#man-made leviathans

[luyo-mi]

them

[shloodles]

desperate

ID: a digital illustration of two original characters making out. van'izad, left, is a tall, fat elf with multiple eyes and white, wavy, braided hair. she is leaning over égil, right, bracing one hand on their thigh. she wears loose draping layers and jewelry. égil is a stocky dwarf with darker skin, and graying curly hair in a messy bun. they're tipping their head back for van'izad, legs open and hands braced behind them. they wear a practical collared shirt, trousers, and boots. the two of them look hungrily into each others eyes, a trail of spit dripping from their tongues. end ID

Van'izad belongs to @twilightdomain , Égil is mine 💕

[saed]

garnet rambles

what if garnet wanted to be a hero, what if garnet wanted to be a fixer just like vergilius but the further they went into that searching for lapis the further garnet was exposed to the reality of what being a fixer does to someone, and by the time it was too late, he could not turn back huh. what if he realized that it wasn't this fanatical thing and it wasn't as easy as telling himself he could do it yet he had too. because lapis was waiting, because vergilius was supporting him. what if in the moments before he dies, one of his many fleeting thoughts is "i'm sorry for wanting to be like you, vergilius" what if he realized the burden that would come with his death and where he failed to follow suit in the eyes of the man who raised him, of the man who he idolized to a pedestal that could've been so.. .. so isolating. and now his death will be nothing more than blood that can never be unwashed from vergs hands

its also like, what if garnets idolization of vergilius stemmed from the fact that he so badly wanted to be the son that vergilius could be proud of? and now that he died in such a way, he realized that now he will be nothing but yet another child from the orphanage he failed to protect. do you know how much that would break garnet ? yeah ok

[dragon-dress-128]

🌊Literal Fairy Leviathan🧚‍♀️

Could use a little updates when I think about it, but still a gorgeous look💅✨

[2af-afterdark]

Guess I'll cry

[mitta-likes-moths]

Constantly calling Levi gamer/fellow gamer saying gamer to gamer/lets go gamer is my passion

[stuck-in-the-ghost-zone]

ok since im not allowed to read the interlude until after work. let's talk about nhw mal or clarence or the trickster . or like. tide. i have like a half-written post abt tide and his siblings but honestly. how do I even WRITE THAT now that the endbringer situation is so fucked. omg. I feel like I need 2 go back to brainstorming abt them .

[c0ffeejelly1]

Manhandling him

Multiple character headcannon

Authors note: UGH pls this whole things was for jokes bc I can’t really be that ask to make something I feel is good. Teehee. Also I can mischaracterise all I want okay let a girl dream pls. (POST-TIMESKIP!!)

Warning: man it’s like the smallest hint of the nasty freaky stuff

“Babe, you got something on your face. Let me just…” You reach out to your boyfriend, making him look your way by gripping his chin firmly while you flick away a bit of ‘glitter’ from his cheek. “There you go.”

Strike one.

That was just the beginning of your strange behavior today.

“Hey baby, c’mere I wanna kiss…” you call him over from the other side of the kitchen counter, only to yank on his collar and pull him in for one hell of a snog. “Seriously, you have no business looking this good today.”

Strike two.

Just what was up with you today?

You just got home from work, and as he’s about to sit up to see you, you suddenly push him back down onto the couch, mumbling something about how much you “missed him”.

Strike three.

You run your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer to your lips, but then you pause to check out his face.

Perhaps you took this prank too far…

The type to be oddly into it

“…are you hard?”

This snaps your boyfriend out of his thoughts.

He’d never ever ever thought he could find himself in a situation like this. this is the kind of stuff you see in movies, right? I mean, come on!

Just picture how mortifying it is to be turned on from someone mistreating you! It’s pathetic!

He can’t just blurt out, ‘oh hell yeah I’m hard’ in response to that question—why would anyone even think to ask that? What can a guy do in a moment like this except deny it?

“What? N-no!…” He glances away, feeling the weight of your intense gaze. “…maybe?”

When you raise an eyebrow at him, his mask crumbles entirely. There’s no use in pretending.

You’ve already seen right through him, leaving him no option but to retreat into a shadowy corner and disappear.

“Yeah.” He responds, his voice tinged with disappointment. “I…I am.”

Maybe it’s because of the way you handled him like he was nothing that made him so bothered.

Maybe it was the way you looked so desperate to have him that did it for him.

Either way, he’s discovered something about himself he never knew he ever had.

And make no mistake, you were going to exploit this discovery to the fullest.

“Have I told you how much I love you babe?” You pull back from his face after practically devouring it as he stands there, grinning like a lovesick fool, dishes still in hand.

“I think you should tell me more.”

“Wrap up with those dishes, and I’ll give you a demonstration instead.”

Be ready for one hell of a night cowgirl. Wink wink

Charcters: serizawa, armin, EREN, REINER, ukai, ATSUMU, Osamu, Gojo, CHOSO, leviathan, SATAN, DIAVOLO, IIDA, denki, tamaki, CHILDE, Cyno, sanji, LAW

The type to think you’ve finally gone crazy

you call out to him, noticing he seems lost in his phone. Yet, oddly enough, he flinches slightly every time you speak.

This reaction occurs whenever you draw near him, as if your voice startles him, even when you're just a breath away. It’s not that he dislikes your voice; rather, it feels like he’s a bit intimidated by you now.

What happened to the confident guy who was with you just two days ago? Why does he seem to be tiptoeing around you like a child with a fragile toy?

“Y/N…is everything alright?” He approaches you cautiously, maintaining a bit of distance, trying to balance his interest with a hint of hesitation. “You’ve been…um, I just wanted to check—are you upset with me?”

“Upset with you?” You set your phone aside, raising an eyebrow at him. “Why would I be upset? Did you do something wrong?”

That’s the very question he’s grappling with. Your passionate touches and fervent kisses have left him bewildered about your feelings.

Are you so enamored that you can’t help yourself, or are you retaliating for something he might have done? Suddenly, a thought strikes him.

“…If this is about how intense things got last night, I’m sorry, but you did ask for it when I warned you I wouldn’t hold back—” His words are cut short as your hand swiftly covers his mouth.

“No! No that’s—just no. It was a prank babe, a trend I saw online” you say, removing your hand and placing both on his shoulders. “Last night has nothing to do with today or any other day.”

“Not even you complaining about being sore?”

“Not even me complaining about…wait I never did that!”

“Yeah buts it’s easy to tell.”

Charcters: REIGEN, giyuu, giyomei, JEAN, KAGEYAMA, hinata, kuroo, OIKAWA, AKAASHI, geto, NANAMI, Solomon, IZUKU, Diluc, LAIOS, zayne, LAW (Sowy I can see him as both)

The type to also manhandle you

Did you honestly believe you could manhandle him without facing the same treatment in return? Come on this is your boyfriend we’re talking about, In fact, I think he’s thrilled that you can boss him around so effortlessly.

So thrilled that he makes it into a competition

“Okay let’s see who tackles the first person on the bed.” His eyes shine with enthusiasm as he confidently places his hands on his hips. “If I win I get to have my way with you, and if you win, you get to have me have my way with you. Deal?”

You pause for a moment to process his words “…uh, how is that fair?”

“What do you mean?” he replies, brushing off your concern with a grin.

“I think it’s perfectly fair. No matter the outcome, you get a nice little reward, right?” His voice dances with mischief as he nudges you playfully with his elbow, clearly trying to elicit a reaction.

You roll your eyes at him, feigning annoyance, before relenting, “I guess it’s not so bad..”

“Exactly! Now, I’m going to count down. Ready? 3…2…” Before you can fully grasp what’s happening, he lunges at you, tackling you onto the bed before he even reaches 1.

“H-hey! That’s cheating, you can’t do that!” But your protests are ignored, your boyfriend already having you wrapped in his warm embrace, his face buried against your neck.

“This is what you get for how you’ve been treating me today.”

“What are you talking about?” You pause for a moment, though you suspect he’s finally caught on to your little scheme. “You mean me kissing you like any normal woman would with the love of her life?”

“No. Just you touching me all weirdly…”

“Don’t say it like that you make me sound like a perv.”

“Maybe cause you are.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

“…”

“…”

“I’m not.”

Charcters: RENGOKU, tengen, connie, NISHINOYA, hinata (yes again), kuroo (YESSS AGAIN), BOKUTO, TENDOU, MAMMON, DENKI (twice and what), kirishima, ITTO, rafayel, LUFFY

The type…yeah you ain’t doing that

Screw everything I just said in the intro. If you genuinely think you can manhandle this man and succeed. You’re crazy.

“Hey, come here, you’ve got something—” The moment your hand nears his face, he seizes your wrist, staring at you as if you’ve just committed a serious offense.

“What are you doing?”

“Uh…I’m trying to like get the little speck of glitter off your face.”

“We don’t own glitter?”

“Dust then?” He shoots you a skeptical glance.

“…sure.”

So that was an absolute fail…

But you’re not ready to throw in the towel just yet. No way! You just need to bide your time until nightfall, when he’s all soft and cuddly. That’s when you’ll make your move.

As the evening unfolds and you’re prepping for bed in the bathroom, you catch sight of him reaching for something in the cupboard above you. This is your moment. The time to pull him in close and—

SMACK

“The hell? What was that for?” He rubs his forehead, clearly taken aback by your sudden move.

Who knew kissing your boyfriend could be this complicated? Somehow, you ended up colliding headfirst into him, and now he’s clearly fed up with you.

“That wasn’t how it was supposed to go…” you say with a shy smile, nervously scratching the back of your head. “You alright?”

You gently move his hand away from his forehead to check for any damage, and to your surprise, he lets you.

Wait a minute… you actually moved his hand, and he’s okay with it? Is this manhandling? I think it’s manhandling. It’s manhandling.

“…I did it.”

“Did what?”

“I touched you!”

“??”

Pls stop confusing this man he’s already tired enough.

Charcters: dimple, akashi, MIDORIMA, aomine, sanemi, KAGEYAMA (yes again), TSUKISHIMA, iwaizumi, TOJI, LUCIFER, bakugou, AIZAWA, sylus, ZORO

[innerchildabortionclinic]

Thanks to donations from users on here, @eyad-alanqe223 was able to set up a charity in Gaza called Ever Mile.

Eyad's family has lost everything in the relentless attacks on Gaza. His father's business was destroyed and he lives in a tent with his family, vulnerable to the cold. Despite these conditions, he is fighting not only for his family's survival, but others suffering from the genocide in Gaza. Donations here will assist both charity work necessary for survival and help Eyad's family get back on their feet.

I have made this poll related to age for a reason--many young people especially are suffering in Gaza right now, so if you did stop scrolling to vote in the poll, I hope you can donate/share the post as well.

Tagging some people for reach:

@hotvampireadjacent @leviathan-supersystem @yekkes @ovur @prisonhannibal @allpinsandneedles @sexhaver @determinate-negation @frottinq @halorvic @zoology @zvaigzdelasas @xenosagaepisodeone @tamamita @omegaversereloaded

[akuzondotcom]

Obey Me! Brothers Eyes ft; My HCs. More info on My HCs listed below!!

Lucifer:

Lucifer I wanted to look the most Mature and Handsome. I gave him slit eye pupils and ocular scarring on one eye. I imagine he got his cross shaped scar in the war, it being a mark of a curse his Father laid upon him. Because of this curse, which I imagine to be mortality, I made him look slightly sickly, with translucent skin and pallor. I imagine he’s only got a few thousand more years left to live.

Mammon:

Mammon I gave golden freckles and one golden eye. I imagine he got this eye colour from an attempted spell to try and make his eyes turn golden in hue. However because he failed his spell classes, I imagine this failed, giving him heterochromia and 50/50 heterochromia in one eye. Lucifer scolded him for his reckless behaviours. Also I HC him as Aboriginal Australian, has nothing to do with his eyes specifically but I wanted an excuse to say that lol.

Leviathan:

I Imagine Leviathan has the least humanoid Demon form (it being a massive aquatic reptile) as such he struggles to maintain a convincing human form. This shows through with his eyes, them being dark and unblinking. I imagine instead of traditional blinking he has a nicitating membrane that covers his eyes from dirt and debris. He does however require eye drops to moisten his eyes when he’s away from water. I also imagine some of his scale pattern is still visible in his human form, Showing mainly around his eyes, neck, back legs and arms.

Satan:

Satan is the most humanoid of the demon brothers. Having light freckles, regular rounded pupils, and a more youthful appearance then his other brothers. The only sign something is different is the sigil in his eye, a sign of a spell he performed to grant himself more power.

Asmodeus:

(Note I HC Asmo uses any pronouns so I may use she or they when talking about him) Asmo was difficult as I picture her as a shapeshifter, them changing their body suit the trends. However I decided his most common form has rounded feminine features, long spiky lashes, and few demonic features that he deans cute (black sclera, slit pupils, pointed ears and sharp fangs etc). I imagine they wear light makeup, just enough to accentuate her features.

Beelzebub:

Beel has mostly humanoid features, save for his eyes. Instead of having a pupil and iris, he has one large multi compound pupil. Meaning instead of seeing one large image he sees thousands of tiny images, like a fly. Because of this I imagine he’s short sighted, and colour blind. However he is amazing at noticing form movement. Again much like a fly. Also my friend HCs him as a light skin black man so I do as well :).

