him more.

-"Is something wrong, s/o..?" - voice so soft and gentle as if his dick didn't push your walls with such force all this time. Looking at his pale blue eyes that become so much darker and sinister during your private time is almost unbearable, as his deep gaze just makes you tingle even more, feeling absolutely under his control and mercy. You never know what is going on inside his head and how long he plans to play like that.

-And he loves that, he can see in these ashamed but lustful eyes of yours that you have no idea what he wants and it's amuse Solomon so much.. You and your precious body are all to his mercy, what he gonna do with you now..?

-Beg a little and he would laugh, teasing how quickly you give up. Did his dick actually feel that good that you already can't hold yourself straight?

-"Shh, darling, you should be more obedient.. Let me enjoy that a little bit more, okay? And then I will reward your needy pussy.." - he kisses your temple and giggle, hearing you small whisper as you keep sobbing like a little puppy, so desperate in your urge to be fucked.. He just can't get enough of this pathetic gaze as you keep beseeching him with your wet eyes, almost crying to be used by him..

-Solomon's soft whisper is almost hypnotizing, as he cooed to you to be a good girl, to listen to him.. You have no idea if he uses some specific magic on you or not but your head is empty now, all you hear is his deep voice and all you see is his naked body so close to your own, and all you can't think about is his cock, so deep inside, almost pressing to your sweet spot but with not enough strength..

-It's just makes you beg even more, you already threw away all your proud as you just want him, but, despite Solomon is actually really like when you call his name with such weak trembling voice, you can ask as much as you wish, he will continue his little games until he would be satisfied and when he would feel that his dick throbbing too much, also wanting some friction now.

-Only then he would start to move, but still in his playful manner - slow, long thrust that makes you moan loudly as you feel tingles rushes to your core. Your pussy start pulsating, waiting for more, but Solomon is still so lazy and sloppy.. it's such delight for him, to be wrapped around your tight walls that keep clenching around him, sucking him deeper, almost like if your cunt was also begging to be fucked roughly.

-"I hope you're prepared, darling.." - he suddenly chuckled, grabbing your waist and holding you close to his chest, his pace finally starting speeding up - "You was begging me to fuck you so bad, so now I will fulfill your wish. Don't worry, I think the whole night would be enough for your greedy pussy.."

-Now he's ready to be more active, makes you arch your back and shakes with such aggressive fast pounding. It almost feels like Solomon would break your little cunt with this force but you don't mind, as it feels just so good after such a long wait.

[another-lost-mc]

Okay. I know dark/sketchy Solomon isn’t everyone’s cup of tea. He’s a silly old man who can’t cook and he loves MC just the right amount (and even if it’s a little bit much, it’s fine because he’s so charmingly wholesome about it).

But what about Solomon that unleashes his power against the Devildom (and the Celestial Realm too, if they don’t stay out of it) because it was MC’s idea to go to war in the first place?

Something bad happens and MC snaps or gets fed up with demons and their nonsense. MC wants to fuck shit up, and Solomon turns literal heart eyes towards his darling apprentice, his beloved MC, and helps them because it’s him and MC against the world. Anyone who crosses MC will inevitably cross him as well.

Nearly everyone in the three realms underestimated how powerful they could be together, and the ones who didn’t underestimate them only hoped the day would never ever come when the world’s two most powerful sorcerers teamed up.

It wouldn't be the first time Solomon attacked the Devildom, but MC turning on them is one of the worst things that could ever happen. The Devildom's strongest demons are brought to heel at MC's command, and if Barbatos failed to predict this outcome, he's rendered powerless by his pact with Solomon.

The best case scenario is pact-bound demons are simply rendered useless, unable to act and forced to watch their human masters wreck havoc. The worst case scenario? Their human masters turn them into weapons against their will. Perhaps Diavolo is somehow strong enough to withstand such an assault — between the Avatars of Sin obeying MC and 72 demon lords (and their legions) under Solomon's command — but at what cost? Which of his cherished friends and advisors would be left standing at the end of such carnage when he's forced to subdue the threat to his kingdom by any means necessary?

People love Solomon and how he cherishes humanity and loves MC, but no one said MC couldn’t grow to have the potential for darkness and violence that King Solomon once had. How glorious it would be for him to bask in the flames of MC’s fury while showing everyone else how meaningless they really are. Solomon knows it’s him who will be at their side when MC reshapes the world from the ruins of their destruction to be one finally worthy of both of them.

[cursedonyx]

The Bars Between Us

Sebastian Sallow x MC

Oneshot AU in which Sebastian was sent to Azkaban despite Ominis and MC (named Dracaena in this fic because it’s my current favourite name) trying to keep his secrets. Ominis and Dracaena spent the next several years trying to free him, and eventually succeed. Sebastian is not the same, Azkaban has sapped him of everything he once was, but a little TLC from the woman he has always loved sets him back on track.

Word Count – 8.6k

Warnings – Angst, traumatised Sebastian, aftermath of Azkaban, engaged Ominis/MC, Ominis approves MC sleeping with Seb, seriously Seb’s been through the wringer, Azkaban is horrible, nursing Seb back to health, smut (MDNI), handjob M!receiving, oral M!receiving, sub!Sebastian, MC feels a bit guilty bc her boy is a wreck

Six years.

It had been six years since the terrible events of fifth year, and six years since Sebastian had stood trial for the murder of Solomon Sallow. Six years since he was sentenced to life in Azkaban.

Six years since Dracaena and Ominis had scrambled to find out who had condemned him, and vowed to make it right.

No sooner had they left Hogwarts, not able to fully appreciate the finality of riding the little boats across the Black Lake towards Hogsmeade station, leaving behind the place in which they had matured into adults, leaving behind the wonders and horrors in equal parts, that they both signed up for jobs at the Ministry for Magic, working in Magical Law Enforcement, searching for some kind of loophole, some kind of law, some kind of anything that would get their best friend released from hell.

After four agonising years, they managed it. Together, pouring over paperwork by candlelight until the small hours for months, they built a solid defence, their unwavering logic and staunch reasoning standing up to the needlepoint scrutiny of the powers that be. Of course, they knew it was a long shot all the same. The Ministry simply didn’t care about extenuating circumstances, considering those incarcerated to be less than human, doomed to serve their time no matter what new evidence came to light.

Ominis had to throw his weight around a bit. Subtle, hissed threats, muttered warnings and an overuse of his famous glare and family name eventually frightened enough people to get those with the ability to make changes to listen. And then Dracaena came in, her fame and her charm the honey to Ominis’ salt, making promises she never intended to keep, assuring those too nervous to make the jump to support them, doing favours that left an unsavoury taste in the back of her throat.

All of it proved worth it in the end. Sebastian’s release papers were handed over, and Dracaena packed a small bag.

“I’ll be a week,” she said to Ominis. “They want him to stay in a sort of halfway house for a while, to make sure he’s not going to go mental and start hexing everyone in sight. Personally, I’m just glad he’s going to get some time to start readjusting to life outside.” She tilted her head. “Won’t you come with me?”

“Best not,” Ominis said, for the fiftieth time, his patience unending. “I don’t want to overwhelm him, and you’ve always known how to calm him down when he gets too… well.”

She chuckled lightly. “That’s assuming he’s not a complete wreck. I hope it’s not affected him too badly.”

“Dove… he’s going to be very different to what we remember,” Ominis replied, resting a hand on her shoulder as she folded her clothes. “He won’t be the Sebastian we knew.”

“I know,” she raised her hand to his, smiling as he looped his other arm around her belly and held her tight. She tilted her head back to rest against his shoulder as he brushed a kiss over her cheek. “I hope he’s forgiven us for not doing more sooner.”

“He’ll have forgiven you,” Ominis said. “He always had a soft spot for you. I rather expect, even after all this time, that he’s still in love with you.”

Dracaena kept her silence. She and Ominis had naturally fallen together towards the end of their sixth year of Hogwarts, their shared experiences and pain leading them to comfort one another, she taking Sebastian and Anne’s place as Ominis’ refuge from his family, moving in together once they’d left the school. In a small way, she was surprised it had taken him as long as it had to propose, presenting her with an elegant ring of emerald and diamond set in white gold six months ago. She’d accepted gladly, though a tiny part of her mourned what that meant for Sebastian.

She loved Ominis with all her heart and more. She adored his gentleness, his respect, his kindness and consideration. She admired his steel, the restrained fury with which he dealt with their enemies, both inside and outside of work, his searing wit and boundless intelligence. She relished his talent as a wizard, and fell in love with him over and over again with each morning they woke beside each other, still spent from their passions, safe in each other’s arms.

But she still loved Sebastian.

Ominis tightened his arm around her.

“It’s alright,” he whispered. “I know how you felt about him. I know how you feel. If things hadn’t ended the way they did, I would have expected the pair of you to be married by now.” He brushed a hand over her hair. “Dracaena… he’s my best friend. I want him to stay with us. We have the room, and he’d be safer than if he was just left to try and survive by himself after all he will have been through. I know you and him well enough to know you’re drawn to each other.”

“But I’m yours,” she whispered, moving his hand to brush over her ring. “Remember?”

He shrugged. “I know. I trust you. I know that if you said nothing would happen between you, I would believe you because it would be true. But you’d be unhappy. You both would. I know you’re not going to leave me for him, Dracaena, but I know you also make each other happy. He’s going to need all the love and support he can get once he’s out. I’d hope that you can give that to him.”

She tilted her head. “Ominis… are you giving me permission to… play away with your best friend?”

He chuckled. “Don’t cheapen it,” his elegant fingers found her cheek, tilting her head so he could kiss her full. “I’m telling you that if you two happen to come together again, I support it. Didn’t you once tell me you’d have liked it if you could have had us both?”

“I was drunk!” she protested, giggling as he dug his fingers into her ribs, ticking her gently. “You can’t use that against me!”

“I can and will,” he laughed, holding her tight. “I mean it, Dracaena. I don’t mind at all, so long as it’s only him. He’s my brother as far as I’m concerned, and I trust you both.”