Belphagor:

Belphie I wanted to make slightly more intimidating. I wanted to make him look gaunt and sickly, experiencing pallor, and with his eyes more deep-set. I also imagine his eyes have a spiral in them, one that if you stare into to long you can’t help but sleep. Also again, same friend HCs him as black so I do as well lol. Shout out to my boy Kris.

The Rest of the Casts eyes are coming soon. But for now we have the brothers!! Lemme know your HCs and who knows maybe I might take them on board lol.

[m1ckeyb3rry]

LEVIATHAN I: ECHOES IN A SHALLOW BAY

Series Synopsis: The sea spits you out at Phainon’s feet and tells him to save you. You wonder if he will ever regret that he falls to his knees and obliges.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Phainon x F!Reader, Mydei x F!Reader

Chapter Word Count: 9.9k

Content Warnings: it’s me again writing for amphoreus baddies despite being like an eighth of the way through 3.0 AT THE MOST, fantasy au (amphoreus?? i hardly KNOW us), i make up lore + magic because i can, i world build also because i can, random luocha relevance fsr, amnesia trope, love triangle (we are not getting both at the same damn time i fear), violence and blood and whatnot most likely, screwy timeline bullshit, screwy spatial bullshit (this makes no sense but it will), an ending i personally would not consider angsty but some might, don’t ask me who’s endgame i oscillate sm it’ll probably just be left vague, wherever you think this is going it definitely isn't, slapping that ooc warning on here because who even am i without her (it's really bad this time though SLDKHF sorry)…

A/N: guys i thought i knew fear posting part one of threefold but no THIS is fear LMAOAOA i'm subjecting you all to my slop T_T...i don't love this by any means in fact i on the whole despise it but whatever sometimes you just gotta post anyways #enjoy farmer phainon 😭 I WILL LOCK IN FOR LATER PARTS I PROMISE

Sand slipped between your fingers as you scrabbled for purchase, dragging yourself out of the vicious currents which clawed at your legs, wailing and trying to pull you back to where your certain death awaited. Your side screamed in protest, and with a low groan, you pressed one hand to the weeping wound in an attempt to silence it, your stomach roiling from the sticky sensation of blood gathering at the site of the frayed, greening flesh.

With only one arm left free, you continued to pull yourself up the shore, but you made it a scant few paces before your trembling wrist gave out entirely, leaving you to collapse, your cheek pressed to the rough, crumbling bits of shell that littered the coast. The tide licked at your ankles victoriously, and you were dimly aware of tears gathering in the corners of your eyes as they fluttered shut and the great song of your doom filled your ears, echoing somewhere deep in your bones like an army’s march.

Each pump of your heart was fainter than the last until your pulse all but crawled to a stop, and although the roar of the beast was in a foreign and guttural tongue, you understood what it was saying anyways: end. Your end was here, and there would be no one to witness this demise, no one to cradle your body and decorate it with anemones so that you were suitably beautiful for your journey to the underworld. 

“Hey!” 

You wanted to tell the man that he should leave you to die, that there was no need for him to run when there was nothing he could do to change this outcome, but his voice was so sweet and dear that you could not stop the burst of inspiration which compelled you to push yourself up and watch him as he sprinted barefoot across the beach towards you, his alarm palpable even from such a distance.

“Who are you?” he said as he knelt by your side, shielding you from the sun and the sea alike. The clamor surrounding you quieted when met with the heaviness of his vast, boundless irises, and as the rest of the world darkened into nothing, everything you had ever known dissipating as readily as mist in the morning, you focused only on the skies contained in his worried gaze.

“How beautiful you are,” you said, and then you were coughing and he was gasping and you were saying words that you were sure did not belong to you but to someone else, someone many years older and some measures wiser. “Forgive me…I have kept you waiting for so long…”

“No, no, please don’t die, please don’t — who are you? What happened to you?” he said insistently, taking your face in his large, warm hands. Your eyelids drooped as he shook you, and you did not feel as frightened anymore, your dread fleeing in the consolation of his panicked embrace.

The last thing you felt was the weight of his palms upon your heart and the heat of his mouth against your own as he begged you to come back, to answer his many questions and stay with him in the realm of the living. Perhaps you might’ve, but you succumbed to the bleakness of finality and were met with a blissful emptiness not too dissimilar to sleep before you could attempt to; then, it was all you could do to lie there and think to yourself how wonderful it would be if you spent the rest of your existence exactly like this, freed from trials and tribulations and terrors alike…

You awoke with a sharp inhale, half-expecting to be met with the biting sting of sand on your skin — yet to your surprise, you were in a bed, feather-stuffed pillows propped behind your neck and a pale blue quilt tucked neatly around your shoulders. Furrowing your brow, you stared at the white ceiling for a moment, and then you sat up, casting aside the pillows and quilt in a flurry of activity, swinging your legs over the mattress and planting your feet on the wooden floor.

Only a second later, your knees buckled and you found yourself in a heap on the woven rug, the flowery patterns dyed into the wool mocking you with their cheery brightness. You lay there for a while, finding no merit in attempting anything but motionlessness, and then slowly you extended your arm, tracing the bleeding edges of the red petals that were now at your eye level.

Dimly you grew aware of a thudding that was becoming progressively louder, and the thought crossed your mind that you should perhaps be worried, but whoever was approaching had not hurt you while you had slept, so you felt that it was fair for you to ignore it. Anyways, what would you do even if they did mean you harm? There was no sense in caring, so you remained sprawled on your side, stroking along the carpet and wishing the stems of the flowers might manifest into reality so that you could braid them together into thin, spidery plaits.

The door banged open, and you gave the entrant the grace of lifting your chin, as much out of your own curiosity as in polite acknowledgement. He did not notice you at first, his shoulders tense as he scanned the room, and when he realized the bed was empty, something like a scowl formed on his kind, lovely face — though it was not anger but despair that drove it, or at least that was how it seemed to your untrained eye.

“Oh, you’re awake!” he said, his eyes widening and a slight smile replacing his frown when he finally noticed you peering up at him. “Though, why are you on the floor? Never mind, I suppose it doesn’t really matter now that you’re there. You really are proving to be a lot more troublesome to take care of than a lamb, you know that?"

In a swift movement, he hooked one hand under your knees and cradled your neck in the bend of his other elbow, lifting you with a surprising ease and then depositing you back on the bed. It might have been impressive to some, but now that he had drawn the comparison, all you could think of was that he did not view you with anything more than the dutiful responsibility of a hound to its flock.

“I was just about to come and change your wound’s dressings, so it’s good timing, anyways,” he said, reaching for your waist before pausing, an odd, delicate pink shade blooming at the tips of his ears. “Ah, I’m sorry. You were asleep, so I never asked permission…”

“Whatever for?” you said. Your voice came out scratchy and burnt, remnants of something acrid sticking to the back of your throat, and you coughed to clear it, prompting another frown from him. Shaking his head, he sighed and tugged at the hem of your shirt, which hung off of you so awkwardly  that it must’ve been his and not yours at all.

“I have to lift it a bit,” he said. “Not — not immodestly or anything, I swear! I had the neighbor’s daughter come to bathe you and change you out of that torn dress you washed up in, but your wound is so deep that it requires attention more frequently than I can justify calling her for, and I have some experience, you know, with the puppies and the foals and whatnot, so I’ve just been doing it myself…”

“Is that what you’re fretting over?” you said in amazement. “Why, I should not complain. You may think of me as a lamb or a puppy or a foal, if it eases your mind, but all you have done has been in the effort of saving me, I am sure, so whether you consider me a woman or a beast, I do not think there is any need for guilt regardless."

“If you’re sure,” he said, the shirt bunching around your ribcage when he pushed it up and leaned closer to the covered wound, the tip of his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth as he peeled away the white gauze from your skin, bit by excruciating bit.

“So — so you must be fond of animals, then?” you said, biting back a hiss as the cool air dug into where tendrils of infection laced along your exposed, gouged-away skin. “No, do not apologize; please tell me of them, so that I may be duly distracted.”

“Yes, there’s not much else to be fond of around here,” he said. “Here being Aedes Elysiae, if you didn’t know; we are terribly isolated from anything of note, and the sheep outnumber the people by far, so what choice do I have? It’s a dull, sleepy place, this village, but no one ever leaves it, perhaps because there is a certain charm to a home and a livelihood so secluded from the mess and bustle of the capital.”

As he spoke, he patted down the packing in your wound, wiping away the excess blood spilling over the sides with a tenderness that belied the clinical nature of the task. Of course it still ached, but you were quite sure that if it were anyone but him, it would’ve been ten times worse, so in thanks you stayed as still as possible and allowed him to work without complaint.

“My name is Phainon,” he continued. “I’m only a shepherd, to be honest with you, so all of this is a bit strange to me — I’m not really the kind of person that this sort of thing happens to, if you understand what I’m saying. I was just chasing after a stray ewe that day, but then my dog got to barking and led me straight to you.”

“I don’t remember a dog,” you said. “Though I don’t remember much of anything, so I suppose that’s a bit meaningless. ”

“He didn’t want to go near the sea. It’s odd, because he’s normally so fond of swimming, but that day all he could do was whine and paw at the sand like he was waiting for me to do something,” Phainon said, winding a pristine roll of bandages around your torso methodically, with the mindlessness typical of accustomization to an everyday task. “You really don’t remember anything?”

“No,” you said. “When I try to think of my past, I come up with nothing. Nothing, that is, but you.”

He pursed his lips, and then his fingers brushed over your navel, tying the strips of dressing together in a cross. You didn’t know if it was intentional or an unconscious, fidgeting habit; you thought it must’ve been the latter, given that he did not dissolve into a fit of apologies for daring to touch you, but then again you did not know him well enough to say for certain. Either way, it was so quick that you did not mind and would not have mentioned it even if you did; then he was adjusting your shirt and stepping away, clasping his hands together like he was gathering his thoughts.

“It hasn’t healed any,” he said. “I was hoping that when you woke up you would be able to tell me where you’re from, or at least what happened for you to end up in such a manner. I might be able to treat you better if that’s the case, but as it is, I’m at a bit of a loss.”

“My apologies,” you said, bowing your head. “I owe you my very life, and yet the only repayment I can afford you is further distress.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, it’s not a big deal. I wasn’t thinking of repayment when I found you. I wasn’t thinking much at all, really, just that you were there and you were dead, or soon would be, and I couldn’t accept it.”

“You couldn’t accept it,” you repeated. “Why, because you’re the one who found me? Do you feel some measure of duty to me for it?”

“It’s not just that,” he said. “I don’t know. I can hardly explain it to myself, let alone someone else…but I thought I would have to stay and breathe for you until the tide grew low and the crabs came to mock me, and strangely enough, I would’ve done it. If that was what was necessary, I would’ve.”

You narrowed your eyes, scrutinizing the man who had played as your heart and your lungs until such a time that you could do so on your own. He was a striking figure, albeit unassuming at first glance, his taste in ornament and dress detracting somewhat from the imposing nature of his presence. Taller and broader than any shepherd had the right to be, his eyes were shimmering and clever, his hair carelessly mussed and pale as the moon, the silvery strands framing his appealing face in such a fine way that you almost could not believe he was real, that he was not some empyrean figment of your imagination.

“I see,” you said finally. “Whatever your reasoning might be, I’m indebted to you.”

“Oh, um…anyways, now that you’re awake, I guess the only thing to do is to take you to the village proper, where we can see an actual healer,” he said, wrinkling his nose, clearly unused to praise being lavished upon him, especially such a great, generous amount. “I was too frightened to jostle you about so much while you were unconscious, but I don’t know that we have much of a choice anymore. I’ve been treating your wound as one would treat an abscessed hoof, but this may be a few orders of magnitude more serious.”

Unbidden, your knuckles pressed into your aching ribs, and with a wince, you chuckled. Phainon’s face fell, his eyebrows drawing together and the corners of his lips curving downwards, and this for some reason prompted a sinking sort of disappointment in you.

“It may be,” you said. “But I am sure that with proper medicine, it will heal and be as if it never happened.”

Both of you knew you were being unnecessarily and unrealistically optimistic, but he did not say anything to correct you, only nodding, perhaps needing the reassurance as much or more than you did. After all, wouldn’t it be worse to know that despite everything he had done, you had still died? Wouldn’t it hurt more now that he had brought you into his home than it would’ve if he had simply left you on that beach, rotting amongst the stinking seaweed?

With the help of your grip on Phainon’s proffered forearm, you managed to stumble down the stairs to his kitchen, though it was an exhausting endeavor, and you would’ve fallen several times over if it weren’t for him. You knew from the set of his mouth that he didn’t approve of your attempts at independence, but he was not the sort to argue, nor the type to gloat when you settled in a chair at his small table with a sigh.

“I don’t have much,” he said as he opened and closed the doors of his cabinets, pulling out various preserves in glass jars, weighing them in his hands before putting half back. “It won’t be anywhere near as nice as you’re used to, I’ll bet.”

“I’m not ‘used to’ anything,” you reminded him, craning your neck so you could watch him as he crouched, muttering something about needing to go to the market again soon.

“Ah,” he said, turning and blinking at you nigh-owlishly, his lashes surprisingly dark as he batted them at you. “Right. Sorry, it’s just that you’re so proper and beautiful and — I mean, not beautiful! Wait. Yes, you are beautiful, but that’s not why — I just — ugh, my mother always told me I was well-practiced at shoving my foot in my mouth, but until now I didn’t understand what she meant by that. Here, I hope this is acceptable.”

He slid a plate of something or another over to you, and then he turned on his heel and busied himself with tidying the already-spotless counters. You admired him as he wiped over the grainy wood, in the meanwhile cutting your food into pieces with the fork and knife he had given you, taking the smallest bite and then humming in approval.

“It is more than acceptable,” you said. “However, need I remind you I’m in no position to complain either way? I would eat even if you only gave me pig slop.”

“I wouldn’t do that!” he said, dropping his rag and brandishing his index finger at you. “Do you really think — you’re joking.”

“Yes,” you said, laughing despite how it hurt, thinking that there might be some remedy to be found in this version of pain. “I am only joking.”

“I can’t quite understand you,” he said. “You speak like one of those Helikan tax collectors, but you have the sensibilities of any ordinary girl.”

“Is ‘Helikan tax collector’ the worst insult you can fathom? I am duly offended, though you really ought to improve your creativity for the future,” you said.

“You’re joking again,” he said flatly, and you could not even deny it, your continued laughter betraying you. “I’m not trying to insult you, I’m simply telling the truth. It’s an honor if anything; being associated with Helike is high praise here.”

“Why is that?” you said. He handed you a mug filled to the brim with a warm drink that had a sweet, unfamiliar aroma wafting off of it, and then he sat across from you with his chin in his hands.

“It’s the capital of the region,” he said. “The most powerful city on the coast. Aedes Elysiae and the other villages like us are technically part of the Helikan state, though for the most part they leave us to our own devices, as long as we pay our taxes and don’t cause too much trouble.”

“Do they lend you protection in exchange?” you said.

“They’re supposed to,” he said. “But the city itself is much too far, and we are of much too little consequence for them to care, especially since that Lord of Swines took over and let the countryside fall to chaos.”

“What sort of a place is this, to be ruled with such a loose fist, and by a man called the Lord of Swines, no less?” you said incredulously. “Have I found myself in some strange fiction? I can’t quite believe it.”

“He’s not actually called the Lord of Swines,” Phainon said, clicking his tongue impatiently. “And officially, he’s not the ruler of anything but his temple. Helikan politics are a bit of a complex situation, but you shouldn’t pay any mind to them. Focus on getting well and remembering where your actual home is. I’m sure there are people who are missing you.”

“Right,” you said. “If I have a mother and father, they must be worried…or siblings, if I am so privileged as to have a brother or sister or both, then maybe they are searching for me…and friends, surely I have friends, right? Do you believe they think of me in my absence?”

“Of course they do,” he said. “They will be overjoyed when you return, I’m sure of it.”

“It is such a difficult and delicate thing, to mourn a life and love I do not know,” you said, chewing contemplatively in the ensuing silence, continuing only after you had swallowed. “I am sad for what I have lost, but I am more sad for those who have lost me. My suffering is only bodily and can be treated, or at least alleviated, but what recourse do they have?”

It was a rhetorical question, and thus he did not try to answer it, but you could tell by the softening of his eyes that he pitied you. Perhaps you should’ve found it condescending or infuriating, but it was only heartening to think that he understood, that he, too, shared your sorrow, or at least held sympathy for it; so, reaching out, you wrapped your fingers around his wrist and held his hand against your eyes, smothering your tears before they could come.

Outside of Phainon’s small home stretched endless fields of grass, green and gold in turn, sheep dotting the landscape like small, fleecy clouds. A tan hound lounged by the dirt path, a pink tongue lolling out of his black muzzle, and when he noticed you had come out, he beat his tail against the ground, sending up plumes of dust into the air. You smiled as you passed him, remembering that Phainon had mentioned it had been his dog who had led him to you and wondering if this was the very one who had done it.

“He’s been moping about ever since I brought you home,” Phainon said, as if he could read your mind. The dog got up with a deep exhale, trotting along behind you with his tail still wagging, though he broke off eventually to chase after a pair of wayward rams. “You may think it fanciful, but I do believe he was worried.”

“How helpless it is, to be a dog in a world meant for people,” you said. You meant it as a rumination, an earnest contemplation on the nature of these things, but Phainon only snorted, tightening his grip around your shoulders as you rounded the corner of a stone barn and came up to a white-fenced pasture where a pair of horses grazed.

“You’re funny,” he said. “Maybe you used to be a court jester.”

“I don’t think so,” you said, furrowing your brow. You had no frame of reference for it, but the very title felt uncomfortable and wrong, settling on your shoulders like a mismatched cloak. He glanced at you, the corners of his eyes crinkling before he took a halter over the taller horse’s head and led it out of the field behind him.

“Yes, probably not,” he said. “I’ve not met any jesters, but from what Natasha has told me of them, you wouldn’t fit the role.”

“Who’s Natasha?” you said, sitting on a bale of hay and observing him as he bustled about, readying the horse for the trip to the town center.

“She’s the best healer in all of Aedes Elysiae,” he said. “Actually, she’s from the capital, but something happened in her family a few years ago, so she moved out here and has remained in the village ever since. It’s a lucky thing, really — she knows how to treat maladies most of us have never even heard of, and I’m sure she’s saved more lives than I count just because of it.”

“You’re taking me to see her, then,” you said. He nodded.

“If there’s anyone here who can figure out what’s going on with your wound, it’s her,” he said. “Like I told you, I would’ve taken you to her earlier — I should’ve, I know I should’ve — but —”

“You mustn’t upset yourself like this,” you interrupted before he could continue. “You have done the best you could. I do not blame you, so do not blame yourself; how could you have known that it would turn out to be such an abnormal case? Anyways, you may have done the right thing after all. I am still alive, and who knows if that would’ve been the case had you been hasty? Enough with your worrying, for I cannot continue to reassure you in this way. You must be certain that you were correct and understand that even if you weren’t, you cannot undo what has already been done. The only thing left for both of us is to continue onwards with the situation as it is.”

He gawked at you for a moment, like he had not been expecting you to say that, and even you were taken aback, for you, too, were surprised by the gravitas in your voice, the stern, cold nature of it. An awkward silence descended upon you both with a swiftness, and it was only broken when his horse huffed, pawing at the ground in an impatient reminder that he was still tied and half-tacked.

Phainon cleared his throat and busied himself with the buckles of the saddle, clearly embarrassed. “Right, I’ll do that.”

“I am sorry,” you said.

“Don’t be,” he said. “You spoke correctly. There’s nothing that can be changed now. All we can do is go to Natasha and hope it was enough.”

The ride to the village center was not terribly long, or at least you did not think it was, for you spent most of it with your cheek between the bony blades of his shoulders, drifting in and out of sleep, although you had just awoken a few hours earlier. It must’ve been a symptom of the decay festering in your ribcage, for the weariness felt unnatural, forced, a fog over your mind that combined with the lack of your memories to lull you into a blank motionlessness, your failing body weighed down as if by stones shoved in your pockets.

To call Aedes Elysiae a village was generous; it was a cluster of homes wound through with a few cobblestone streets, a small square lined with shops the closest to a center that they had. Wood-painted signs declared each merchant’s wares, but Phainon led you past all of them, ignoring the staring townspeople who whispered as you walked by and halting before a grey-walled house with flowers blooming in the windowsills.

“Here we are,” he said, helping you off of the horse and tying it to a wooden post. You reached out and took one of the blossoms between your fingers while he did so, stroking the velvety petals with a slight frown, though you could not say why they brought such distress, why your stomach dropped as soon as you saw the steadfast blooms. “Are you okay?”

“Hm?” you said, startling at the sudden address, the flower falling from your hand and drifting to the ground, where it was promptly crushed under the horse’s hoof. “Yes, yes, I’m alright. I was just surprised.”

“By the flowers?” he said, far more discerning than you would’ve expected from someone who had been kind to the point of near-naivete up until this point. When you nodded hesitantly, he frowned. “I don’t know what kind they are. They don’t grow around here; I think she brought them with her from Helike or something.”

“Anemones,” you said, the name materializing like the ghost of a person you once knew but had long ago lost. “I…they mean something, I think, but I can’t say what. Of course.”

“Do you think that once your injury is cured, you’ll be able to remember everything again?” he said, knocking on the blue door, cocking his head slightly while he waited for a response.

“I would like to believe so,” you said. “But it feels overly hopeful, so I will refrain for now. It’s better not to have expectations at all, right?”

“Maybe,” he said. “But isn’t it also important to have faith? I mean, what else even is there to be had?”

Before you could muster a response, the door swung open, revealing a slender, willowy woman with an oval face and dark hair tied at the nape of her neck, loose tendrils falling in her eyes and white ribbon trailing down her back. When she noticed you and Phainon standing there, she frowned slightly, but it was concerned, not disdainful, and nearly maternal in quality, although she could not have been more than a few years older than either of you. 

“Phainon? Who’s this? Is everything alright?” she said, and the calm, steady cadence of her voice was enough to set your heart, which inexplicably had begun to race, at ease. Here was a woman who understood things, who might understand you, despite the sorry fact that you could not yet understand yourself. She ushered you in without even waiting for Phainon to explain, taking over the support of your limp weight as easily and naturally as breathing — which, to a healer, such a task really was so ingrained, you supposed.

“I found her on the beach,” he said, and although she did not require any assistance, he hovered at your side with the worried air of a mothering hen, like he could not bear to relinquish the care of you entirely. “She washed up in a wad of seaweed, bleeding all over the sand from this horrible wound in her side. For a while I was sure she would die in my arms, but then miraculously she began coughing and breathing on her own, without my help, although she did not wake up for some time, and the condition of her wound never improved. Ah, that’s actually why we came to see you, Natasha, if you don’t mind looking…”

“Of course I don’t mind,” she chided him, as if he had been a fool to ask her in the first place. “Just wait outside. I’ll bring her to you when I’m done.”

“Okay,” he said, but it was drawn out and long, like he was hoping by the end of the word she would change her mind. His reluctance was obvious, and with every step he took away from you, your heart squeezed a little tighter, which meant that he was not alone in the feeling — but who were you to argue? She was the one who knew best, and so you had no choice but to follow her directives.

Natasha waited until the door was well and fully closed before she turned to you, clearing her throat and folding her hands in her lap. You had been expecting her to immediately take to inspecting the site of your injury, so you were surprised by the reaction, and even more so by her subsequent scowl.

“Was he telling the truth?” she said.

“Huh?” you said. She nodded towards the window, where, presumably, Phainon stood in anxious wait, unable to do anything of merit but unable to leave, either.

“Phainon,” she said. “Did he really find you under such…altruistic circumstances? I don’t want to believe it of him, he’s always been so good, so wonderful, but neither do I wish to presume. So, I ask you again: is he telling the truth?”

“I don’t understand,” you said. “Are you suggesting that he could be the one who hurt me?”

“In a sense,” she said, the air suddenly growing fraught and thick with tension. “Or, perhaps, that in your current condition, he might have—”

“No!” you said, and it burst out so vehemently that your hand clapped over your mouth immediately afterwards. What cause did you have to defend him so staunchly? You did not know him, not well and not at all, and what Natasha was saying was not baseless. It would not have been difficult for Phainon, not with how you were at present…but you could not fathom it, you rejected it, you knew it wasn’t the case. He wouldn’t have, he could not, you were so sure, and your certainty was frightening, it was frightening and confounding and should not have existed in the first place, least of all in such a great quantity, but it was there nonetheless.

“You’re quite convinced?” she said, and you nodded, because, although you could not remember much, you did recall the day he had found you, for it was in a sense a second birth, the rest of your life a dark blur up until the moment you had opened your eyes to him. Him and the deep punctures in your side, which were blackened around the edges and wept red onto his turmeric-stained tunic; him and the kelp tangling around your throat, which crumbled away as soon as his palm lit upon the firm bone of your chest; him and the brine at the corners of your mouth, which dribbled down your chin as he pinched your nose shut and pressed his lips to yours, breathing life back into a sodden, weary heart that had no choice but to accept the offering.

“I am. He saved my life. I — well, to be fully honest with you, I have found myself without much if anything in the way of memories, but there are some things that exist in the back of my mind in the way some words exist on the tip of one’s tongue, just out of reach but maddeningly close, and this is exactly such a thing. I can’t explain how or why, but I can tell you unflinchingly and calmly that I would be dead if it weren’t for him. Perhaps many times over; perhaps in ways that he himself cannot know; perhaps in a manner that the explanation for does not yet make sense. But I would be dead without him, I assure you. He has saved my life, and I won’t — I won’t hear anything to the contrary!” you said.

“Alright,” she said. “Please do not misunderstand; I am relieved to hear it. I did not want to think of him as anything less than what I do now.”

“And what may that be?” you said, removing your shirt at her indication and raising your arms so that she could begin to undo Phainon’s attempts at bandaging.

“A boy who is meant for more than shepherding cattle,” she said, and the answer was simple, practical, yet the kind that spoke volumes for its abstractness. “Oh, dear girl, what happened to you?”

“He said it hasn’t improved any. He’s been treating it as best as he can, but he did not want to take me into the village until I was awake — you mustn’t tell him he was wrong, even if he was, I think it will crush him — although it is clearly more serious than anything he has ever seen,” you said.