“You might regret it,” Dracaena warned.

“If I do, we’ll talk about it, and find a way to resolve it,” he said, releasing her at last. “Go on now, you need to get to the dock. Send me an owl once he’s settled.”

“I will.”

He brushed a hand over her cheek. “See you in a week. I love you.”

“Love you too.”

_.-~*~-._

The sky was a stormy grey, and the waves below were similarly sullen. They crashed against the side of the boat, sending salty sprays onto the deck as if it was their mission to knock the vessel off course.

Dracaena sat between two stern faced Aurors, her hands folded in her lap. She’d left her bag at the halfway house, a modest, three-roomed bungalow surrounded by similar buildings, grey bricked and dour looking. She had perched on one of the rickety chairs by the small, circular dining table as one of the Aurors explained to her that Sebastian would be under careful watch for the first year following his release, and any missteps would see him sent right back to Azkaban.

She’d only half listened as he went over an itemised list for what she should do during her week’s stay at the halfway house, pinning a sheet of parchment to the wall with the details. She was only to feed him small meals, as he wouldn’t be able to stomach anything more. Nothing rich, nothing too fatty, and no alcohol. She’d frowned, asking why.

“Because the prisoners don’t tend to eat,” he’d said, gruffly. “The dementors have to force them in order to keep them alive.”

She’d shivered then, and she shivered now, remembering. They weren’t allowed to leave the halfway house, except for at specific times each day to walk around the complex for ten minutes at a time, to build up his strength. She had to write a detailed report at the end of each day to give to the Aurors, describing their conversations and activities. She was sternly warned that if she didn’t, there would be Trouble. Said Trouble was left unspecified, and she didn’t have the heart to ask.

Dracaena shifted, watching as something huge, angular and black began to rise from the waves, impossibly tall, impossibly wide, made entirely of stone. Only a few small windows lay in the surface, like knife wounds in flesh. Her hands tightened in her lap as dread began to seep under her skin, a visceral fear prickling over her neck and shoulders. She was only going to be there for a short time, to bring her best friend home. She couldn’t imagine how Sebastian would have felt, seeing that pillar of misery approach, believing he would never leave.

She loosed a soft breath, eyeing the distant, tattered black shapes swooping around outside it. He would leave. He would leave with her, and everything would be alright.

The boat approached a yawning cavern at the base of the prison, the Aurors casting a Patronus each, a mouse and a raven. There was a dock in the cavern, the blackness chased away by sparsely placed sconces in the damp, glistening walls. Standing there waiting was a hunched little man, balding on top with buck teeth and a sickly smile. He had a Patronus as well, something that looked like a cross between an ailing puppy and a wall-eyed rat.

Dracaena stepped off the boat, shivering, the feeling of dread still creeping under her clothes and caressing her skin. She set her jaw, drew her wand, and cast a Patronus of her own.

An elegant panther touched its paws to the stone, gazing around imperiously as the Aurors and the little man raised their brows, the dread vanishing from her chest as if it had never been. From the shadows around the walls, several rattling voices gurgled and hissed, as if angry.

“Where is he?” she demanded.

“Cell 506,” the little man said, rubbing his hands together with a grin that seemed entirely too cheerful for such a place. “Follow me, my dear.”

The patronuses cast silvery blue light on the walls as they ascended a surprisingly wide staircase, their footsteps echoing. Reaching the first floor, the little man produced a set of keys and unlocked a heavy, barred door.

“No need for magic here,” he cackled. “No one’s got their wands, have they?”

They strode into a cell block, and Dracaena recoiled. The scent of filth was overwhelming, but it was the sounds that chilled her. Her Patronus flickered, moving to stand beside her as desperate sobs filled her ears, tortured cries and garbled, gibbering wails singing in a hellish harmony that echoed off the walls.

The sounds died down as the little man and the Aurors encouraged her on, and though she tried to face forward, to ignore the figures in the cells, she couldn’t help but notice how they scrambled towards the bars, their bony, wasted hands reaching through, stretching for the patronuses as the tattered shadows of the dementors fled their presence. The screams began again as they passed, somehow more agonised than before.

They repeated this four more times, ascending rapidly narrowing staircases and emerging into a new cell block, climbing higher and higher, taunting the prisoners with the promise of relief from their misery in their passing. With each step, Dracaena’s heart beat just a little faster, her grip on her wand increasing, the hackles on her panther Patronus rising as she bared her teeth.

By the time they reached the fifth floor, her palms were sweating. How different would he be? Would the Sebastian she knew and loved still be there, somewhere? Would his eyes still sparkle with the mischief he was so adept at making, at once sliding into fury when he was challenged, and softening whenever he looked at her? She knew he’d be different. He’d look different. He’d act different. But she had to believe he was still there.

No matter her provisions, in the following years, Dracaena didn’t think there was anything on earth that could have prepared her for what she saw when she finally reached Sebastian’s cell.

Unlike so many of the other prisoners, he wasn’t screaming or crying, and he didn’t rush to the bars to feel the passing warmth of the patronuses. He huddled by the wall, next to a narrow mattress and ratty blanket laid directly on the floor. His hair was halfway down to his elbows, thick and matted, almost black with grime. He was dressed as they all were, in a filthy pair of striped trousers and shirt, and they hung loose on his frame. His head was on his arms, resting on his knees, drawn to his chest. The hand she could see was almost skeletal, every inch of boyish puppy fat stripped from his body. His nails were bitten to the quick and filthy, as were his bare feet.

Dracaena raised a hand to the bars, her heart shattering as she took him in, watching as he shivered.

“See, he’s one of the tough ones,” the little man said, with a chuckle. “Just keeps to himself, terribly well behaved. Shame to see him go, really.”

Dracaena tightened her grip on her wand to the point she thought it might snap. She turned to the little man, letting her expression say everything she dared not voice, for if she opened her mouth, she would likely find herself in a cell of her own. The little man seemed to understand, because his sick grin slipped, and he hurried to unlock the cell door. She barged him out the way before he’d even pulled the key from the lock, striding inside and falling to her knees before the broken man she had loved.

“Sebastian?” she whispered, her Patronus sitting in front of the door and glowering. He didn’t move. “Sebastian, it’s time to go.”

He stirred, his fingers tightening on his sleeve. She reached out, brushing a hand over his arm, and he flinched.

“Bassy,” she whispered, the pet name she’d given him both foreign and familiar on her tongue. He tensed, finally raising his head. His chocolate eyes, once so full of life, were dull and defeated above hollow cheeks and a beard that reached his collar. Even so he was familiar to her, the rampant freckles scattering his skin like constellations a siren call to their bond. He blinked, focusing, and didn’t say a word.

“Bassy, it’s time to go,” she said again, cupping his cheek, sliding her thumb over the protruding bone, her fingers winding into the thatch of hair at the back of his neck. He flinched away again, his expression becoming fearful, his eyes darting around the cell.

“Happens sometimes,” the little man said sullenly from beyond the bars. “They forget who they are. Forget who they knew. He’s not said a word in five years, so don’t expect him to. He probably thinks this is some kind of joke.”

She shot another glare that could melt steel through the bars, then shifted her position, grasping Sebastian by the arms and standing, heaving him to his feet.

He came up with almost no resistance, and she staggered, almost flinging him into the air, horrified by how light he was. He made a small sound of muted alarm as he left the floor.

“I’m sorry,” she said, relaxing her grip. She grabbed for him again when he slumped, his legs refusing to support his weight. She glanced through the bars again as the Aurors stirred.

“We’ll have to drag him,” one said. “Prisoners sometimes forget how to walk, or they just don’t have the will.”

“You’re not dragging anybody,” she spat. She looped an arm around Sebastian’s back, bending to catch his legs, lifting him in her arms like a child. He tensed, then slumped, his head lolling against her shoulder. He was so light, so alarmingly fragile, as if he was made of parchment, ready to tear apart at the slightest movement. Her heart broke again, and her Patronus flickered as she cradled him. Without another word, she marched from the cell, heading for the doors, the other prisoners gibbering as she passed, begging her to take them too, to leave her Patronus, to kill them. She paid them no mind, focusing on holding Sebastian tight to her chest, his feet swinging, his breath rushing over her neck. His hands were folded on his stomach, and one of them slid to her, pinching the fabric of her cloak, then holding gently.

She held him all the way to the dock, refusing to release her grip as she settled back on the boat. She raised a hand to his hair, gently running over the back of his head. It left streaks of grime on her fingers, but she didn’t care. A deep, boiling anger simmered in her chest. Anger for what he’d been put through. Anger that anyone was forced to endure such a hellish place. But mostly, she was furious with herself for allowing this to happen, furious with Ominis for knowing what Azkaban was like, and letting him be taken anyway, the word of some unknown person sealing his fate.

It didn’t matter that they’d spent the next six years trying to find a way to free him. The damage had been done. She felt it in his trembling breath, in the way he held onto her cloak so gently, knowing in her bones that it was the tightest grip he could muster. She wrapped her arms around him more securely, resting her cheek against his forehead, whispering soft words of comfort as her collar grew sodden with his silent tears.

_.-~*~-._

Dracaena carried Sebastian over the threshold of the halfway house in much the same way a groom carries his bride. She wasn’t blind to the imagery, and wondered if Ominis would do the same to her once they were married. Would he be able to navigate if his hands were full of her body and not his wand? Probably. He was astonishingly capable, to the point she often wondered if his blindness really was total, like he said. Perhaps he had some Seer blood in him that aided him. It would certainly go a long way to explain how he always seemed to know everything, even things he shouldn’t know.

She kicked the door shut in the faces of the Aurors that had accompanied them.

She eyed the living room of the halfway house, the low sofa facing the kitchenette and dining table. Through one of the doors was a little bedroom, and through the other was a tiny, cramped bathroom. It was towards this that she headed, conjuring a low seat, in which she deposited Sebastian. He was unresponsive as she stood back with a light sigh, gazing down at him and eyeing the stains left on her robes.

She pulled off her cloak and overrobes, standing before him in a simple pair of trousers and vest top, tossing her robes through the still open door, before kneeling down in front of him.

“First order of business,” she said, softly. “We’re here for a week, Bassy. We’ve got a to-do list, but I’ll take care of it as best I can. I’ll need your help, though. Can you do that for me?”

His throat worked a moment, then he gave a tiny, barely perceptible nod. Dracaena loosed a soft breath. At least he was listening to her.

“I think you’d feel a lot better after a shower,” she said, keeping her tone low and soothing. “Would you like that?”

Another miniscule nod.

“Can you take care of that, or would you like some help?”

No response to that. She tilted her head, waiting, her hands on his knees, until he glanced at her, his eyes lighting on hers and flicking away again like a moth fluttering about a lantern. They were still dull and hollow, curtained by the matted strands of his hair. She reached up and brushed a hand over it.

“I think we need to give you a haircut,” she said. “I can’t think of a single brush that can save it, I’m afraid, it's too tangled. Can I cut your hair for you? And maybe this?” she ran her hand over the wild beard. “Much as I think a beard suits you, it could do with a trim, don’t you think?”

A tiny nod, ever so slightly more vigorous than the last. She smiled, and reached behind her, fumbling in the cabinet for scissors.

“I’ll save what I can,” she said, taking a ropey strand of his hair between her fingers. “I can’t imagine you’d enjoy being bald.”

A miniscule exhalation. She tilted her head.

“Was that a laugh, darling?”

He didn’t answer, but leaned forward, resting his head on her shoulder. She set the scissors aside a moment and wrapped her arms around his back, alarmed to feel the bones of his spine poking through his skin. She held him gently until his arms rose, gripping the back of her top with a featherlight touch. He shivered, his breath trembling on the exhale. She held him tighter, pressing her cheek to his.

“It’s alright,” she murmured, circling her hand over his back. “You’re safe, Bassy. You’re out. You’re not going back there, okay? Once we’ve done what we have to here, you’re going to come and live with me and Ominis. We’ll look after you.”

She felt his jaw clench a moment, then he sat back, meeting her eyes properly for the first time. He held her gaze a long moment, before it dropped to her hands, resting on his knees again. He touched her ring, his skeletal fingers brushing over the emeralds and diamonds. He sighed, seemingly caving in on himself.

“Congratulations,” he said, his voice so quiet she could barely hear it over the rasp of his throat.

She could have cried, then. God only knew what he’d been thinking when he was trapped in that cell. Had he been hoping she’d come for him? That she’d have waited for him? Had he tortured himself with thoughts of other people getting close to her, loving her? Had he known on some level that she and Ominis would end up together, engaged, and soon to be married? Had he loved her as she loved him once, and wished it was he that slid the ring onto her finger?

What would he think if she told him of Ominis’ offer?

“Thank you,” she said. Best not to overload him. She should have taken her ring off, but it was too late for that now. She raised a hand to his hair again. “I… I’ll be honest, I’ve never done this before. It won’t be a brilliant job, but it’ll help.”

He gave another miniscule nod, and closed his eyes. She gazed at him a while longer, then picked up the scissors, sliding them through the matted tangle of his hair before closing them with a decisive snick.

_.-~*~-._

Shorn of his beard and most of his hair, Sebastian was beginning to look a little more like himself, though his face was terribly gaunt, his cheeks hollow, the sharp lines of his jaw standing out above his brittle neck. Dracaena vanished the pile of hair with a flick of her wand, then reached over to the bathtub, turning on the shower and holding her hand in the stream until it warmed to a comfortable temperature.

“Shall I leave you to it?” she asked. “I can give you some privacy.”

He didn’t answer, his hollow gaze turned inward, slumping slightly in his chair. She took his chin and tilted his face to hers, waiting until his eyes focused. “Bassy, do you want me to help?”

He blinked, slowly, his gaze turning distant again. With a light sigh, Dracaena lowered her fingers to the buttons of his shirt, slowly prying them open, one by one. At each, she paused, looking at him until he gave a tiny nod. She withheld a wince with some difficulty as she gently pulled it from his shoulders, able to see each rib through his skin, streaked with grime. Her heart broke a third time.

“Can you stand?” she asked, gently. “We should get these off too.” She touched the leg of his trousers. He didn’t answer, so she tucked her hands under his arms and rose, bringing him with her. He leaned against her, his arms rising to clutch at her back again as she nimbly undid the drawstring. The clothing crumpled straight to the floor, far too large for his frame. She averted her eyes, helping him step under the stream of warm water, lowering him to sit, and he drew his knees to his chest.

How many times in her fifth year had she wondered what he’d look like under his robes? Countless times, lying awake at night, or daydreaming in class. Now he was here it felt somehow wrong, like a violation to take the opportunity to drink in his form when he was so vulnerable. So she didn’t look, focusing on his face as his short hair plastered to his scalp, the water turning black as it streamed over his skin. She pressed a washcloth into his hands, and he held it, but made no further move.

“Come on darling,” she murmured. “Help me out a little bit?”

No response. With a soft smile, she picked up another washcloth and slid it over his back, applying light pressure to the more stubborn patches of dirt. Sebastian closed his eyes, resting his head on his crossed arms as she soaped his back, his grip on his own cloth tightening a little. And even though she resisted, scolding herself silently, Dracaena couldn’t help but look at him properly. Under the steadily vanishing grime, his back and shoulders were as freckled as his face, fading the further her eyes travelled down his spine and arms. He was a lot paler than she remembered, but then he’d gone from an outdoorsy, adventurous nerd to a prisoner in a cell, not a speck of natural light to be found. She’d have to make sure there was a decent spot in the garden for him to relax, once they were all home.

She nibbled her lip, glancing at his slender thighs, once thick. No freckles there. A few on his calves, none on his feet. She wrenched her gaze away before it strayed any further, and she slipped a hand under his chin, tilting his head back so she could get to his hair. He closed his eyes with a tiny sigh as she rubbed suds through the thick strands, massaging his scalp gently until she was sure every speck of dirt was gone. She pressed a hand to his collarbone.

“Sit up straight, darling,” she whispered. “I need to get to your chest.”

He acquiesced, leaning back until he overbalanced. Dracaena caught him with a startled yelp, an arm around his back, spluttering a little as her head and shoulders entered the shower stream. His legs stretched out as he slumped against her arm, his head turning to her shoulder, his eyes still closed. She caught her breath, blinking water out of her eyes.

“You alright?”

A tiny nod.

She took a breath, and keeping her gaze firmly fixed above his waistline, she moved the cloth over his torso, trying not to admire the fine hair dusting his chest, focusing on removing every speck of dirt she could see. She took her time, because at some point, she was going to have to try to convince him, again, to help himself. There was only so far she could reasonably go when he was so out of it, despite what Ominis had said.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to look, or to touch… to taste. It wasn’t that she had any problems in taking care of Sebastian in whatever way he needed. It was that he was fresh out of Azkaban, barely four hours free, still confused and addled and traumatised and broken, and she couldn’t assume that he would want anything to do with her at all.

It was still difficult. She shifted, her arm around his back, propping him up as she gripped his shoulder, his head resting against hers, flipping her sodden hair out of her face, her top already soaked. She circled the cloth over his chest a final time, sliding it over his nipple, and he groaned.

The sound was so soft that she thought for a moment she’d imagined it. She paused, swallowed, and repeated the movement. He sighed, tucking his head more firmly against her shoulder, and out of the corner of her eye, she caught a stirring.

Dracaena closed her eyes, willing herself to cool the heat rising from under her collar. She was his friend, that was all, helping him after a terrible ordeal. She couldn’t possibly take advantage of him, not now, not when he was vulnerable and needed her to help him. He wasn’t in his right mind. She had to be strong for them both. In time, perhaps she could, but…

She steeled herself and returned to the job at hand, sliding a bar of soap over his stomach and following it with the cloth. The water ran clear over his body, though it still pooled brown and grimy by his feet and legs, and-

She wrenched her eyes back up, glaring at the pale tiles of the bathroom wall.

“You going to give me a hand?” she asked. “I’m getting soaked.”

Again, no response. He slumped against her, his breathing perhaps a little quicker than before. Hardening herself, Dracaena took the washcloth to his thighs, scrubbing perhaps a little firmer than she had before, tucking a hand under his knee to bring his leg closer so she could still support him. Her back was beginning to ache, bent over the bath as she was, but she ignored the dull fire spreading under her shoulder blades, focusing on her task. All the same, she couldn’t help but notice how he shifted, widening his legs with another soft sigh, his hand sliding over her back to grip at her shoulder as she worked. She slid the cloth over the inside of his thigh, and a soft, almost strangled whimper passed his lips as he tilted towards her.

Dracaena had endured many trials in her life. Stopping a goblin rebellion, defeating a power-crazed, dragon-transformed lunatic set on killing her, as well as countless attacks from poachers and Ashwinders, defeating a powerful Dark Wizard in single combat and more. So much more. Still, if anyone had asked her in the later years what she found the most difficult trial of all, she would have said in a heartbeat that ignoring Sebastian’s throbbing erection as she washed him was among the top three.

She did steal a glance or five. She was only human, after all. And by God, he was beautiful. Not quite as long as Ominis, but thicker, a darker shade, the lush pink of Ominis’ love more a light burgundy with Sebastian, and the way he rested against his stomach, his toes curling as the shower stream rushed over him was more intoxicating than heroin. There was nothing more that she wanted than to wrap her hand around his length and draw him to the edge of bliss, to let him revel in the delights so long denied him, to hear him moan and whimper her name…

Again, Ominis’ assurances that he was not only fine with her playing away with Sebastian, but that he expected it ran through her mind. She loosed a soft breath as she moved the washcloth to his hips, his grip increasing on her arm as his breathing rushed past her ear. She set her jaw.

She couldn’t.

“I need to get some things ready,” she said, firmly. “Finish up, Bassy, I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

She waited until his grip on her arm loosened, helping him sit upright. It pained her to leave him alone, huddled and defenceless as she strode for the door, wringing water from her hair and drying it with a wave of her wand. But she had to. God and Merlin only knew what she would have done otherwise. He was too fresh, too vulnerable. How could she take advantage of him like that? How could she even think it?