“I’ll say,” she muttered, and then, to your surprise, she only rebandaged the wound exactly how it had been, not even addressing the site with anything more than a sad look. “Put your shirt back on. I’m afraid the prognosis isn’t good, and I think it’d be best if I tell both you and Phainon at once, to save you from having to repeat it. If I know him, I know he’ll take it worse than anyone, perhaps even worse than you yourself, and I wish to spare you this singular torment, for it is within my power to do so.”

Phainon swept in as soon as Natasha opened the door, and he did not even greet her, returning to stand before you, taking your hands between his and searching your expression like he could tell everything he needed to know just from the reflection of it in your irises.

“You should sit,” Natasha said to him.

“I’ll stay standing,” he said. The with her remained hanging in the air, unsaid but known by you all, and to it she could only exhale heavily, like she had expected as much but had wished most fervently for a different response.

“I can’t do anything for her,” she said. “As far as I can tell, the depth of the wound isn’t the main issue, although it’s definitely aggravating it; it’s that it’s poisoned, and that this poison is spreading, which is killing her slowly. But if it really is a poison, then it’s one unlike anything I've ever seen, and I don’t want to use medicine on it for fear of accidentally causing a reaction that’ll exacerbate her suffering further. The kindest thing we can do at this point is give her a comfortable place to live until she finally succumbs.”

“What?” he said. You supposed you should’ve felt equally as indignant as him, but you had been half-expecting from the moment you had awoken that your fate would be something like this, so the only reaction you had was the fleeting thought that even this much was a blessing. At least now you could die somewhere peacefully, happily, buried amongst flowers in those green-gold fields that Phainon and his dog watched over, defended with the same zeal that they defended their flock, instead of left to be pecked at by carrion-birds on the unforgiving shore of the stony beach. “How am I supposed to just accept that? How am I supposed to just — just — just watch her die, like she’s some ailing cow bound for slaughter? She’s a person, not livestock, doesn’t she deserve more than that?”

“There is one other option,” Natasha said, silencing Phainon’s tirade as quickly as it had begun. 

“Why didn’t you start with that?” he said in exasperation. “Well? What is it?”

“You won’t like it, and it’s not a guarantee. The answer may not be any different, and you’ll have put both of yourselves through undue stress for nothing if that’s the case,” she warned. He rolled his eyes, and although he had dropped your hands about halfway through his rant, clearly overcome, he now brought his right to rest protectively on your shoulder, like he could tether you to the world, to him, with just that one point of contact.

“I don’t care about whether I’ll like it or not. Just get on with it,” he said.

“Take her to the capital,” she said. “Bring her to my former master, Luocha, who is perhaps the most learned medic in the world. Surely he will be able to better diagnose her malady.”

“You don’t mean Helike, do you?” he said.

“I can’t recommend it,” Natasha said. “The journey will be riddled with difficulties. The road is not safe on the best of days, and as for that wound…no mere accident could’ve caused it. Do you know what that means? Someone or something is, or at some point was, trying to kill her. You may be safe for now, if they believe they were successful, but what do you think will happen when they realize she lives? They will surely hunt her down, and no matter how talented of a swordsman you are, Phainon — and you are, I acknowledge that much — you can’t defend both yourself and a woman on the brink of death from a being that is hellbent on her end.”

“It’s her choice,” he said finally. “No one else’s.”

“Yes,” Natasha said, and then she turned to you. “It is. How about it, then? Knowing everything, what do you say?”

“Phainon,” you said instead of answering her immediately. “Will you stay with me?”

It was suddenly imperative that he answered that. For the first time but not the last, you wondered if you had met him before, to trust him so intrinsically, to need him so instinctually. What other explanation was there? Logically you knew it was not so, or else he would have recognized you, but you could not help it, could not help that nagging sense of familiarity, could not help that whining desire to be nearer and nearer to him.

“Until the very last,” he said, so solemn, so grave. “All of the way until Helike, if that’s what you ask.”

“Then I will go,” you said. “Even if it is not guaranteed, I want to live a little longer. Even if it is more painful, I don’t want to accept my death without first trying as hard as I can to fight it.”

Natasha clearly did not approve, but she did not seem particularly shocked, either, her lips pressing into a thin line as she nodded slowly, sadly, before standing and telling you she would return in a few moments if you did not mind waiting, please. So you and Phainon stayed in that empty room, and for a while neither of you spoke, lost in your own musings, until finally you gathered the strength to ask him the question that was newly weighing on your mind.

“Did I know you before?” you said.

“What?” he said, blinking rapidly, like he was waking up from some long dream, shaking his head and giving you a polite, confused smile. “No, I’m quite sure you didn’t. I’d remember you if we had ever met.”

“How can it be? You say I am a stranger, but who does this much for a stranger? And if I truly did not know you, then why…” you trailed off, because in face of the befuddled furrow of his brow, you did not dare complete your thought: why is it that I feel so much for you? Why is it that I have, in the span of hours, found myself so enthralled? If you are a stranger, then does that make me a fool? I cannot be so weak. I cannot be so hapless. My body has failed me and my mind has failed me, my heart cannot as well. It cannot, and so you cannot.

“I can’t answer that,” he said, and he sounded so contrite you regretted even bringing it up in the first place. “Of course, I wish I knew you. I wish you weren’t a stranger, so that I could fill in the gaps of your memories, so that I could tell you about the entire life you had led up until the point you lost it. I would remember each detail, you know, and I wouldn’t withhold even the most mundane of them — I’d tell you about every single breakfast you ever ate with me, which jams were your favorite and which you turned your nose up at, the flowers you loved and those which distressed you, whether you preferred to play with the sheep or the ponies or the dogs — you would find me tiresome and boring to listen to, I think! But anyways, you are not the type of person who would be found doing such unimportant, silly things, so it’s irrelevant. Can you really believe yourself to be from Aedes Elysiae? We both know you aren’t, which means that you really must be a stranger to me, who has never left this place.”

“If only I were,” you said. “Girls from Aedes Elysiae are not poisoned and hunted and drowned very often, are they?”

“No,” he said. “They have their own problems, but those are not amongst the most common. Whoever did this to you, they are a special kind of monster, the sort that most people are lucky enough to never encounter in their lives. We only have to worry about wolves and ordinary bandits in these mountains.”

“Natasha didn’t seem to think so,” you said.

“Well, the road to Helike is dangerous,” he acquiesced. “And the city itself is a separate entity altogether. Who knows if we’ll even manage an audience with Luocha? He is a busy man, and not the generous sort, who might hear our urgency and make an exception. She’s right to be against us going.”

“But you think it’s a good idea,” you said. “You didn’t say as much, but I could sense it.”

“I hope I didn’t sway your decision,” he said. “You’re right, though. I do think it’s worth it. If we stay here, then your death is assured, and I will always regret that I did not do the best I could to prevent it.”

“Yes, that’s what I was thinking,” you said. “Don’t worry. I arrived at the conclusion of my own volition; if I am to die, I do not want to just lay down and accept it. It would drive me mad to spend my days with that anticipation, especially knowing that there was something I could be doing in the meantime. I could not manage such an arduous journey alone, but if I can have you with me, then I will go to Helike and demand that this Luocha sees me.”

“I already told you I would go,” he said. “I’ll deliver you to the capital, and until we can find out who you truly are, I will remain by your side and fulfill the role of every person it occurs to you to miss.”

“What if he cannot do anything for me?” you said, giving voice to that which had been quivering between you, massless and amorphous until you forcibly acknowledged it, affording it credence and shape. “Then you will have to lay me to rest in Helike. I will be an unnamed body amongst the many others who die everyday in such a large place, another unmarked grave amongst a sea of the like. It sounds so sad and lonely, I don’t — I don’t think I want that—”

“You can’t think such things. Focus on getting better,” he said.

“But I must consider every outcome carefully. There’s a chance that this entire matter will end in such a way, after all, and not a small one, either,” you said. “Can you do me a favor? Please, if it comes to it, ask them to burn me, and then take what’s left to the most beautiful place you can imagine. I know that’s a lot to ask of you, given that we have only met so recently, but I have no one else…” 

“I meant when I said I will be everything to you,” he said. “If that’s what you really want, then it’ll be done — but it won’t come to it in the first place. You will live, I promise. Those in the capital will know how to fix you.”

After that, he placed his hand on the top of your head, which was more than you needed but less than you wanted, and there you stayed, yourself on the bed and Phainon standing between you and the rest of the room, until Natasha returned with a few more sets of bandages and a bundle of clothes and a letter for Luocha, as well as a final warning to be careful before she sent you on your way.

Instead of returning directly home, you went to Phainon’s neighbor’s house, for if he were to accompany you to Helike, there were affairs that required settling. The animals he tended would still require feeding and watering and looking after, and he told you in a fond, level voice that there was no one he could entrust with the task better than the neighbor’s daughter, who was some years younger than you but possessed, in his words, the sort of determination that lent her far more reliability than mere experience might.

She was a vivacious girl, answering on the first knock and beaming when she saw you, the crescent moon of her grin splitting her freckled face nearly in two. Shoving aside Phainon, she threw her arms around you, and although you were taken aback by the affection, you were also warmed by it, by what she must have intended only as politeness but which came across to you as an offer of sincere friendship.

“You’re awake!” she said by way of greeting, and in the back of your mind, you vaguely recalled Phainon telling you he had called upon her to strip and bathe you of the filth of the beach. Maybe you might’ve squirmed, but she was the sort of person that was so guileless it seemed impossible to be uncomfortable around her, for she really was as wide-eyed and harmless as the lamb toddling around her feet. “You look much better now.”

“Do I?” you said dubiously. “I’m told I don’t.”

“This one,” she said, her voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper as she motioned towards Phainon. “Would you believe he’s the hero of the village? He’s such a bumbling clown when you meet him that it’s easy to forget.”

“Don’t fill her head with silly stories,” Phainon said, but his cheeks were pink, and it was obvious he was trying very hard not to boast about what he may have done to attain the designation of hero. “Where is your father? I need to ask him for a favor.”

“I think he’s out collecting eggs with my mother,” she said. He stared at her expectantly, but she only jut her chin out and stared back with her hands on her hips, her foot tapping impatiently against the tiled floor.

“Can you go fetch him?” he said finally, slowly, like he was talking to an impertinent little child.

“You know where he is, and you always tell me you’ll do it when you come, so go on, then! What’s different this time?” she said, and you coughed to disguise your snicker at the glitter of her eyes darting between the two of you. Phainon frowned, opening his mouth to argue before clamping it shut and mumbling something under his breath, ducking past you both, ostensibly in search of her father. As soon as the door swung shut behind him, she sobered, her grin dropping as quickly as it had come. “You know, you’re lucky he’s the one who found you.”

“Hm?” you said. 

“Like I said, he plays the part of the bumbling clown all too well, but that couldn’t be further from the truth of who he really is,” she said. “Phainon’s different from the rest of us. It’s as plain as day; my parents talk about it sometimes, I’ve heard them, so it’s not just me saying that, mind you! Just a few years ago, when I still went to the village for my lessons, there was an attack by a group of bandits. They were intent on holding Aedes Elysiae hostage until delegates from Helike could arrive, after which they planned to use our lives as the bargaining chip for what I can only assume would have been large sums of money.”

“How frightening,” you said, and you meant it entirely. “It’s abhorrent to think that they would attack such a defenseless place."

“It was frightening,” she agreed. “I was walking home already, as my teacher had suddenly grown ill and dismissed me early that day, so I escaped their notice, hiding in the trees as they corralled the townspeople in the square. When I judged them to be well and fully distracted, I began to run, and I did not stop running until I was banging on the door to Phainon’s home.

“He answered almost immediately, and he did not joke as he usually does. He knew as soon as he looked at me that something horrible was happening — I’m not particularly good at hiding my emotions, and he has a talent for reading even the best-concealed expressions — and he went with me to the village, and then—”

“And then?” you prompted when she suddenly fell silent.

“And then I told her to stop embarrassing me with these exaggerated accounts of events,” Phainon said. You turned to see him with a wiry man who resembled the girl most greatly, a cross look on his face, which was so at odds with the geniality you had come to expect that it seemed all but comical. “Please don’t take her too seriously. It’s true that there was a bandit attack that I helped fend off, but it wasn’t that big of a deal.”

“Now, son, don’t be too humble,” the man, his neighbor, said, giving you an affable nod in greeting. “My daughter isn’t exaggerating that much. Phainon here really did take the guardsman’s sword and slay all the bandits that held weapons in their grips, sparing those who had nothing and bidding them to spread the word that Aedes Elysiae was not to be touched. He is undoubtedly our savior, so it only makes sense that he’s the one who found you — who else would?”

“He’ll protect you well,” his daughter added, her voice a lark’s chirp as she hefted her lamb in her arms, holding it before her like a peace offering, which was promptly denied by a playful scowl on Phainon’s part. “You won’t have to worry about a thing if he’s with you! Like I said, you’re lucky to have him.”

“He tells me you have business in Helike,” Phainon’s neighbor said, and although it was not a secret, necessarily, you found you were still grateful that Phainon had not told him what that business entailed. 

“Yes, that’s correct. He has graciously offered to accompany me,” you said. It was a credit to everyone in the room that they did not laugh at the notion of Phainon’s presence being a gift you could have denied. One did not need to look at you more than twice to know you were helpless in the wake of this poison, this half-death, but all three of them allowed you to keep your pride and did not point that out, Phainon’s neighbor even grunting in assent.

“Why, he’s always been the type. If there’s problems, he’ll be the first to try and solve them. I’m not surprised in the slightest,” he said. “But there’ll be trouble if you try to go like this.”

“Trouble?” you said. “Whatever do you speak of? What’s wrong with how I am now?”

“It’s not you, actually,” he said. “The clothes Natasha lent you are Helikan in origin; even if hers do not fit you well, she sent some from her mother that will surely work, so you should have no issue blending in. I’m more worried for Phainon…”

“Me?” Phainon said. “I see no problems with what I’m wearing. This is how I always dress.”

“Right,” his neighbor said, which brought Phainon to turn to you as if for reassurance. You cringed, for you could not come up with anything positive to say about the yellow tunic nor the pants, which were an inexplicable and blinding shade of violet that would not even suit a king in full regalia. In fact, the combination was all but offensive to the eye, the sin of it multiplying by how the swathes of fabric marred his comeliness, the muddy ochre tinting his skin sallow, the looseness of the drape folding over and concealing every line and angle of his body from view. 

“Perhaps it is better suited for guarding sheep than visiting the city,” you suggested, attempting to soften the blow as best as you could. “He is right. From what you have told me of the Helikans, should they see us as peasants, then I am doubly sure they will not grant us an audience. If you do not speak, and wear handsomer clothes, then you will easily be believed as someone of import, and although you are not an authority on the matter, you did mistake me for a Helikan earlier, so I think that I can also manage. But where shall we find that sort of attire, such that you are convincing enough to pass through without question?”

“I would have kept silent in the first place if I did not have something,” his neighbor said. “My brother once tried to pass the exam to be one of the guards of the Temple of Cygnus, you see, and he made it far enough to receive a uniform, though he fell in love with a singer before he could actually take the role. He left it here with me, along with the rest of his belongings, before running off to become a traveling musician.”

“The guise of a Temple guard! You think my current dress will draw attention, and that won’t?” Phainon said. 

“Well, they have a certain reputation,” his neighbor said. “Even the most fearsome of bandits would not dare incur the wrath of the Temple. It will grant you a safer passage…and anyways, if I am correct in my estimations, then the Temple is your end goal, is it not? It will serve you well there, too.”

“Fine,” he said reluctantly, though only after casting a sidelong glance at you, his lips pursing when he did. “You may be wrong, but if you are right, and if this uniform brings us before Luocha even a moment sooner, then how can I say no?”

Based on how averse Phainon had been to it, you had expected the garb of the Temple guards to be something practical but near to hideous, perhaps even fearsome, grotesque and twisted and hiding his shining visage from the world. Yet when he returned to you, self-consciously adjusting his white shoulder plates, you found you could not have been more wrong, for he was beautiful, so beautiful, awkward and shy though he was, the pearly threads of the long coat and the gold of the fastenings suiting him so well it was as if he had been born to wear them.

“You’re crying!” he said, and it might’ve been humorous, how he all but wilted, if he weren’t also right. “Do I really look that bad?”

For you hadn’t noticed until he had said it, but you really were weeping, and upon the realization, you could only bury your face in your hands in the effort of abating your senseless lamenting, wishing that your eyes would not sting so horribly and your throat would lose its humiliating swelling. 

“I knew this wasn’t a good idea,” he said when you did not say anything. “I’ll go and change now, don’t worry—”

You shook your head, wiping at your face as quickly as you could, blotting away your tears despite how they came back twice as strong with every press of your palms against them. You knew he was confused, he must have been, for you were, too, and you hated that most of all, hated that your own actions were a mystery to yourself. But there it was regardless, your heart, your traitorous, jealous heart, which kept the remnants of your many secrets locked away from the rest of you, singing and singing as you clenched your fists to prevent yourself from reaching for him.

“Don’t change,” you said. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what overcame me. You just looked so familiar for a moment that I could not help it, but — but no, you don’t look bad, not at all.”

“You are a picture!” his neighbor said, clapping his hands together. “Truly, you suit it much better than my sorry old brother ever did. This must have been what Luocha envisioned when he designed them; I don’t think there’s been a guard more striking than you since the Temple of Cygnus was founded!”

“Okay, okay, that’s enough,” Phainon said, nudging his neighbor away as the man tried to reach up and ruffle his hair. “You’re certain it won’t be too much of a burden for you to watch over my home while I’m gone?”

“After all of the help you’ve given us, I would never dream of calling you a burden. Take your time and worry only about your pretty girl here,” his neighbor said, nodding his chin towards you. “We will pray for her health and your safe return the entire time you’re gone.”

“Thank you,” you said, ignoring Phainon as he began to sputter indignantly at what was unmistakably only said to provoke that exact reaction from him. “I appreciate it, and I am eternally grateful for everything that you have done for me. For the rest of my life, however short or long it may be, I will remember you all, who saw a stranger by the sea and found it in your hearts to save her.”

taglist (comment/send an ask to be added): @itseightamineedsleep

[mcpostinghours]

I'm going to torment y'all with more Obey Me posting, here's what sorts of dresses I think the boys would pick for MC ( regardless of gender)

Lucifer: He can act like he's not as horny as his brothers, but I think he would imagine something super form fitting. Classy, true, but form fitting and probably black or blue or red. Feather details are a bonus.

Mammon: Thinks MC is so, SO hot, so something short and revealing, decorated in glitter and gold. Obviously something in black and gold. That being said he'd also all but faint to see them in something white and shining, loosely hanging over them like some old depictions of the gods.

Leviathan: Also horny, but also a nerd. Something with fantasy elements, and definitely at least one leg slit. He also likes oceanic colors, or orange to match him of course. Tbh his dream dress for MC would make them look like a mermaid.

Asmodeous: He's also horny (noticing a trend) but he ALSO loves fashion. I think his ideal dress would look like really really fancy lingerie. Definitely heavy on the lace, and definitely something in pink or white.

Satan: A hopeless romantic who loves fairytales? He absolutely would choose some kind of princess looking gown, with a structured bodice and fluffy skirt. Naturally he'd like something in green, or maybe purple.

Beelzebub: I feel like he doesn't think about this kind of stuff much, but if pressed he'd probably pick something short and cute. Or something that made MC's butt look good, he's totally an ass man. I feel like he'd like the color red too, or black.

Belphegor: Now he would want something that's soft and nice to touch, so probably something silk. Naturally he'd like something in purple or deep blue, super dreamy nighttime colors. It also doesn't matter how small your boobs are or if you even have them, this guy wants to see and rest his head on your cleavage. (Brat)

Diavolo: Something luxurious and regal, he wants to show MC the extent of what he can offer them. Also something white and gold, it's gonna end up looking like a wedding dress. He does not care, in fact that's a bonus. Something that glitters and makes them look even more divine. (He low-key wants to make them look more gorgeous than the angels as a flex)

Barbatos: Something slinky and formal. Something that matches the turquoise of his tail. Where Mammon would drape MC in gold, Barbatos goes for jewels. On MC's neck, chest, in their hair. He wants to see them glimmer.

Simeon: Something sweet and power blue. He prefers fabrics that drape and flow, loosely hightlighting their form. He'd never admit it but he also has a thing for dresses that are a bit transparent...

Solomon: While this asshole would probably say he'd prefer them nude, there is a legitimate answer. He would like a dress that looks like the night sky, black with glittering silver stones. Something that makes MC look as magical as he thinks they are. That being said he also wants a really REALLY high leg slit with a garter. He'd have a conniption.

Edit: I have now illustrated part of this:

[fridgemissionmaster]

Can’t Sleep, Love: You can’t sleep and bug your demon about it (bros)

It was too hot. Well, your body was, the world beyond your bed freezing. Your mind could not stop racing, paranoia screaming at you to turn on the lights, look around the corner, to not keep your back to the door. Stress squeezed your lungs, breath shuttering.

It was the middle of the night, and you could not sleep. Even if you tried something deep in your belly knew it’d be restless, nothing but nightmares.

Was this any better though, being stuck in your head, waiting through every agonizing second, eyes flickering to the clock just waiting for morning to come.

Stomach churned, acid threatening to crawl up your throat, that disgusting aftertaste clinging to the back of your tongue, the stress of… everything, making you sick.

You just… could not stand to stay in bed anymore. What then though? Doom scroll knowing you’d only get a headache and placing the final nail in the coffin of you getting ANY rest at all?

Warnings: Lucifer: alcoholism, Leviathan: references to lesson 16, Satan: allusions to death/murder, Beelzebub: references to lesson 16

Lucifer

Surely the workaholic was still awake, signing papers meant for the prince, responsibilities not his own being shoved his way.

Your heart raced, was it the wide awake-exhaustion or the paranoia pricking at the back of your mind, you couldn’t discern.

Foot falls quickly and quietly padded across those wooden floors.

You weren’t sure why Lucifer’s office was hidden away, everybody knew where it was, it practically being treated as another common room like your bedroom or kitchen, yet there was still something… enchanting about having to tug on the out of place book to make the bookshelf jolt, before sliding to the side, just enough for the entrance way to be revealed as well as that staircase beyond it.

You froze for a moment on the top of those steps, those piercing eyes already on you. You expected to find them possibly leering from the desk, but no.

An arm lazily draped over the backrest of the couch, head smooshed and resting against the shoulder he peered over to you, face completely flushed, just about as red as his eyes or his nail polish.

A piano and violin duet drifted through the air.

He just stared for a while before a dopy smile slowly drew on his lips.

The sleeves of his button-up were rolled up, gloves discarded on the table beside bottles, several knocked over empty of their contents.

You knew the man had some alcoholic tendencies but…

You hoped it wasn’t as bad as it had appeared in the moment and that he was just very stressed from whatever nonsense Diavolo discarded for Lucifer to clean up this time.

He made no move but those eyes following after you as you crept down those steps. Once you couldn’t be followed any more, he turned around, grabbing one of those bottles, almost knocking another one over in the process before filling that empty champagne flute.

Cheerily he held it to you, the glass slightly tiled, off kilter in hand, that blue liquid almost spilling out. Quickly you took it, fearing Lucifer would lose his grip.

Those fingers twitched as they brushed against your’s, a soft sigh escaping him as he reached out, a hand on your own feeling that warmth. Delight played across his face as he squeezed your hand. A little giggle came spilling out, lightly jostling himself much more than a giggle should.

His breath reeked of this pungent fruitiness, practically burning as it hit your skin.

You let yourself be pulled in by that weak tug, the pair of you swaying across the room, the situation feeling almost dream-like.

He looked to you smiling ever so bright, so unguarded. Even as he tripped back, not crashing with you there to pull him up, his head thrown back in uproarious, almost hysterical, unnerving laughter. It was a new angle to see how sharp his chin was from the underside, his neck surprisingly thick and sturdy, shoulders broad, hair pulled back obscuring none of his face.

He did not refuse as you pulled him close to sway, his face flopping into the crook of your shoulder, a light pitiful laughter still escaping him, almost like crying.

Somehow you managed to drag him along, the man stumbling and humming all the way, the pair of you still in a dance. You regretted going up the stairs, Lucifer almost falling back, making you swear you got a heart attack from the incident.

Finally you managed to get back to his room. It was easy enough to get him to take those last few steps to bed.

You felt the bed bounce under you, Lucifer’s grip on your shoulder tight as he did as told. Even laying down he still swayed a little, incoherent mumbles melding into soft hums.

He felt so pliant under your touch yet you didn’t have the heart to pull away, not with THE avatar of pride nuzzling into your neck, holding you meekly like he didn’t have the strength to but wanted to keep you close. You couldn’t pull any quilts or sheets over yourselves but you did manage a throw blanket.

He melted and crooned as your fingers carefully brushed through his hair, brushing it out of his face. You shushed him sweetly as he tried to speak, you both needed rest.

WARMTH!

He awoke with a start, almost obliterating the intruder beside him before he saw, it was you.

You were beside him on the bed.

Sleeping soundly.

With a groan Lucifer clutched his head, it pounding and throbbing, that awful pain pulsing through it.

You

That wasn’t a dream, dancing together, not this time. But it was always a dream, having that quiet moment in the late night hours. It HAD to have been! Otherwise!

Desperately he tried piecing together those fragmented moments.

What the hell did he say to you in his drunken stupor!? Did he scream out his love for you? Did he say something unbecoming or beg you to stay with him or…

With a sigh he laid back down.

Just what were you doing up so late…

He didn’t like the dark spots under your eyes. Did he keep you up, had you only started getting sleep in the early morning hours to make sure he didn’t get up and do something stupid?

Holding you close he decided it was best to simply wait and rest after placing you back in your own bed. He could inquire about the night once he sobered up and you hopefully forgetting the incident, thinking it simply a delirious dream.

Mammon

He always broke into your room, why couldn’t you do the same to him. It was only fair.

Dashing down those empty halls, tripping over the stairs, you practically sprinting to his room.

It was always surprising how bright the man’s room was at night, soft glows from game systems, lights in display cases, and most notably of all the ones in the headboard of his bed, keeping the area around it gently illuminated more than the rest of the room.

It was easy for one’s eyes to adjust to this unlike the harsh florescents of Levi’s fishtank.