Biting her lip, she settled at the small table and drew parchment and quill towards her, penning a short note.

My darling Ominis,

Sebastian is with me in the halfway house, and all things considered, he’s as well as he can be. I don’t want to alarm you, but he’s lost a lot of weight and isn’t very responsive, and I expect it will take some time before he’s better. You were right, he’s not as we remember, but I feel the old Sebastian is still there, somewhere.

I miss you. I love you. I can’t wait to be home with you.

Dracaena.

She wanted to add another line, clarifying that Ominis had meant what he said, hoping he would change his mind, for if he demanded she remain solely his it would be easier to deny the stirrings she felt for Sebastian. But he wouldn’t deny her, he wouldn’t refuse. He’d almost been insistent.

She sealed the letter instead, opening the door and beckoning the owl perched nearby. It took the note in its beak and flew off, soon lost amongst the clouds. She took a breath, noting the dark figures leaning against the walls of the surrounding buildings, the curtains twitching in windows. She made a face and retreated back inside. Christ, with the number of Aurors surrounding them, it was almost like Sebastian was a mass-murdering lunatic, not a broken man who had paid a price far dearer than the death of his horrible uncle warranted.

She tilted her head as the sounds of running water from the bathroom shut off. She waited as a shadow moved beyond the open door. It seemed that Sebastian could get about by himself if he needed to. That was good. She moved to the kitchenette, opening the cupboards and grimacing. Simple foods like porridge oats, rounds of dark bread and rice nestled beside tins of nondescript meat and vegetables huddled on the shelves. Dull fare for certain, and she wished she could use her Ancient Magic to conjure something more palatable, but it didn’t work that way. Sebastian had always been fond of sweet things, and there wasn’t a gram of sugar to be found.

She pulled a few items down and set about making a simple meal of white fish and rice with a side of green beans, careful not to make too much. He’d need time to adjust to eating real food again, and she had no idea what he’d been forced to eat behind bars.

Dracaena turned at a slight noise to find Sebastian standing in the doorway of the bathroom, leaning heavily against the frame, a towel around his waist. He gave her the beginnings of a tired, shy smile, only the corners of his mouth twitching. She left the saucepan and rushed to him.

“There’s clothes in the bedroom,” she said, leading him, an arm around his waist as he slumped against her. “We’ll have some dinner and get you settled for the night, yeah?”

He nodded, a firmer, more decisive action than before. Depositing him on the bed, which creaked, she ferreted around in the old wardrobe, bringing out a selection of shirts and trousers.

“Any preference, or are you not fussy?”

He blinked slowly, his eyes on her, seemingly indifferent about the clothes in her hands. With a shrug, she picked out a dark shirt and pair of trousers, leaving them on the bed.

“I’ll leave you to it, darling, if you need-”

His hand found hers, and she paused, turning to him, finding the corners of his eyes glimmering.

His lips parted, his throat working a moment before his voice found its way out, hushed and rasping.

“This… is real? You’re… really here?”

She knelt before him, taking both his hands in hers.

“Of course it’s real,” she whispered. “Bassy… Ominis and I have spent the last six years trying to find a way to free you. You didn’t deserve what happened to you, you didn’t deserve Azkaban. You’re coming home with us, and you’ll never go back, alright?”

He nodded again, a tiny smile touching his lips.

“You… got me out?”

“I’m sorry it took so long,” she said. “We had to bully a lot of people, rewrite some laws, and build a case. It took ages, Bassy, but we never gave up. We just wanted you home with us.”

“And…” he drew a breath, as if the act of speaking fatigued him beyond all reason. “Anne?”

Dracaena hesitated. She knew this would come up, but she’d hoped it wouldn’t be so soon. The reason for his fighting, the reason for his research, the reason for his mistake. How could she tell him that the curse that plagued his sister had taken her life three years ago?

It would break him. Destroy him in ways that Azkaban never could.

“Time enough for that later,” she said, forcing a smile onto her face. “What’s important right now is getting you back on your feet, alright?”

It was a poor answer, and she knew it. Sebastian had never been one to let things lie, least of all something as important as his twin, whom she had buried with Ominis on a beautiful hill overlooking Feldcroft on a blossom-strewn spring morning, the pair of them shedding silent tears not just for the senseless loss of life, but because it meant everything Sebastian had sacrificed had been for nothing. But Sebastian didn’t question her further, merely nodding again and releasing her hands, reaching for the clothes.

Dracaena returned to the kitchen in time to put out a small fire that had started in the pan. She swore and pulled out another tin of white fish, vanishing the blackened mess with a wave of her wand.

Sebastian joined her at the small table not long after, clinging to the walls and countertops to support himself until she hurried over, pulling his arm over her shoulders. Though his first mouthful of food was hesitant, he soon fell upon it like a man starved, going so far as to toss his fork aside and eat with his hands. Once he was done, he held himself still, staring at his plate before the hollowness returned to his eyes, and he withdrew into himself, drawing his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around them, staring at nothing as Dracaena pushed her plate aside, her appetite quite gone.

“You should sleep,” she said, softly. She rose and took his hand, drawing him to his feet and tucking an arm around his waist, leading him to the bedroom. She sat him down, helping him unbutton his shirt, pausing as she reached the hilt of his trousers.

“There’s… there’s pyjamas and things in the wardrobe,” she said. “I can get them for you?”

Sebastian didn’t answer, his eyes dragging with tiredness, but his hand snared hers as she rose.

“Stay?” he rasped. “Please?”

It took every ounce of her self-control to refuse.

“You’ll be alright,” she said. “You’re safe here, Bassy.”

His throat worked a moment, and he nodded, his hand sliding from her grip. Dracaena returned to the living room, setting the dinner things to wash and settling down on the sofa, conjuring a blanket and removing her clothes, lying down in just her underthings.

Ominis was on her mind as she settled to sleep, wishing he was here with her. She longed to feel his elegant arms around her, to reassure her, to comfort her as she wept silently for all the pain their dearest friend had endured.

_.-~*~-._

Dracaena work to darkness and agonised, desperate screams.

She bolted from the sofa, her heart in her throat as she tore towards the sound, her mind conjuring horrors beyond mortal imagining as she burst into the bedroom. Sebastian was huddled in a corner, his arms splayed against the walls, his knees drawn to his chest, his eyes wild as he tried to press himself through the brick and plaster, cowering away from something she couldn’t see.

“Sebastian!” she dashed over, grabbing for his shoulders, and he lashed out, howling, the side of his hand connecting with her temple, and she saw stars. Shaking herself, she grabbed for him again as he fought against her, yelling wordlessly. “Sebastian, it’s me! It’s alright! Calm down, please!”

He pushed back against the wall, soft, keening sounds wrenching from his throat, his eyes unseeing as she wrapped her arms around him, gasping comforting words into his ear. Eventually, his arms rose to encircle her, burying his face in her shoulder and weeping helplessly.

“It’s alright…” she murmured. “It’s alright, darling. There’s nothing here that can hurt you. You’re safe.”

Sebastian just cried, clinging to her as she settled on his thighs, wishing she could hold him tighter, wishing she had more arms to wrap around him, to hold him more securely than she could, her hand circling over his back, the other wound into his hair as he sobbed into her shoulder.

“It was just a nightmare, darling,” she murmured. “That’s all. Nothing more. You’re alright.”

It took a long time before Sebastian was able to calm down, his frightened sobs becoming whimpers, quietening to harsh breaths as he grasped at her back, shivering so hard she thought he could power a small house.

“What was it?” Dracaena asked, leaning back a little and cupping his face. “Darling, what did you see?”

He shook his head, his face tear-stained, pulling her back to him and resting his head against her shoulder again.

“I-I’m… sorry,” he managed.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” she assured him. “Bassy, I’ve no idea what you’ve been through, but I’m here to help you. Tell me what you need.”

“Stay… with me,” he whimpered, holding her as tight as he could, though the strength of his arms was little more than strands of silk. “Please, Drac… Don’t leave me alone.”

With a muted nod, she tucked her hands under his arms again, levering him upright and guiding him to the bed, laying him down and tucking him in, before settling atop the covers. Sebastian turned over, his arm looping over her side.

“Will… you be… warm enough?” he whispered.

“I’ll be fine,” she assured him. “Get some rest, love, I’ll be right here.”

“Come under,” he insisted, snuggling closer to her. “Please, Drac. I… I haven’t touched… another person in… years. I… I-I need to be close… to you.”

She hesitated, and Sebastian huddled up to her, his hands tight at her back, his skin fire against hers.

“Drac… I-I’m sorry, I-I know you’re… with Ominis, I don’t want… to upset you… or spoil that. I-I just need… to be close to you… please. I don’t want to be alone.”

Setting her jaw, Dracaena slid under the covers, wrapping her arms around him as he snuggled into her, his head against her collarbone, his body pressed to hers, almost as though he needed to become a part of her, to meld his flesh with hers, the pads of his fingers digging into her back.

She held him tight as he shivered, wishing she could take the pain he suffered and draw it into herself to shield him from the horrors he had endured. But she couldn’t. She could only lie there, holding him, stroking his hair as he pressed his face between her breasts, his skeletal frame wracked with shudders as guilt seared through every fibre of her being. She pulled him closer, and he groaned softly.

Dracaena couldn’t ignore the hardness that pressed against her, as much as she wanted to. Despite Ominis’ assurances, she needed to be strong, to show him she cared for Sebastian as more than just a vessel for carnal pleasure. She didn’t need that. As she was with Ominis, her own bliss mattered less than that of her partner, her delight being in when she brought him to the edge of paradise and sent him over, soaring on clouds of ecstasy. Would it be so wrong to gift the same to Sebastian, when her fiancée had condoned it?