With a flop you fell on the bed, it shifting more than you expected, but you had awoken your first man, him practically leaping out of the thing with a loud, cutoff yelp.

Damn, and you wanted to poke his sleeping face, it’d of been funny.

Buggy eyes stared at you, your hand clamped over his mouth, a finger over your own, after all if the eldest caught you two surely he’d lecture you both the whole day through, for breaking bed time curfew, DESPITE YOU BEING GROWN DAMN ADULTS!

He glared, the look having no bite before it quickly melted away as it always did.

WHAT TH-

A hand clamped over your mouth before that squawk could escape you, Mammon trying to keep in his cackling, shoulders trembling, a bright smirk on his face, dewy sleepy tears in the corner of his eyes.

He LICKED you hand! THE CHEEK OF THAT MAN!

And you were too slow, seeing the glint in your eye and pulling back, leaving you to look the fool with your tongue sticking out.

Damn it, that smile and laugh too infectious, you couldn’t help joining in as much as you wished to stop yourself and feign indignation at his antics. Then again, you did kinda start this from his point of view, didn’t you…

You fell over, face landing on his pillow. Your demon looked to you, confused. He studied you, Mammon always did, why would anyone not want a closer look at the most precious treasure?

…

He laid down next to you.

Mammon always had that rugged charm, even with hair tussled and drool dried to the corner of his mouth he looked handsome. It was hard to read his expression in that moment, but there was definitely something. Calm… serious perhaps? Well dragons always took guarding their hoard seriously.

And he got up and left?

You sat up, watching as he went up those steps, pausing for a moment tilting his head to the top before continuing.

Well… what else was there to do but follow?

A door to his Demonio open for you, him already behind the driver’s seat, an arm hanging across your seat. But wasn’t this car THAT one? Literally the first thing he ever bought after…

Normally, being in such an expensive and sentimental piece one would be nervous to touch the thing fearing hurting it, and it’s owner’s feelings, however… just like ALWAYS, Mammon made you feel comfortable, relaxed.

He quirked a brow as you just stood there before smirking and coaxing you in.

That sort of… confidence, or whatever one wanted to call it, that sort of soft cockiness. That was one trait one could never deny the man had, even under all that impulsive recklessness that got him dismissed, that stride, that swagger of a man with the whole world in his pocket. A jewel to be held only in a velvet case. Strong, and soft.

Those eyes slightly droopy from sleep and unguarded.

Truly a beautiful contradiction of a person at first glance.

Smile sharp, a fang on full display, giddiness beginning to overtake him. He gripped the wheel tight, the pair of you were going to have to peel out of there fast once the garage door opened, the thing a bit too loud, especially in the middle of the night.

Engine roared the moment his foot slammed on the pedal, tires screeching for but a moment sharply turning!

Colorful lights raced by, the car slowly slowing down after that sudden burst. You were at one of the high paths, the heart of the city seemingly far down below, the castle now in the distance the only thing near your level.

Neither of you reached for the radio, the purr of the engine enough.

 Soon lights disappeared, fading into the distance, roads slightly bumpy, gently rocking the car, the occasional soft bump disturbing the consistent movement.

… Were the seats heated? Or had it just been that long since you had last been in a car at night, you didn’t remember it being this cozy though. You looked to Mammon as if that’d magically give you an answer. He still faced the rode, yet he was looking to you too from the corner of his eye.

Actually where were you going anyway?

It didn’t matter really, whatever plan Mammon had, you’d follow, just as he would for you, hell, you didn’t ask questions when following him to the car, so why would you now?

It was nice though…

The road ahead seemed endless.

Damn his neck hurt. As comfortable as his 666 Lexura was, it wasn’t meant to make for a good bed.

Maybe for a demon at least, you seemed just fine.

…

Good, the dark spots under your eyes faded some.

He leaned back, taking in that gorgeous moonrise. He was so tempted to startle ya, it was only fair after the scare you gave him, but… he couldn’t, you were finally asleep after looking so exhausted.

He’d just get his revenge later. For now, since the pair of you were out anyway, where should you go next? Maybe just keep driving, he’d run into something you’d like eventually.

Leviathan

At the very least, you knew with almost certainty that you weren’t the only one awake.

Up the stairs, around the corner that place was not far.

It was almost instinct to knock and recite those phrases when standing before that door, however on nights like these, you had to use a different key. Before even leaving your room you sent ‘.’ in the group chat, then when arriving at that door it was already open a crack.

You always had to cover your eyes when sneaking into the room, the screens and fishtank too bright and blinding, the space no different than it would be during the day.

Keys softly tap, tap, rapped away, the only sound other than the hum of the computer and tank.

You took a minuet to sit on the floor behind that thick bookshelf, it’s shadow blocking just enough so it all wasn’t as much of a strain on the eyes.

It these moments you really got to take in Levi’s room, usually whenever you were here you were dragged straight before some screen or there was an emergency, it was rarer to just… BE there.

Watch as the reflection of the water above shimmered and danced across the floor. It always felt so cold there, but it wasn’t bad like air conditioning blowing directly on you in a winter’s day. No, there was no movement constantly reminding out of it, the feeling hung still in the air tenderly enveloping you.

Occasionally a warped shadow would come by, it broken up into what seemed like many and you’d look up, being greeted by Henry happily swimming along.

Eventually, when you were no longer blinded you’d creep out of that space, taking a blanket out of the tub as you made your way to the beanbag chair in the corner.

His back was to you still, so your gaze drifted back up to those hypnotic waves.

Not long and you heard his voice say something, assumably to the mic on the headset.

In that cozy console corner Levi always had your game within arm’s reach. There was a time when you were here almost every night with the only other one still awake in that haunting house so it was convenient to not have to dig it out every time.

Even after it’s long since been the time of Belphie’s return, and sleep choked your lunges, mind terrified to rest, something screaming this would be the last, there was always a place for you here, every night, no matter what.

A calm farming game…

What were you doing last? It had been so long you had forgotten.

Levi’s character kept waving to you, and you waved back. After taking a few steps away he waved again. Might as well follow.

Through the tunnel, onto the boat, it then dawned on you. You and Levi just unlocked a new farm land.

And so you followed him around, gathering materials and cleaning up the land while he ran around finding whatever was near by.

…

He played thousands of times before you were even born, and yet he always seemed so excited, running around your character and taking you someplace like the waterfall that had that rarer ore or to show you one could recharge more stamina when there were capybaras in the hot springs.

It was a long time after you started to play this together and a long time ago when Leviathan once admitted to you this was one of the first games that really made him happy, no matter how rough the day, it was this one that made things easier, that was why when you came to him that very first time, he brought out this one. You just didn’t want to be alone and would have been content with just sitting beside him… he couldn’t stand it.

All the files were filled and he ended up deleting them all, telling you they were all completed and he’d be needing more room to play again anyway some time soon.

Even this time there was only one file, all the others still empty.

The game wasn’t tedious, but there were repetitive tasks like watering the crops until you implemented sprinklers or petting the animals while gathering their products. The daily pattern was calming, engaging enough to keep your mind away from your thoughts but easy enough you could just… do them not over think about it.

Levi would collect you by the time you were done, give you a meal to recharge your stamina before taking you on an adventure, sometimes a side quest for one of the town’s folk, sometimes going to the woods to befriend a new monster to add to your ranch, sometimes to actually continue the main story of the game for once, sometimes you arrived at a festival or friendship event.

Honestly such a peaceful life, it was no wonder this was once of Levi’s favorites.

It always caught you by surprise when Levi save at the end of the day before quitting, not continuing to another day. Gently he pulled you up before filling his tub with blankets and pillows before leading you inside, and…

…

It was always easy to tell when you were falling asleep, and he didn’t want a repeat of that first night together when he kept you up the whole night and Lucifer ended up getting mad at you for napping in class.

He never went back to gaming too quick, paranoid you’d stumble into a nightmare soon after closing your eyes. He’d simply watch you for a little bit.

Truly a filthy, disgusting person, wasn’t he. To like knowing you’d go to him out of all his brothers, even if it was only for the convenience that he was already awake. Didn’t even have the confidence to tell you he couldn’t play that game without you, with you in his life, he didn’t need the escape, that you brought him more joy in the time spent together than all the happiness accumulated in his endless life.

Pathetic.

The least he could do was keep watching over you, play on one of his portable systems as to not be a TOTAL creep, keep his headphones off and volume low to hear you, glance over to check just in case.

Satan

There was just a chance, maybe Satan had gotten so absorbed in a book he hadn’t realized the time and was still awake too. But did you really wanna risk death by angry demon or collapsing mountain of books?

…

Yeah, you did, better than this torture at least.

Scampering down the halls, holding your breath you tried remembering that light spell, you certainly were not going to attempt going in there blind, you weren’t that eager for eternal rest.

You just hoped no books blocked the door as you tried getting in, you couldn’t stand being stuck in that echoing, creaking hall for long.

Perhaps you used a bit too much force for those imaginary books, the door easily slamming open, before immediately shutting due to the pile behind it collapsing.

…

So it was now an excellent time to run for your life!

Hell, even get caught on your own foot and crash down the stairs, certainly much faster than running down them, right!?

Fumbling in you practically threw your door shut.

Wait…

HE PROBABLY HEARD THAT!

Damn it, and you couldn’t even remember if there was a light in his room or not, did you just wake him!?

HOLD ON maybe, maybe he’d just assume it was a cat??????

OF COURSE HE WOULDN’T WHO WERE YOU KIDDING, YOURSELF!?!?!! AS IF!

Look, he liked you, you’re special and get privileges, maybe he wouldn’t be too mad… Even so you weren’t sure you could look him in the eye. Hi Satan I couldn’t sleep so I thought to wake you up about it. That was just rude and annoying, wasn’t it.

You proceeded to scream into your pillow from the anguish of it all.

Why couldn’t you just sleep like a normal per-

creek

…

RUNRUNRUNRURNRUNRUNRUNRURNRUNRUNRUNRUNRNRUNRUNRUNRRN

Items knocked to the floor, window thrust open with such force for a moment you wondered if it cracked before throwing yourself out hearing the door crash open.

Okay, OKAY woods! Woods are good! Hell, Satan literally got lost in em and thought the pair of you would never make it back in them! PERFECT!

Breath caught in your throat, heart pounding, vision blurred you kept running, even as your bare feet hurt, howls and scratches rang out, branches snapping you kept running.

You j-

Air was knocked out of your lungs as you were tackled hard in the back, yet never did you meet the ground.

And you… fell back? Your view was filled with leaves and branches, the occasional light of a star peaking through as the wind swayed that dark green curtain back and forth.

You didn’t dare move, strong arms trapped you, squeezing you, but not too tightly. Hot breath crawled across your neck in puffs. You could feel a pulse beat against your back.

And there you stayed for a long time, you thought at least, it certainly felt like it.

Slowly you were sat up.

There you were, in Satan’s lap. His eyes, they seemed feral, pupils sharp and thin that dark reflection somehow wider and brighter, his gaze boring through you.

And they closed before nestling his forehead against your’s. His jacket was draped over your shoulders. Despite his slim figure he seemed to lift you up with ease, carrying you along.

Funny how this time it was like he knew the woods like the back of his hand already getting the pair of you out. Admittedly the House of Lamentation was a little off in the distance but still. Of course after that incident he’d memorize the place like the back of his hand.

… Wait, then shouldn’t he have caught you sooner!? How did you get so far!? He seemed to know what you were thinking, his little proud smile shifting to something charmingly smug, simply holding you closer somehow.

It was going to be a lengthy walk back. You were tempted to tell Satan you could walk on your own and he didn’t have to carry you, but something in you knew better.

Under his breath he muttered a spell, any nicks and scratches on your feet and ankles going numb. You almost missed it, his voice so quiet amongst the sound of insects chirping and humming around.

And warm… he felt so warm against the cold.

With you he looked up to those shimmering stars above.

Huh…

He could wake up like this every day.

You and he in one another’s arms, warm and cozy in the quiet.

Idly he smoothed a hand up and down your back watching your peacefully sleeping form.

It was cute how when he tried placing you in bed you still held on to his neck, who was he to refuse your wishes.

He had plenty of time to ponder why you decided to start that little game of cat and mouse last night, but he had to admit after the initial worry that something was wrong and he saw you simply couldn’t sleep and wanted to play a game, he couldn’t help but hug you tighter, a twinge of excitement sparking in his chest!

You could be so cute, did you know that?

But now what? He knew for certain he wouldn’t be wanting to let you go any time soon. Maybe, you were trying to ask for attention in a round about manner, it’d only be fitting to ask you out and get away for the day.

For now, maybe he’d try getting more sleep, a moment like this with you was rarer what with his brothers always around so he should take advantage of this opportunity to simply be with you.

Asmodeus

No, you couldn’t. Asmo was very particular of his routines, including his beauty sleep, you couldn’t interrupt that.

…

..

.

Then again, how was he always able to fall asleep like clockwork? Maybe it’d be alright to just wake him up for a moment, ask, then let him go back to sleep. It’d be like nothing happened!

Quickly you tiptoed across the house, making sure not to make a sound as you passed the other’s rooms.

It was easy enough to slip in, no curses to keep others from getting in to pull pranks, steal things or some such.