Sebastian groaned softly, the tip of his erection nudging against the soft flesh of her abdomen, straining against his pyjamas. He nuzzled against her breasts, only the thin lace separating their skin. Dracaena drew a soft breath. No matter her concerns, perhaps this was what he needed. Had she not vowed to care for him, no matter what he needed? Her hand slid over his side, over the ridges of his ribs, gliding over the hollow between them and his hip, coming to rest on the sharp protrusion of bone. Sebastian whimpered softly, tilting his body towards her hand.

“Are you sure?” she breathed. “Is this what you want?”

“Yes…” he whispered, the word ragged, forged from a throat too unused to speaking. “Please…”

Still she hesitated, preferring to caress his body, worried that it would be too much for him, worried that no matter his assurances, Ominis would be hurt if she allowed herself to indulge, but Sebastian clung to her, the little strength he had poured into pulling her closer.

“Drac…” he whined softly, writhing against her as her hand sculpted over his chest and stomach. “Please, Drac… please, make me feel human again. Please, please touch me… please… I’ll do anything… I just… I need to feel alive again.”

And hell, she’d be lying if she said she didn’t want to make him feel good after everything he’d been through. She cupped his cheek, turning his face to hers, pressing her lips to his with a softness akin to featherdown and satin. But he responded with fire and fury, his hand clamping against the back of her head, pressing her close as his lips worked magic over hers, scattering the last of her restraint as she wrenched him to her.

His breath came in sharp gasps as she pushed his clothing aside, her hand dipping down to caress the length of him. He tensed, a low moan rising from his throat as she graced her hand along him, before his grip at her back tightened, and he flexed his hips, thrusting into her palm, each movement accompanied by a gasp.

“Please,” he whimpered. “Make me feel good, make me feel right… make me feel real, Drac, please.”

Dracaena sealed her lips to his, drawing his breath into her and sending it back as heaven and light, her hand gliding along his throbbing length, her movements careful and controlled. Sebastian loosed a long, deep moan that seemed to rise from the bottom of his lungs, as if such a sound had been too long caged and finally set free. He sank back to the pillows, his limited strength seemingly spent, his eyes rolling back as his lashes fluttered, and she favoured him with kisses that peppered his face and chased over his neck, pausing only at his chest to swipe her tongue over his nipple. Sebastian groaned, his head rolling from side to side, one hand at her shoulder, the slight pressure increasing as she kissed down his taut stomach.

She could take him any way she wanted. She could pin him down and ravage him until he forgot his own name, she could bend him backward and bury his delicious cock in her throat, she could even turn him over and work a magic inside him that she was certain too few wizards had ever had the fortune to experience. But Dracaena bore down on her desires. Too much could break him. There would be months, years, perhaps, in which she could show him all the wonders she had learned since being with Ominis. She could show Ominis what she learned from Sebastian. She could learn from them both, together, but only if she treated them right.

Sebastian moaned like a starved whore when she flicked her tongue over the flushed head of his cock, his head pressing back into the pillows, his free hand grasping a fistful of the sheets as she slowly kissed along his length. She tucked a hand under his hips as she nuzzled the inside of his thighs, taking a moment to savour the desperate sounds pushed up from the depths of his being, the hand at her shoulder moving to the back of her head, his grip weak but insistent.

She couldn’t deny him any longer. Dracaena flattened her tongue against him and drew it slowly to the tip, already weeping with slick, crystal fluid, his ribs expanding and contracting with each rapid, short breath, his stomach hollowing as his hips bucked towards her. Her free hand found his, and she laced their fingers together as she took him into her mouth at last.

Seven years of longing couldn’t have prepared her for the feel of him against her lips, sliding over her tongue, invading her throat, the deliciousness of his fevered skin, the subtle, peppered tang of his love so similar and yet so different to the gentle salt and sugar of her Ominis. Sebastian’s back arched, his legs falling apart, his hand winding into her hair as his grip on her hand trembled, his thighs beginning to quiver as she flicked her tongue over the underside of his head, so sensitive after so many years of neglect, his voice a wordless song of ecstasy. She sealed her lips and drew them along his shaft, rewarded by a series of frantic moans that rose in fever and pitch. She wanted to pull back, to slow down, to make him wait, the dominant side of her fighting for control, but even she was not that cruel. Instead she bobbed her head faster and faster, lashing her tongue against him until he all but screamed, his hips rising from the bed as his back arched in a curve Fibonacci would be envious of, the beautiful, creamy thickness of his passion coating the cavern of her mouth.

Dracaena drained him of every drop as if her life depended on it, relishing the way he quivered and whined, his body tensing and relaxing with each new flick of her tongue until she raised her head at last, his pale, freckled skin flushed a gorgeous rose, an arm draped across his forehead. She slid up his body to lie beside him, brushing his hair back and wrapping her arms around him as he curled into her, panting.

“You okay?” she breathed, and he huffed a breathless laugh.

“If… if I’d have known… if I had to go… to Azkaban for that…” he nuzzled into her. “I’d have… gone… long ago.”

Dracaena chuckled softly, winding her hand through his hair as he relaxed against her.

“Drac,” he murmured. “I… should have… told you. Back then… I should have said…”

“Shh,” she whispered. “You need to sleep, love.”

“I know,” he replied, already drifting. “But… I should have said… I love you, Drac. I… I always have.”

She held him close.

“I love you too,” she breathed as he slipped into sleep. “Forever and always, I love you.”

Masterlist

Part 2

[aballadforbarbatos]

lighthouse

a hanahaki piece from mephistopheles’ point of view. i’m using my thought template (? is that what you’d call it?) which can be found here.

if you’d like a more classic piece using the version everyone knows, i can publish something like that too! just let me know!

this was based on a poll; if you’d like spoilers for the type of ending, you can see the results here.

word count: 2.7k+

when he walks into the house of lamentation, he finds it absolutely trashed. dirt looks like it’s piling up in the corners and the few plants you look after are either overgrown or on the brink of death.

there are holes in the walls. he can only assume these are the result of fits of rage, probably from satan, but mephistopheles has no idea what could’ve pushed him over the edge. sobbing echoes from up the stairs. the exact brother that those tears belong to remains a mystery to him.

he’s been on a trip away with nobles. honestly, it was rather boring- and he’d still be on it, were it not for the summoning from diavolo.

goodness. they call you the devilsitter, but you’re not doing a very good job at it. how could you have let the place get into such a state? what, have you gone up to the human world or something? but then he would have been notified. wouldn’t you have… wouldn’t you have told him?

you would’ve told him, right? you wouldn’t have left him in the dark. no, not him. you couldn’t bear not letting him know. as he picks his way through the dirt and trash and debris, he obsesses over this idea for a while, only getting it together when he lies his eyes on diavolo.

“diavolo, you wanted me for something?”

beyond diavolo, he spots lucifer next. the man looks exhausted, and his eyes are red. his movements are sluggish and he has a pile of paperwork in one hand and what looks like coffee in the other, like he’s trying to distract himself from something.

“why is mephisto here?” mammon asks from the couch. “does he even like MC?”

stupid question. he doesn’t grace it with an answer.

thirteen appears next, and mephistopheles suddenly gets a bad feeling. in a wrecked house with similar inhabitants, having a reaper here can only be bad. who is she here to reap?

who…

“i’m sorry, mephistopheles. thirteen thought you might be helpful. i’m sure she’ll fill you in on the way there.”

if not for the fact that death and its subsequent mourning feels like it’s about to engulf the entirety of the house of lamentation, he might’ve turned around and walked out of the house. here at the whim of someone else? really?

he numbly follows thirteen down the hall instead.

she delivers the awful news he expects. it’s you. of course it’s you. human lives are so fleeting, and their bodies aren’t quite as robust as their celestial counterparts. a good chunk of them can’t even use magic. you couldn’t use magic when you arrived!

knowing all this doesn’t stop his heart from cracking when she says your name. doesn’t stop his stomach from twisting. in a most un-noble way, it doesn’t stop him from throwing up in the hall. she looks at him with pity.

no, don’t pity him. he doesn’t need or want that.

with a quick chant, the vomit is gone, and mephistopheles continues on to your room, his stride just a little faster.

she explains to him that it’s hanahaki, a human world disease that stems from unrequited love. this information came from satan rather than solomon, surprisingly. when he asks what that has to do with him, she says that if the person you love confesses to you, the disease will disappear on its own.

she says that everyone has already confessed. everyone except for him.

i don’t have feelings for them. it’s what he wants to say, but the words get stuck in his throat. he’s always aimed to share the truth; have all those years of denying what he really feels now caught up to him? or maybe it’s because he risks bringing your death faster. you know, if the target of your affections is him.

but also, why would it be him? you don’t see him enough. shouldn’t you have fallen for one of the brothers instead? is there a secret one that hasn’t confessed yet? mammon’s always denying his obvious feelings for you. maybe he’s lied about confessing to you. maybe he hasn’t confessed at all. or, or, there could be a secret eighth brother!

thirteen opens the door to your room and ushers him in.

she explained it all on the way here, but it doesn’t prepare him for the sight. even if he had all the time in the world, mephistopheles doubts that he could ever be prepared for something like this.

your chest heaves, and what follows is a violent cough that grates against his ears. after a few moments of silence, the sound of your breathing returns, shallow and raspy. aside from your breathing and coughing, your body is completely still. it’s like you’re already dead.

“how long do they have left?” he asks. she has access to the candles. she should know.

“that would ruin the fun, wouldn’t it?” a dark joke that’s obviously an attempt to comfort herself, judging by the tears in her eyes. not long. maybe it’s worse for her, knowing when your time is supposed to come. she could always pour more wax on your candle, extending your life- but also prolonging your suffering. stuck between a rock and a hard place, he doesn’t envy her.

the most noticeable feature you have is the bunch of flowers sprouting from your face. deep purple petals with a green pistil in the middle. he knows that shade of green too well. he sees it whenever he looks in the mirror. his breath hitches.

“everyone has confessed,” thirteen whispers. “except for you.”

and with that, she leaves, closing the door behind her.

you start coughing again, and mephistopheles feels tears beginning to prick his own eyes. suddenly feeling quite lost, he drops to his knees and takes your hand. it’s cold. stiff. he’s amazed that you’re still here, even as you roleplay a corpse. is this the indomitable human will…?

“MC,” he begins, but doesn’t quite know where to go from there. another flower blooms. they cover your face completely, a little like a veil. he wonders if your eyes are glassy beneath it, lacking the sparkle that they normally hold. he wonders, if the flowers weren’t there, you’d be able to see anything at all.

he decides to stop wondering.

“MC,” he tries again. “i know we didn’t see each other a lot, but-”

his words fail again and he watches his hands shake. he’s probably just imagining it, but it seems like your fingers tighten just a little around his hand. the indomitable human will. a cliche where love conquers all. he presses your hand against his forehead and quietly breaks into sobs.

it’s not fair.

it’s not fair.

it’s not fair that his noble status means that he’s expected to marry someone of equal “value”, and it’s not fair that he doesn’t get to see you that often, his time taken up by schoolwork and newspaper club duties and noble duties and then someone is always hoarding your time anyway, and it’s not fair that he’s already being pushed away and it’s not fair that diavolo is obviously crushing on you and your love being requited, if it really is him, would just end up with him being pushed away more.

it’s probably more acceptable for you to be with an angel than with him.

he wonders what it was like for the others when it came to falling for you. maybe the realisation was soft. fluffy. like falling onto a bed of feathers, a warm fuzzy feeling flooding their brain. what is it like, being allowed to fall in love with you? is it as beautiful as he imagines it to be?

the realisation hit him when he was taking a photo of you for the school newspaper. though the lighting was terrible and the backdrop was even worse, you still looked gorgeous. ethereal. perfect. if it were anyone else, he never would've entertained the idea- but because it was you, he'd snapped a picture, and showed it to you, saying that he'd like to make it the front page photo. you’d laughed, saying you looked awful and to take a better one. put those centuries of photography expertise to good use!

it was like hitting concrete after a long fall. it felt like being torn apart and set alight and ripped to shreds all at once. he resigned himself to being unhappy forever, because you’d surely take to someone that you see far more often than him, and he’d be stuck on the sidelines watching it all happen. he tried to distance himself, but it didn’t work and how could it when you kept making excuses to see him?

he admires the flowers. limited time has cursed them. your short lifespan, his lack of free hours from duties and responsibilities and extra work, kindly piled on by lucifer, and now the clock is ticking away on him yet again because he can’t spit the fucking words out.

at least if you die, the flowers will stay. an eternal reminder of you, and what he couldn’t have. how ironic.

ah. he should be used to it by now. aside from the money and the title, which are only more chains, he has nothing. his little brother is a small comfort. he can’t keep his childhood friend, he can’t keep his position, he can’t even keep you, and you want to be kept.

mephistopheles sucks in a breath, desperate to gain some semblance of stability, but it doesn’t work. his parents will be disappointed, and everyone else will hate him, with the exception of perhaps luke and his lovely little brother. diavolo won’t ever look at him again, probably completely disgusted, and then he’d be completely lost. tears are streaming down his face.

he’s so pathetic.

that’s not an exaggeration. you’re on death’s door, and he has the power to save you, and he can’t because he’s afraid. he doesn’t deserve someone like you. you, who goes above and beyond when it’s needed. you, who wasn’t immediately turned off by his attitude. you, whom he loves.

he recalls something that you said to him when you were telling him about your plan to massively prank lucifer. he remembers asking you if you’re not afraid of the consequences- you’d laughed at him, but not cruelly.

the only thing to fear is fear itself!

all that time he spent talking down on you and humans. through his heartbreak, he lets out a gentle sigh, resigning himself to the future.

maybe it won’t be as bad as it seems. maybe you’ll make the consequences lighter. maybe with your presence, he can hallucinate his life getting better. maybe, maybe, maybe. maybe he could learn to hope again, instead of uselessly grasping at straws. he chokes out the words, pressing your cold, stiff hand to his forehead. your breathing has slowed. your coughing has stopped.

like it could ever be that easy.

maybe…

maybe he’s too late.

mephistopheles feels like he's watching what’s probably the last of your candle burn out, his heart threatening to shatter. your chest heaves again, and he prepares himself, ready for the horrible hacking noise that’ll follow.

but it never comes.

instead, he feels your grip on his fingers tighten. it’s only a little, but it’s there. he didn’t imagine it. that was real. he’s too young and it’s too early to be hallucinating you doing things, so that was definitely absolutely real.

right?

there’s a soft exhale that he barely hears, and he watches the flowers begin to wither and decay. his heartbroken and absolutely pitiful tears turn into happier ones as warmth returns to your hand and life begins to flood back into your body.

he doesn’t move from your side, amazed at how quickly you’re recovering. it’s your breathing that he finds he’s most excited about, the hoarseness quickly disappearing.

you turn your head to him. even with the flowers gone, you look absolutely exhausted. perhaps that’s to be expected.

“say that again.”

it comes a lot easier the second time.

“i love you, MC. to the moon and back.”

a smile tugs at your lips. “i love you too.”

it takes him a while to come out of the room. you want to come with him, and are too stubborn to stay on your bed, complaining that it’s boring and you’ve already been there for days. unfortunately, you’re too weak to stand on your own (not that he’s particularly surprised), so you end up leaning quite heavily on him instead.

very slowly, you make it out of the room. thirteen’s outside, probably waiting for the bad news.

“finished?”

“sorry, thirteen.” you grin weakly. “i’m still alive.”

still alive and walking, which he’ll probably get told off for letting you do. he thinks about it briefly and instead lifts you up so that he can walk faster he’s supporting your legs with one arm and your back with the other. the reaper purses her lips as her tears finally spill over.

“this makes it quite difficult to hug them, you realise.”

“they’re too weak for hugging.”

“i could probably manage a little hug-”

“you’re too weak for hugging.”

you huff out a laugh. “whatever you say...”

you don’t comment on the state of the house as he carries you to the common room, thirteen animatedly talking beside him. mephistopheles tries hard not to look down; he knows you’ll be staring at him adoringly, finally free to.

the only people still in the common room are mammon, diavolo, and barbatos. lucifer must’ve gone to his office to drown himself in paperwork. thankfully, mammon’s scream (thirteen held her hands over your ears, but he’s not sure it did much) alerts everyone in the house. one after the other, people appear in the doorway, their eyes wide and red.

levi looks like he’s cried so much that he can’t cry anymore, and yet he still manages to summon some tears as he sees you flowerless.

“you can all go back to school now. isn’t that exciting?” you laugh, and belphie looks at you dryly, obviously unimpressed by the idea.

“ha. you’re so funny, MC.”

mephisto looks down to see a weak smile gracing your face. then something shifts in you and you start complaining.

“i feel like a newborn baby, being stared at like this.”

“i can set you down, if you like,” he offers, and you shake your head, snuggling further into his chest. he wonders if you can hear his heart pounding.

“no thank you. i like being in your arms. by the way, this hold is called the bridal style carry in the human world.”

mephistopheles very nearly drops you at that.

and much later on, after many games of rock paper scissors and many ties between thirteen and satan when it came to feeding you (you probably could’ve done it yourself), diavolo pulls him aside for a walk.

here it comes. the rejection.

mephisto braces himself.

“you know, i think they’ll be good for you.”

…?

“diavolo?”

he laughs. “what, did you think i was going to punish you, or something? it’s not like it’s something you can control, falling in love.” there’s a pause. “i hope you didn’t beat yourself up too badly before you confessed.”

ah. so he went through something similar. perhaps there’s a shared understanding between demons of higher rank that he’d previously overlooked.

“also-” the prince musters up a grin. “they’d be pretty damn annoyed to know if you did.”

bonus:

as he returns from his walk, he sees you leaning on satan, waiting for his return. except you only look at him once, mouth “watch this”, and focus your gaze entirely on diavolo.

mephistopheles wonders if he should be worried.

given that it’s you, the answer is probably a resounding yes.

“diavolo,” you begin, fidgeting. “i was wondering if i could maybe get a present? you know, since i nearly died.”

diavolo’s eyes light up. “absolutely! anything you want, it’s yours!”

“anything?”

“anything.”

your eyes gleam with cunning. he wonders if maybe he should stop you from taking advantage of the literal ruler of devildom, but you did just come back from playing a dead body, so…

“then, could you make mephisto the president of the newspaper club again?”

the temperature of the room gets several degrees colder as lucifer glowers from the corner. diavolo only laughs before granting your request and whispering to him:

“see? good for you.”

mephistopheles watches you smile triumphantly.

maybe everything really will be okay after all.

[battyaboutbooksreviews]

🌈 Queer Books Coming Out in October 2024 🌈

🌈 Good afternoon, my bookish bats! Here are a FEW of the stunning, diverse queer books you can add to your TBR before the year is over. Happy reading!

❓What was the last queer book you read?