The only light there was came from moonbeams through the window casting the place in a soft, pale, ethereal glow. Honestly whith how particular the man could be about his athletics he probably arrange for his room to look as such at night purposefully. That and all the flowers around and for a moment your mind genuinely wondered if you had accidentally stumbled into a fairy’s garden for a moment.

… You couldn’t help that twinge of annoyance that even when dead asleep the man was gorgeous. When he was trying he was beautiful but even when he’s NOT trying he still is! Or did he manage to make sure he always slept in the most perfect way to be oh so alluring to any possible passersby…

Who were you kidding, he probably did, if you didn’t know Lucifer you’d think Asmo to be the world class workaholic in the family.

His perfection had always been eerie to an extent, maybe it was something like ‘too good to be true’ that there had to be a catch to all this, you felt getting too close would spell your doom, that this moment was simply a trap. Yet still you dared to sit on the edge of the bed and… just took it in for a moment. The peacefulness.

And you poked his cheek. Very soft. Very squish and plush. 10/10 would poke again, and so you did a few more times, just to temp fate and prove to yourself that your anxiety was panicking over nothing.

It was funny seeing him unconsciously and languidly bat at whatever kept poking him. He was a surprisingly deep sleeper, you just needed to pause for a minuet before he seemed to be knocked out again for you to keep up your timid, ticklish assault.

You froze when those eyes cracked open.

He seemed confused blinking once, twice slowly. Then a pout formed on those lips. Your face cradled in the palms of his hands, thumbs pressing over the area under your eyes.

Did you have dark spots? Could he see them even in the dark? The moon’s borrowed light was at your back casting you in shadow so surely he couldn’t have noticed such a minor difference so easily, right?

With a little high pitch groan and stretch he sat up, an airy sigh escaped him, the one that always did when he had to state the obvious.

Of course he’d notice, he could never overlook a single thing about you even if he wanted too.

Before you could speak and ask your question you were gently shushed, Asmo weakly tugging on your shoulders. Not sure what else to do you followed that force laying down on the bed, silk sheets and fluffy quilt draped over you.

Leaving a peck on your forehead and he was gone.

It was not long and he was back by your side, tugging on your arm. The moment you got up a fluffy robe matching the one he wore was wrapped around you.

Of course it fit you perfectly.

He hung off your arm, leading you along out the house.

You often forgot there was a whole garden here, it was rarer for you to ever come by it, when chores were doled out Beelzebub almost always volunteered to look after it so it was not like you ever got a chance to work on it, and you certainly never had the free time what with angels, demons, monsters, reapers, ghosts and all manner of other beings fighting for your attention for you to take time to properly explore the place.

Rose archways, wall shrubbery, patches of various flowers you didn't know the name of, even a little pond water reeds grew out of. Simple compared to the sprawling maze like gardens of the royal palace that you had grown accustomed too but it seemed lovely all the same, you really needed to make time to properly explore it at some point.

It was nice though, to think there were still things for you to learn of this place and the brothers.

The pair of you stood under one of those archways, Asmo inspecting those closed buds, eyes half closed, an arm still loosely wrapped around your own. After picking a few you were taken back to the house.

Placed back on the bed you waited for him as he disappeared into his bathroom.

A warm moist towel was draped over your neck, a light floral scent drifted from it, likely from those little dark petals.

You didn’t question it as Asmo sat behind you, his hands finding purchase under the towel and robe on your shoulders, his thumbs slowly rubbing circles into you. It felt nice…

When was the last time you just… did nothing like this.

Oh, and when did this cutie crawl into his bed?

It took a moment of admiring you to notice not you or him things like the towel almost falling off your shoulders and those petals…

Did you two do something last night? Surely he would remember, but he couldn’t…

Wait!

…

Nope, still nothing.

But he did recognize those petals and that scent Midnight Bloom Roses, his go to whenever he couldn’t sleep, the scent so relaxing, but what were they doing around you? You looked perfectly well rested and relaxed but were you already like that or was it the flowers?

Well, you seemed content so what did it matter, he’d let you sleep, in in the mean time he could prepare some things to pamper you! You’d surely have the best, most relaxing morning with him setting everything up for you! You deserve it~

Beelzebub

Well, you might as well as wait for him.

You laid in bed, a couple of the hanging lights above you lit, watching as shadows danced through that colored glass.

…

..

.

Or would he.

Sometimes he managed through the night. As much as you wanted to see him, you hoped you wouldn’t, it’d mean that maybe, just maybe, no nightmares came to torture him that night, that his stomach didn’t eat him alive, that… that he wasn’t hurt again.

Knock knock knock

It was very soft, so soft that even in deafening silence where one could hear only their breath and the house’s silent groans one could have missed it.

Slowly you got up and made your way for the door.

There your gentle giant stood, he too seemed conflicted about your opening the door, but since you were together, you might as well as make the most of it.

The wall shared by your room and the kitchen was surprisingly thin even after Beelzebub tore it down so you always heard him when he went on one of these midnight kitchen raids. It was actually rather comforting hearing him in those early months into the exchange program, knowing your friend was awake and nearby.

How many times had you done this you wondered.

Beelzebub raiding the fridge while you found something from the snack cupboard. Sitting on the counter, picking at some dried fruit while Beel devoured all that was placed on the table. Eventually on the floor in the corner huddled beside one another trying to not grab something else to fill the void. Quiet talks about everything and nothing that only existed in the moment never to be brought up again.

How many sleepless nights had you been there for one another?

He used to apologize thinking he was too loud and had awoken you which… yes he did sometimes, but he long since learned that wasn’t the only reason you’d be up.

How at times it was… easier to spend time with one another under the shadows of night, his face obscured, his shared eyes behind darkness, hidden away so you could be with only him, in the present.

Only one time did he try apologizing for his twin but you immediately cut him off. Beelzebub had no reason to feel guilty yet he still did all the same like he had hurt you.

This was a mutual need, this time together.

Even after so long and getting on better terms with his twin, it was just hard to sleep some nights, school overwhelming or chaos wrought the day prior still buzzing around in your head.

It wasn’t always like this, before the incident it was because you were unfamiliar with the Devildom, Beel actually ended up giving you a lot of advice in those late nights like how it was rude to look ghosts directly in the eye or if one ever got lost in the Devildom they needed carrot tops or wheat grass on them to find help.

Sometimes it was still like that. But there was something about the night that tended to make one’s mind wander to darker thoughts. And tonight seemed like it had been a rough one for your friend.

Warm milk and honey was simple enough to make, and it was harder to tell if any had gone missing unless the jug was finished. The man was practically perched on your shoulder once he saw you pouring some milk into that pan.

It was more a off hand comment, but he did tell you once the drink was special for him, after all it was the first thing you had ever made for him. You didn’t know he had awoken from a nightmare, that it felt even worse with his twin gone yet somehow you knew he was hurting and made some for the pair of you, you admitted you were hoping to sneak some without anyone noticing to help you sleep, it was hard to what with being in a new place.

Once the milk was heated and divided into mugs Beel set about washing the pan while you mixed in the honey, something he could do for you as thanks.

A deep hum rumbled in his chest taking that first sweet sip, watching as steam gently drifted up, wispy and shaking from the cold.

He wrapped an around you, pulling you close. He was practically a heater, no matter the weather, hot to the touch, in the human world his touch may have been unbearable in the summer or day time, but in the eternal chill night of the Devildom it was so comforting.

… Hesitantly you reached up a hand, wrapping your pinkie around his. With a gentle squeeze he finished his drink before quickly washing and putting away your mugs.

Some nights neither of you wanted to be alone, your silent signal to ask the other to stay a while longer.

If felt childish sometimes however you knew Beel wasn’t a judgmental person and you never judged him whenever he asked the same of you.

Once pinkies were linked he refused to let go, even after you got into bed.

By morning he’d be gone, it was for the best really, his brothers would throw a fit if they found out about these moments and would demand the same. But you couldn’t, this was something for just you and Beelzebub.

There were times where still you couldn’t sleep, but the time didn’t feel as long or the world so harsh. However it seemed like this time maybe you would.

In your bed with you, Beel could understand Belphie better. Body refusing to move, too comfy despite knowing better.

He always hesitated, staying a bit longer than he needed, worrying about making the wrong move and waking you up. And so he watched for any sign, a twitch, an unhappy face, for mumbles in your sleep. Only once he was sure you were resting well could he manage to get up.

He’d sneak away for his early morning stretch and run.

He couldn’t help smiling every time upon his return, breakfast ready and you looking fine and well, if a little sleepy at the table chatting with his brothers or eating something delicious looking.

He could never help reaching out, patting your head as he walked by to the kitchen or nudging your shoulder as he sat beside you. He was just too glad you seemed better and had to do something about it.

Belphegor

The Avatar of Sloth, literally who better to go to when one could not sleep.

It was nostalgic skittering up those hidden stairs, heart racing from the strange shadows that chased after you as you made your way.

The door was already partly open, and peeking in you spotted your prey.

Ironic how he was so desperate to escape and now he freely came back for sleep most of the time…

You noted to yourself to bring this up to Satan, very cat like behavior.

Despite the attic becoming a new lounge area for the brothers it was still about just as dusty as you found it the first time, the dust tickling and getting a few sneezes from you. At least the bed wasn’t with how often Belphegor came to it for rest… Although in the end he was usually covered in dust.

With an unceremonious flop you crashed onto the bed beside him. All you had to do was turn your head a little to see him from the corner of the eye.

Gently you rocked him, calling his name. For you at least he tended to get up more easily than he ever would for any brothers not named Beelzebub.

Now that you thought about it though… you don’t think you ever seen Beel wake Belphie. Maybe something to try some time just to see, if he gets up instantly the info would be good for future emergencies.

Running a hand through his hair got you nothing, poking his cheek got you nothing, shaking his shoulder got you nothing. Odd usually at this point he’s at least grumble something about letting him sleep in a little longer.

If it were anyone else you might have felt guilty for going to extreme measures but, this was Belphegor, he’d just fall asleep instantly again in a minuet and it’d be like nothing had ever happened.

You warned him that if didn’t get up you’d do whatever you had to get him up.

Still no response.

…

So, time to shove him off the bed!

He was surprisingly much heavier than you had expected. That meant you should not have been as surprised as you were at the volume of that thud, yet still it caught you of guard a little.

Leaning over the bed you asked Belphie to wake up once again only to be taken aback!

He was schmunzling! AND DOING A BAD JOB AT HIDING THAT SMI-

WAS HE AWAKE THIS WHOLE TIME!?

Finally that snickering burst out of him and he cracked an eye open to see your ridiculous expression. He playfully groaned about how mean you were, how could you do this to him, so cruel, and at such a late hour too.

It was only fair that he got revenge.

And that was how a pillow was chucked at you with so much force you too fell off the bed.

HOW WAS HE STRONG!?

Already he was curled up on the bed looking at you oh so innocently all the while smirking! What a puntable face, just BEGGING to be smacked, yet he dodged your attack!

Even as you leapt up, going in for a swing, he blocked it with a new pillow!

War broke out! Swings from all directions, blow after blow of fluffiness crashing into another, war cries dissolving into fits of giggles and laughter leaving one out of breath and vulnerable to attack! Truly one for the history books.

Unfortunately so caught up in this little game you fell for Belphegor’s trap, him tackling you knocking the air out of your lungs.

You laid there a moment trying to breath despite all that dust flying about.

Belphegor was surprisingly heavy as you had learned that night, plenty of time he had used your shoulder or lap as a pillow, but it was something else to have all of you be his pillow. Or perhaps mattress would be a more apt word.

Try as you might to push or toss him off the man would not budge. And just as you thought, he was already asleep.

So was this your life now, to be stuck here forever unless the ever napping demon awoke?

…

The demon snuggled into you, so warm and soft, mindlessly you brushed your fingers through his hair again, it wasn’t like there was much else you could do other than follow his lead and try closing your eyes.

What a racket.

He tried ignoring the yelling and crashing that came from down stairs. It’s your fault really, he used to be able to tune out their antics but ever since you arrived and stuck your nose in every one’s business and made the house actually peaceful, disruption from that was harder for his mind to unconsciously gloss over.

For once you were not being dragged around some place or another, his brothers needed to learn that you needed to rest too, aka take more naps with him.

Maybe this scare of you being missing would teach them something about appreciating you and giving you the time and space you need to recharge, hell, they all got you so wound up he had to exhaust you to finally force your body to let you sleep.

And guess what, if you wanted rest, the only demons you could be with without you being dragged into some other world ending crisis was him and Beel, just a coincidence really.

So he let himself drift back off with you. You better remember this favor though, it’s not everyday he sees fit to put effort in for just anyone you know.

[zephyrchama]

Do you ever wonder if the Devildom has silly celebrity TV competitions like The Masked Singer?

A bright green peacock costume graced the TV's screen. The costumed celebrity gripped a microphone and swayed as he sang, commanding all attention from the audience.

"This guy's got a great set of pipes." Mammon was on the edge of his seat humming along to the classic tune. "Twenty grimm says he wins the whole season. And another twenty grimm says that it's Chort."

Satan raised an eyebrow. "I don't think that's Chort. Could he even sing? Plus, didn't he disappear because of his massive debts?"

Belphegor nodded. "I heard he's been trying to dig a river for the last six hundred years. The show's hints made this guy seem pretty great. I think it's Vapula.

"You think?" Satan rested his head on his hand and listened. "He's really good."