[ Release dates may have changed. List below! ]

❤️ Back in the Hunt - K. Sterling 🧡 The Connoisseur's Christmas Courtship - L.M. Bennett 💛 Shoestring Theory - Mariana Costa 💚 The Black Hunger - Nicholas Pullen 💙 Wild Fire - Radclyffe 💜 Because Fat Girl - Lauren Marie Fleming ❤️ The Ace and Aro Relationship Guide - Cody Daigle-Orians 🧡 Soul Survivors - River Kai 💛 Stolen Hearts - Michele Castleman 💙 Reverence - Milena McKay 💜 Love Immortal - Kit Vincent

❤️ Take a Sad Song - Ona Gritz 🧡 Showmance - Chad Beguelin 💛 Redundancies & Potentials - Dominique Dickey 💚 Alexander - Karla Nikole 💙 Rest in Peaches - Alex Brown 💜 Rise of the Wrecking Crew - Kalynn Bayron ❤️ Language Lessons - Sage Donnell 🧡 Legend of the White Snake - Sher Lee 💛 Sorcery and Small Magis - Maiga Doocy 💙 Cried Out - Kate Hawthorne 💜 Skysong - C.A. Wright 🌈 No Rules Tonight - Kim Hyun Sook, Ryan Estrada

❤️ My Mother's Ridiculous Rules for Dating - Philip William Stover 🧡 I Shall Never Fall in Love - Hari Conner 💛 Castle Swimmer - Wendy Martin 🧡 The Hollow and the Haunted - Camilla Raines 💙 How Does That Make You Feel, Magda Eklund? - Anna Montague 💜 The Arizona Triangle - Sydney Graves ❤️ Every Rule Undone - Nancy S.M. Waldman 🧡 Mister Nice - Jamie Jennings 💛 Under the Mistletoe with You - Lizzie Huxley-Jones 💙 How to Fall in Love in a Time of Unnameable Disaster - Muriel Leung 💜 The Snowball Effect - Haley Cass 🌈 This Will Be Fun - E.B. Asher

❤️ Our Evenings - Alan Hollinghurst 🧡 Don't Let the Forest In - C.G. Drews 💛 Finding Delaware - Bree Wiley 💚 The Reeds - Arjun Basu 💙 The Bloodless Princes - Charlotte Bond 💜 Women's Hotel - Daniel M. Lavery ❤️ Alex McKenna and the Academy of Souls - Vicki-Ann Bush 🧡 A Vile Season - David Ferraro 💛 Synchronicity - J.J. Hale 💙 Writ of Love - Cassidy Crane 💜 Di-Curious - Erin Branch 🌈 Swordcrossed - Freya Marske

❤️ Stand Up! - Tori Sharp 🧡 Haunt Me, Baby - Rose Santoriello 💚 Planet Drag: Uncover the Global Herstory - Various 💙 Until We Shatter - Kate Dylan 💜 Metal from Heaven - August Clarke ❤️ Vicious Fates and Vast Futures - Tilly Bramley 🧡 The Daughter of Danray - Natalia Hernandez 💛 If I Stopped Haunting You - Colby Wilkens 💙 The Darkness Behind The Door - Mira Gonzalez 💜 Hunt Monsters, Do Magic, and Fall in Love - A.M. Weald 🌈 Jasmine Is Haunted - Mark Oshiro

❤️ Model Home - Rivers Solomon 🧡 Haunting Melody - Chloe Spencer 💛 The Door in Lake Mallion - S.M. Beiko 💚 The City in Glass - Nghi Vo 💙 Fang Fiction - Kate Stayman-London 💜 The Merriest Misters - Timothy Janovsky ❤️ Make the Season Bright - Ashley Herring Blake 🧡 My Kind of Trouble - L.A. Schwartz 💛 To Become A Flower - CEON 💙 What Was Lost - Melissa Connelly 💜 The Forbidden Book - Sacha Lamb 🌈 This Dark Paradise - Erin Luken

❤️ The Sound of Storms - Anya Keeler 🧡 Country Queers - Rae Garringer 💛 A Spell for Heartsickness - Alistair Reeves 💚 The Stars Inside Us - Kristy Gardner 💙 October's Ocean - Delaine Coppock 💜 Haunt Your Heart Out - Amber Roberts ❤️ The Dark Becomes Her - Judy I. Lin 🧡 Power Pose - Emily Silver 💛 The Magic You Make - Jason June 💙 House of Elephants - Claribel A. Ortega 💜 Tegan and Sara: Crush - Tegan Quin, Sara Quin, Tillie Walden 🌈 The Brightness Between Us - Eliot Schrefer

❤️ The Spring before Obergefell - Benjamin S. Grossberg 🧡 Pray For Him - Tyler Battaglia 💛 Coup de Grâce - Sofia Ajram 💚 Coal Gets In Your Veins - Cat Rector 💙 He Who Bleeds - Dorian Valentine 💜 The Revenge of Captain Vessia - Leslie Allen ❤️ Camelot's Tower - Brooke Matthews 🧡 The Manor - Tiffany E. Taylor 💛 Arcanum - Ashlyn Drewek 💙 Strange Beasts - Susan J. Morris 💜 On Vicious Worlds - Bethany Jacobs 🌈 Death Song - B. Ripley

❤️ Best Hex Ever - Nadia El-Fassi 🧡 I'll Be Gone for Christmas - Georgia K. Boone 💛 Make My Wish Come True - Rachael Lippincott, Alyson Derrick 💚 Gentlest of Wild Things - Sarah Underwood 💙 Troth - E.H. Lupton 💜 Solis - Paola Mendoza & Abby Sher ❤️ Lucy, Uncensored - Mel Hammond, Teghan Hammond 🧡 Mama - Nikkya Hargrove 💛 Under All the Lights - Maya Ameyaw 💙 Reclaimed - Seth Haddon 💜 The Devil's Dilemma - Alex J. Adams 🌈 The Jovian Madrigals - Janneke de Beer

❤️ Blood Price - Nicole Evans 🧡 Worship Me - K.C. Blume 💛 All the Hearts You Eat - Hailey Piper 💚 The Nightmare Before Kissmas - Sara Raasch 💙 Rogue Community College - David R. Slayton 💜 Mistress of Hours - Emma Elizabeth ❤️ The Dog Trainer's Secret - Sav Uong 🧡 Most Wonderful - Georgia Clark 💛 Antenora - Dori Lumpkin 💙 House of Frank - Kay Synclaire 💜 Sir Callie and the Witch's War - Esme Symes-Smith 🌈 Prince of Fortune - Lisa Tirreno

[666writingcafe]

Quick-Fire Headcanons (1)

Inspired by prompts from OC question accounts. Tried to go for stuff that wouldn't be so obvious. Requests are open.

Levi has quite the green thumb.

Lucifer, Mammon, and Simeon all have horrible seasonal allergies.

Lucifer will win just about any group bet (because his pride will not allow him to lose).

Diavolo goofs around so much during any game being played that he always loses, but he's totally cool with it.

Simeon does not like to lose, especially if the winner cheated.

Diavolo somehow makes everything a drinking game.

Lucifer has the misfortune of falling for every single rick-roll that comes his way.

Satan has a "secret" plush toy collection (that Asmo and Lucifer know about).

Belphie would threaten to get everyone in a small space sick if they were being overly obnoxious.

Mammon brags all the time about objectively insignificant stuff.

Satan and Simeon will team up in a social media war if someone aggravated them enough.

Asmo will make up lyrics if he doesn't know the words to a song (and claim that his version is better than the original).

Beel does not have the fine motor skills necessary to sew properly, and he will mess up every time he attempts to do even the simplest of projects.

Solomon can never be in charge of giving someone directions, because he will intentionally lead them astray every single time.

Barbatos' bedroom (not the room where the time doors are, but the room that he actually sleeps in) is an absolute wreck.

[wordsvomit101]

My whb mc/oc

Her name is Byul, my baby, my kinnie, my girly pop, and my hellspawn (affectionate)

She was created by Solomon so he is by definition, her father/mother. She has been to Hell before but after her father disappeared she sort of wanders around on Earth on her own for a long time. Also forgot her original name because it had been so long since anyone call her by the name Solomon gave her.

She met Minhyeok by chance when he was young, he was lost while he was out camping with his family. She found him crying to himself by a tree at night in the woods then both protected and guided him back to his family. She was tricked into being adopted by Minhyeok after being lured by good food.

She is a menace and I love her, the snob that loves you, even when she destroys your shit and eats your food but will protect you with her life on the line without hesitation. Can handle things herself but loves being spoiled, is clever but WILL act dumb if it benefits her.

I should also make a confession. She is my stand-in for MC, her entire being is magic from Solomon (with a little bit of God's help), so she can use magic and is very well-equipped to handle whatever Hell and Heaven can throw at her. No human form (unless April Fool's magic bibbidi bobbidi booing her into having one) so no bam-bam in the ham or boning. But yeah, she is what I want to be, a literal demon- I mean a spoiled cat that can scratch and wreck things however she wants and get away with it, eat whatever she wants, and sleep whenever she wants.

I'm not a big fan of Ra-on/MC's writing in canon, and her personality is like a hot wet noodle. It is also hard for me to actually feel intimate with 95% of the characters (I prefer to watch them without MC in their stories), and I usually just skip the H-scene cause it doesn't make me feel anything or sometimes just outright uncomfortable. So when I don't particularly comfortable with some scene I just imagine my girl Byul there, being her chaotic self and not taking shit from anyone and just living her best life.

[elaemae]

The premium version of human is here to wreck house, mfs.

Chp.2

[TwstxObeyme!AFAB!reader]

Whoa.. 😳

Thanks for the feedback, likes and reblogs guys~ It really makes me happy that my hard work is appreciated😊

Guys, what gender should my story's Yuu be in? It's quite hard to refer to two different characters with both gender neutral pronouns 😅

READ FIRST; PROLOGUE:1

• • • •

Again; Pronouns used to refer to MC are blue, because MC will be mistaken for a guy a lot.

SYNOPSIS:

With the Opening Ceremony going off the rails for a second time, MC is more than eager to get back home and probably binge-watch their stress away with their emotionally-repressed boys.

Though with the current situation right now, they don't think that will be happening soon.. Oh well, at least they're not the only otherworldly outlier here... *Nightbringer flashbacks intensifies*

$o|0m°N?

On the other hand, Yuu makes a new friend.

Yuu doesn't know if this makes them a problematic person or not, but Yuu is happy that there's someone else in a similar predicament as them in this strange world, even if it meant that their new companion also had to be kidnapped by a problematic school/lowkey-highkey a cult to be here as well.

But of course, there's trouble in the horizon as the whole fiasco in the mirror ceremony caused the students of NRC to keep a close and careful gaze onto the MC. I'm talkin' from but not limited to; The Fish Mafia, Queen of hearts and Evil queen Incarnates, even down to your perfectly normal 500+ year old war-veteran that looks like a child.

Meanwhile, The Devildom, Human world, and The Celestial realm are feeling a sense of something foreboding in the air... It's probably nothing though.. right?......right?? The calm before the storm. Or the calm before anyone barges into MC's room.

Prologue: 2 Electric-boogaloo

Watching the mysterious and somewhat confused-looking student continuously dodge Riddle and Azul's spells with a calm expression, sharp gaze and a frightening precision, Lilia is waiting for the perfect time to jump in.

Preferably when the student ran in front of him so that he could tackle him to the ground.

Crowley isn't doing anything but screech. Again.

Haah....

• • • •

Azul's smile widens when this ever mysterious new student blocks Riddles' Signature spell by quickly spinning his fancy staff into a make-shift shield once again. what an interesting staff, transforming from a necklace into a cane that can be used for offense and defense..

Azul straight up grins he can see Schoenheit's smile and Kingscholar's shit-eating smirk from here, as well as hear Shroud's maniacal giggles when Riddle screeches at the student to just cooperate and that "NO WE ARE NOT A CULT!!!!" "That's what cults always say!"

Prompting a round of laughter from the useles– *ehem* new students in the hall. How annoying..

What an amusing lad.. Though, Azul wonders.. can all his other jewelry transform as well? Besides the earrings, choker, necklace and forehead ornament that he's wearing, the student also has a ring in his middle finger and in both of his ring fingers, a wide bracelet, and even some bangles in his ankles.

And if all of those jewels can transform into something?....Ohhh, then he really needs to get his hands on them asap.

Seeing Lilia gearing up to jump the student, Azul shifted a bit and tried to lead the student closer to Lilia.

Help idk how to describe shit💀

You click your tongue as you got surrounded by Mr. bird-bitch, that red-mf, Solomon-but-from-wish, Columbina's cousin, lion-dude, "I'm a bad-bitch with a sad past" guy, and a floating tablet.

You ended up getting bound by the bird-bitch's whip the moment you tried to leap off a window in your belphie-escaping-his-responsibilities style. Your pact mark of pride flickered, and Lucifer wonders what MC could be dreaming about for their pride to have taken a hit at this time of the night.

You turned your staff back into a necklace by then, so you couldn't really block the whip and that redhead's spell from hitting you.

You had socked Walmart-Solomon in the face though when he sneakily tried to take one of your bangles while you were being yanked back from the window. Satan stirred in his sleep, feeling but not registering the creeping irritation under your skin.

So now you're here, with a collar for your troubles and a whip locking your arms to your body.

You're just about to resentfully summon Lucifer or something when the redhead who collared you with this uncomfortable fugly-ass neckwear started lecturing you and shit about etiquette and how disrespectful you are for trying to leap out the window and how you should be honored to be there blahblahblah���

Hell no. You ain't letting this short-pimp talk to you like this. (You should really stop hanging around too much with Asmo. Or Levi when he's being a hater on the internet.)

Satan stirred once again, starting to rouse from his slumber as he felt your irritation start to turn into embers of anger.

Lucifer furrows his brows, feeling a rush of indignity that can only have come from you. But why? Weren't you in bed? He hasn't felt you leave through any of the detection barriers he'd set up around your room so you should still be inside, right?

"I think it's much more disrespectful to have your fuckin horses kidnap someone straight from their goddamn bed just to attend a little ceremony they've never even heard of."

You narrow your eyes as you see the bird-man and goons look taken aback in varying degrees of obviousness. (A figure near the mirror perked-up; 'Maybe this person is in a similar situation as them!')

Bruh, what the fuck did they expect??

• • • • •

The Vice-prefects of all seven dorms have led the new students out of the Ceremony hall, leaving behind the five (sorry Mal. Also, Jamil's ass definitely dragged Kalim out with him.) dorm leaders with the headmaster to solve the issues of the sTiLl-uNdEr-tHe-efFecTs-oF-tHe-teLepoRtaTioN-sPelL new student who utterly refuses to cooperate with them.

Riddle is about to combust, Leona wants to go back to bed only to be dragged back by the headmaster—, Vil wants his beauty sleep but was dragged back by that petty bitch, Leona—, While Idia and Azul decided to stick around for their own personal reasons. ("He looks like an anime character—" "Brother, I don't think it's good to be taking pictures of someone without permission—" "AHH–! O-ORTHO?!")

While Yuu is.. hiding behind the mirror.

(The kinda-silver haired guy seems to be in his seventh ritual of making sure his face didn't get bruised from the solid right hook to the face he got.)

(Yuu would've felt bad for him if the guy didn't have such a shady smile on his face while he was massaging his punched jaw.)

Meanwhile...

"Oy human, it's me!"

Mammon knocked on MC's door, fully intent on bothering their sleep and cozying up on their bed again.

He waited for a few seconds, no answer.

He knocked again.

No answer.

... Look, it's not like The Great Mammon is worried or anything but this is strange..

The human always answers their door after a knock or two even if it's the middle of the night.

... Dammit.

Mammon is full of grumbles as he consciously sharpens his senses, tryna sense his the human.

They better not be ignoring him or he'll–

Wait.

What? W- wait a second..

• • • •

The quietness of the night in the House of Lamentation vanished as the sound of a door being busted down rang out.

It's other residents could barely even register the sound before a shout rang out. A shout that sent dread right into their cores.

"MC?!"

← Pr. 1 | Chapter List | Prologue 3 →

'What the?! Why can't I summon them??'

Elae: Hehe~ I'm back with some food~

Thanks for reading this far, I hope you enjoyed this chapter😊

Btw, do y'all want Yuu to be a love interest?

How do I tag ppl??

[melverie]

⸺ LESSON 9 ⸺

Solomon

Barbatos

demons & angels (& humans)

the 'MC is human' situation

records of a banshee

misc

- lesson 8 || lesson 10 || all posts so far -

HI I JUST WANT TO SAY THAT THE REBLOGS ON LESSON 8 ARE SO SWEET!!! <3333 I thought that this would mostly just be me throwing things around to help make sense of my own theory on NB's identity, but seeing that people are actually exited to see this back means a lot, so thank you guys <3 And sorry that this part once again took a little longer ;-; General spoiler warning for all of Obey Me Nightbringer, as well as for the original Obey Me

⸺ SOLOMON ⸺

Solomon finally made it back and just casusally brings a dragon egg back with him [9-2]. Sure. I'm not questioning his antics anymore; he's nowhere near to being my main Nightbringer candidate

Solomon makes the hypothesis that maybe Nightbringer is the reason we're here?! No way!! :o [9-2] -> but in all seriousness, it's nice that he's trying to tell us as much as possible of what he knows

Solomon claims that Diavolo can definitely be trusted [lesson 9 hard mode]. I'm actually taking his word here because 1. we know that Solomon cares a lot about MC and their safety, 2. we learn next lesson that Solomon has some sort of agreement going on with Nightbringer, and 3. that Nightbringer just threatened MC's safety. I just genuinely see no reason why he would lie about who is and who isn't trustworthy here

⸺ BARBATOS ⸺

Barbatos worrying about MC [9-8; pic below]

he tells us completely umpropted where Beelzebub is held captive [9-8; pic below] -> Solomon decides to follow him since he also wants to talk with Barbatos about the entire teleportation thing [9-8] -> both Barbatos and Solomon heading to where Beelzebub is held captive caused quite a headache for me...but we'll get to that next lesson!

⸺ DEMONS & ANGELS (& HUMANS) ⸺

illusion!Diavolo and illusion!Simeon fight over who should get to lead/support humans--demons or angels [9-A] -> also, illusion!Diavolo talks about leading humans to happiness. Leading someone else to happiness seems to be Nightbringer's favorite past time, would you look at that :)

⸺ THE 'MC IS HUMAN' SITUATION ⸺

taking this opportunity to just say how much I love serious Dia, thank you for listenting <3 (putting this in here because it's in regard to MC's expulsion since Diavolo found out they are a human) -> that being said, he mentions that his father entrusted the Devildom to him [9-7], but like,, when?? He literally fell into a coma?? Did he wake up in the middle of it like "oh by the way son, before I forget" and then passed tf out again???

⸺ RECORDS OF A BANSHEE ⸺

the brothers show up during Diavolo's talk about MC's expulsion and we learn that Beelzebub is now being held prisoner because he wrecked the castle at yesterday's dinner party [9-7]. This is the timeline of it all:

1. MC gets their letter summoning them to the Demon Lord's Castle [lesson 9 hard mode], and the brothers + Simeon and Luke participate in the dinner party at the Demon Lord's Castle. We don't know which one happens first 2. at some point during the dinner party, Lucifer talks about him aquiring a record of a banshee's song [9-14] -> according to the others, this caused Beelzebub to completely lose it, which ended up with him causing significant damage to the castle -> Belphegor later on mentions that something was wrong with Beelzebub at the time [9-7] 3. the next day, Beelzebub gets a letter summoning him to the Demon Lord's Castle and is imprisonened 4. after that, MC has their meeting with Diavolo and they talk about MC having to return to the human world 5. during that meeting, the brothers show up and demand for Beelzebub to be released 6. Lucifer basically gives up right after getting there (??? WHY did you even go there in the first place then, my guy???). Before he leaves, he tells Diavolo that ultimately, he doesn't accept them either -> Diavolo is distraught by this comment 7. Barbatos suggests continuing this meeting some other time and accompanies MC and Solomon a little. Before parting ways, he explicitly tells them where Beelzebub is being held captive 8. Solomon and MC split up; Solomon follows Barbatos to where Beelzebub is being imprisoned, and MC heads to the House of Lamentation to talk to the brothers and find out what happened

withholding my thoughts for now because there is one last detail happening in lesson 10 that kinda ties the entire thing together, but I will already say that based on how the characters present described the entire situation [9-14; all three pics below], Beelzebub's meltdown seems too big to be caused by the mention of a banshee

⸺ MISC ⸺

we now know why Mammon is so afraid of ghosts [9-2]

mandatory moment where I talk about my husband: a) Satan's first time seeing a cat, you love to see it <3 [9-10] b) can you hear the sound of my heart breaking? :< [9-8; pic below]

Satan's quote from the website! [9-10; pic below]

Belphegor tells MC about Lilith [9-16]

illusion!Luke says this [9-A; pic below]. HUH :D