Hundreds of long feathers splayed out gracefully from the back of the perforner's costume, as if hypnotizing the viewers.

"I'm tellin' ya, it's Chort. He's probably on here to sweep the competition and pay off his debts. Not a bad plan." A scheme began to take shape in Mammon's brain. "If I call these production guys, they'll be beggin' to have someone like me on next season."

Asmodeus laughed, "you? Maybe in a few seasons after me. I know they're waiting to bring me on as a special guest."

"Wait, really?" Leviathan was only watching in case somebody sang an anime or game cover. Most of the time, he was boredly scrolling his phone and making technical remarks about the costumes. "C-can you take song requests?"

"It's not official yet " Asmodeus clarified, "but I know they'll want me on the show in due time. I'm just worried the mask will hide my true beauty."

The singer finished his performance with a dab and a bow. After racous applause began an excessively long commercial break. Interest in the room dwindled. Nobody cared much about curse insurance.

You hugged a cushion to your chest. Being unfamiliar with Devildom celebrities meant you couldn't play along, but listening to everyone's guesses was still enjoyable.

"That guy reminds me of Lucifer."

Belphegor and Satan made faces like they had just swallowed a frog. There was a beat of silence, then everyone in the room collectively went, "Nah."

"Where is he, anyway?" you asked.

"He said something about a favor for Lord Diavolo," Beelzebub replied through a fistful of buttered popcorn. "Won't be back until late."

"Ah."

When commercials ended, the show began to wrap up. The peacock costume reappeared as the judges tried their hardest to guess his identity. Despite its flat plastic eyes, the costume had a majestic air to it. The masked man still drew eyes even when standing still.

"Last chance for betting," Mammon said. He shook his coin purse. Nobody took up his offer.

With plenty of suspense, the emcee began to remove the contestant's mask. There was a solid minute of the camera panning between the stage, the audience, and the judges.

"Hurry up already." Belphegor tossed a piece of popcorn at the TV.

"I can't believe this!" the emcee shouted.

Asmodeus impatiently squeezed his hands together. "Well? Who is it!?"

"It's...!"

Confetti cannons and bright lights obscured the mystery man's face, yet the audience was going wild.

"I can't believe it!" The emcee screamed.

"If they cut to commercials again, I'm leaving," Satan sighed.

Thankfully, there were no more commercials. There were no more pans to the audience or the judges. There was only one person in the camera's focus.

"Your ruler of hell, the Avatar of Pride himself, the great Morning Star! It's... Lucifer!"

There was a sudden chorus of exclamations. "What!?"

Aside from the television, the House of Lamentation became dead silent. Beelzebub stopped, slowly lowering his hand of food while transfixed on the screen. Asmodeus looked like he was about to cry, having his position on the show stolen first by Lucifer. Mammon looked confused and swiveled his head around, stunned, as though his brothers were pranking him. Belphegor narrowed his eyes with displeasure.

You cautiously eyed Satan, ready to command him to stay if things got out of hand. He just stared at the screen coldly.

Leviathan was first to break the silence. "Wait, really? Lucifer's the peacock?"

"I knew it sounded like Lucifer," you bragged. You raised your arms victoriously. Your cushion flopped onto the floor.

Beelzebub was the only one to commend you. "Good job, I had no idea."

"So it wasn't Chort or Vapula." Belphegor began to drag himself off the couch. "Well, that was unexpected. I'm going to bed."

"What's the prize for this show? How much's he winnin'?" Mammon asked.

"Probably nothing. It's a small appearance fee and the rest is just exposure," Asmodeus explained. Him and Mammon both hung their heads.

Satan got up to grab the remote, mashing the power button until it clicked off. "This show sucks. Let's find something else to watch next week."

[karinzany]

SPOILERS FOR CHAPTER 1138 OF ONE PIECE

@shishishi-sunny @wyvernslovecake @theheybarrel

I'm basically going to write what I understood from the last panel.

"The First World", ended 900 years ago - beginning of the Great War and to what we call "the Void Century", and "The Second World" - 800 years ago - the end of the Void Century and the beginning of the World Government rule.

The first world was a technologically advanced world, symbolized by the factory. Humanity used the "Mother Flame" - the "forbidden sun" (represented by the balls of energy carried by the slaves) in their industry. The slaves wished upon their liberation, and from what Vegapunk told us, akuma no mi are the materialization of the wishes of humanity. So the Hito Hito no mi: model Nika came to be. A man-made God was born. The "god of earth" Pluton, a ship that moved using the energy of the Mother Flame caused the big earthquake that sank the world 200 meters (chapter 1115), and only the islands we know today remained. To survive the flood, people and animals got on the Noah ark, just like it happened on the Bible passage that inspired the manga.

I'm also curious about "Vearth", the god of earth in Skypiea.

The serpent of hell can be a reference to Jormungandr or the Leviathan. Maybe in the context of One Piece it is Nerona Imu themselves. Maybe it is a former user of the Yami Yami no Mi that brought darkness and death... Maybe it is just the serpent of Skypiea.

"The god of the forest sent forth demons" - the Devil Fruit tree created an army of Devil Fruit users. "The sun merely spread the embers of war" - Nika/Joyboy/The Sun God lead that army into war, his companions of the Ancient Kingdom: Nefertari Lili, Emet, Zunisha.

"The people of the half-moon" - Kozuki and Minks? - and "the people of the moon" - Shandorans, Birkans, Skypieans? - dreamed of a new Dawn. But humanity, the alliance of the 20 kingdoms, killed the sun, Joyboy, and began their reign of terror.

The God of sea became enraged - the Mermaid Princess Poseidon, Joyboy's dear friend, brought destruction after his passing.

"They could never meet again" - Poseidon was exiled in Fishman Island and Pluton buried under Wano. What about Uranus? I don't know, maybe the Mother Flame itself is Uranus and Pluton is "just" the warship.

About the People of the Moon:

Enel's cover page story is now more important than ever. His ark Maxim is depicted on chapter 1138, since it was probably used by the first moon people to come to the blue sea. It has also been a famous theory that the first Joyboy might have been one of them.

Who is that big Dragon in the middle of the page? I'm not sure. Is that the Forest God? I was reminded of the current Gorosei, and it vaguely looks like Markus Mars, just like the serpent resembles Ju Peter.

"The Third World" is about to end right now. It is a post-apocaliptic world where most people aren't aware of the events of the Void Century. We can see a bunch of characters that are well know to us readers and are destined to bring the End of Times and the Dawn of the New World (which we now now it's is going to be the Fourth): Luffy as Nika, Shirahoshi as Poseidon, Loki representing the Giants apparently, Emet the robot who was a companion of Joyboy, a Tontatta, a Mink, and a series of ships with what we assume have the Ancient Kingdom flag:

I would like to bring attention to a character that was highlighted in a previous moment of the chapter. It looks like a Mink, but I think he is a Zoan User - Yamato in his Okuchi no Makami form, the Guardian Deity of Wano.

Finally the big Demon holding the Sun is Imu, next to a ship with their Holy Knights / the Navy. The world will end with the ultimate battle against the Darkness that wants to extinguish the light of the Sun. And the Sun will emerge victorious and bring a new Dawn.

The drums of liberation will play to the rythim of Nika's heart. The will of D. will be fulfilled at last.

As the late Tom would say:

D. = Don = Dawn

Note: Eiichiro Oda studied about the biggest pirates and navigators in the world, which includes the Portuguese, like Fernão de Magalhães (Magellan) or Bartolomeu Dias (Bartolomeo, Bartholomew Kuma). In Portugal, when we refer to a lord or a lady, we put a D. next to their name, short for "Dom" - Sir/Lord or "Dona" - Dame/Lady. For example, Portugal's first king is called D. Afonso Henriques.

I think Oda did a play on words with Don and Dawn, meaning both the sound of a drum and the Dawn of the New World. So the D. clan are the real "lords" of the world.

[demonsword586]

Explaining WHB devils's kinks(since they all have a scientific names on their character introductions)

I can't belive I became active again just to make this post but yea. Anyway since the game is coming out soon,I wanted to make this post to explain their cannon fetishes(and to also boink everyone,since some of them are pretty.......terrifing)(Also a lot of ophilia words)

Anyway let's cut to the chase!

Starting off with Satan and his devils,we have:

Sitri! He's into cardiophilia-fixation on heartbeats and hearts.(okay pretty tame,would probably love cuddling)

Belial has discophilia-love of record sounds and record music (still quite tame,maybe a bit weird)

Leraye with his keraunophilia-sexual attraction to thunder and/or lightning(kinda weird that he get's aroused by thunder but we don't kink shame)

Astaroth with narratophilia-sexual attraction to words and stories,normally dirty ones(omg he's into dirty talk and fanfictions!Honestly who can blame him)

Zagan coming in with kinesophilia-sexual attraction to movement and exercise(oh so he's into working out and sweat....intresting)

Lastly Paimon with haematophilia-attraction to blood(also yes even tho this looks and sounds like a girl,he's actually a guy. Also I have a feeling he would love period oral)

And we can't forget about the king himself Satan,who's into spanking! Pretty self explanitory. (He's probably an ass guy)

Let's move on to Mammon with his gold diggers(not actully but you get what I mean):

First we have Bimet who has timophilia-arousal from gold or wealth(wow an actual gold digger,must be very happy when he looks at his own feet)

Then there's this cutie! Eligos with his diaphanophilia-Sexual fondness for viewing nudity through diaphanous fabrics such as veils, underwear,baby dolls etc.(.....trust me I'm just as confused as you are about the baby doll part)

Lastly the king of greed Mammon with pygophilia-arousal for buttocks(Oh he's the ass man!)

(Also I found out about Valefor's kink but don't have any images.He's into autoplushophilia-arousal from imagining you're a plush toy(legit he's so knightly and want to be a teddy bear!So cute!!!))

Continuing with Envy's devils!:

First off...Foras who's into scopophilia-attraction to looking at naked bodies or watching others in the act(....he's that shadow you feel when you're changing clothes)

Next this slay,Barbatos with that extra heliophilia-attraction to sunlight(this bitch apperantly wants to photosynthesise)

The man who inspired me to do this...Glasyalabolas with necrophilia-(if you're wondering why that word sounds familliar it's because it's attraction to dead bodies......yea....moving on!)

Lastly the king of envy,Leviathan with that breath control-choking and controling your or his breathing if it wasn't clear enough.(why do all the kings have the normal ones,kinda suprising)

Next on the plate we got Beelzebub with his little mafia bosses!(also what are those skin tight pants that they're wearing?)

The biggest Beel shenanigans supporter Bael who also has olfactophilia-arousal of human smeels and odors(....the only man who doesn't mind if you didn't shower for years. Also he can apperantly even cosplay Beel for you)

Next up Stolas who's into pecattiphila(oh sounds italian)-arousal from an act that one belives is a sin(damn he must really love being a devil then,I have a feeling he's also into virgins)

Next up the dog himself,Naberius who likes autozoophilia-sexual arousal from.....being an animal(yes....he's into pet play apperantly)

Following up is Amon(also nice collar) who likes harmatophilia- sexual arousal from incompetence or mistakes, usually made by a woman(*cough* he would love me cuz I'm useless-*cough*)

Ending this pack of wolves with Beelzebub himself who's into olfactophilia-same as Bael,this man likes smelly humans(also what the heck are those things on his knees?!)

Moving on to the fallen angel Lucifer and all the healers he took!

(bro you okay?) First off we have Morax who apperantly loves stigmatophilia-arousal from piercings and tattoos(understandable,he like that little bad boy/bad girl types)

(oh nice muscle titties) Next up Buer with doraphilia-affection towards fur and skins off animals(damn him and Neu-something would get along nicely)

Moving on to Marbas with that touch of merinthophilia-being tied up....probably into shibari as well

Finishing this batch of bad boys with Lucifer himself! Who also has dacryphilia-arousal from tears and sobbing(oh kinky....but damn kinda evil)

Continuing with the boys that make me the most uncomftrable,Asmodeus's demons(unfortunatelly we don't have any more kings,maybe they will come after the game releases)

The most disturbing one for the start,Ronove with his...acrotomophilia-fetish for....amputees(look I don't kink shame but-)

Next up this disaster of a guy,Dantalian who likes autassassinophilia-sexually aroused by the risk of being killed.(also him x theraphy sounds like a pretty nice ship)

(sir don't look at me like that) Phenix,with his pretty tame morphophilia-interest in sexual partners whose body characteristics (e.g., height, weight, skin and hair color) are different from one's own.(basiclly a size kink but with other versions of it. Also...um...is he always cumming? How are his clothes not damp?)

Next up the last sin on the list,Belphegor's demons(kinda love them actually)

Starting with smarty pants,Gusion and his saphiophilia-romantic attraction based on someone's intelligence(damn it he's into nerds)

Following up with Bathin's hodophilia-someone who loves traveling(don't know how to involve this one into the bedroom....playing beach house?....doing it in a winter jacket?...)

Now for my favorite traumatized boy, Andrealphus with his...god...oculophilia-arousal from eyes and.....licking eyes(god why are you so hot yet have one of the weirdest kinks?! What are you?Jobin?!)

Dang it! I will have to make a part 2 for the angels,since I can only add 30 pictures!

Anyway I hope you enjoyed my little presentation,sorry it's so long!