#savage mc

[mammoneygirl]

When Mammon falls for you

I wrote my first Obey Me! fic today I want to share it with all of you because I crave for more Mammon content (I'm so obsessed with him).

The link of Ao3 is right here if you wanna leave some kudos ~

Like a lot of Mammon's stan I think my perfect boi didn't receive the love he deserved. While playing, Obey Me! I was always waiting the moment when we can stand on his side like the good fangirls we are, so I decide to create this moment myself. My boy deserved all the support ! T^T

(He's so cute, I'm dying!)

Mammon remembers the exact moment when he falls for y/n. Every detail was inscribed is his memory. The smell of wood crackling in the fire in the living room, the softness of the plaid on the sofa, the low luminosity of the lights that marked this end of the ordinary day… the voices of his bothers which resonated on some mean words, maybe deserved, maybe not, and the color of her eyes who roamed the page of an old century book… 

Mammon didn’t remember the subject of the argument he has with his brothers, neither why they were so mean against to him. “ Pain in the ass ”, “ Moron, capricious kid ”, “ Dumb ”... So many unpleasant nicknames to talk about his person. Mammon has the habit. He always responded to these acerbic jabs with humor and a casual, comic attitude. Still, it was frequent enough to be painful. Frequent enough for sometimes, alone in his room, he ends up believing that the words of his brothers had a basis of truth. Maybe he was stupid. Maybe he was horrible to live with. Maybe his brothers will be happier if he wasn’t here.

How long had his brothers' relentlessness lasted? Mammon didn’t know anymore. Time seemed to get distorted when this kind of moment happened. He was there without being there, he answered without really listening, staring at a fixed point in the room and plastering a stupid smile on his face. Letting his brothers see that even one of their words could reach him was out of the question. It was necessary to maintain confidence to safeguard a share of pride. 

Frequently, Mammon had hoped that someone would take his side. Just a phrase, an exclamation of someone. No need for a long monologue, only an " It's unfair " would have been enough... but no voice had ever come up… 

“ Maybe because they are all right. ” 

Suddenly, Mammon was brought back to reality by a book violently thrown between him and these brothers. Lucifer had almost taken it in the face. The projectile came from the sofa in front of which sat Lucifer, Asmo, Satan and Mammon. On the other, the twins and y/n. The sudden throwing movement of the young woman had suddenly awakened Belphie who was sleeping on her knees, and Beel jumped, almost choking on his handful of chips.

“ THAT’S ENOUGHT! ” y/n's voice resonated with a power that was uncharacteristic. As if she had pronounced a collective order, everyone looked at her without saying anything, their eyes wide open. Even Lucifer couldn't seem to compel himself to this angry summons. 

Everyone could only wait for the rest of her words and at the sight of the human's angry gaze, she seemed to have a lot to say. Mammon could feel the heat emanating from the mark of Satan the young woman wore in her left palm. In truth, they could all smell it. It was the first time that so much heat had come out of it. Alice seemed to be pumping the power of the Avatar of Anger at full speed. Burning ashes enveloped her body and swirled around her in irregular waves. Y/n embodied the expression “ Fulfilling with rage ” perfectly at this moment.

“ What high, unwarranted esteem of yourselves you can have to dare speak in this manner of your own brother? Are you stupid or just a huge bunch of pieces of trash? ! As far as I know, you are not exempt from all defaults. On the contrary, you are full of them, each with your own annoying and problematic little quirkiness! ” This first sentence had been transmitted with the top of her lungs. Her strong voice was drawn with rage and oscillated between depth and stridency.

Nobody says anything. It would have been easy to think it was because they had nothing to say, but it would have been known to them wrong. The reality is that they couldn't say anything. Y/n was an easy-going, teasing, but never mean person. Anger was not an emotion that often showed on her face. Even less when she looked at the seven brothers.

A few seconds passed, seconds where everyone understood that y/n was making a superhuman effort to contain an explosion of her powers. With the amount of power she was drawing from Satan to fuel her rage, the damage would have been expensive.

Once calm enough to not cause any damage, y/n pointed an accusing finger at Lucifer.

“ Lucifer, your closed-mindedness and your sadism make us suffer. Your way of protecting us is suffocating, and you expect too much of us. You fuel your pride with each of our successes, but you never take the time to tell us how proud of us you are! You said Mammon is a pain in the ass, but YOU are a pain in the ass for all of us, all the time! ” 

“Asmo, you are superficial and self-centered. For you, beauty matter more than anything. So ugly peoples did not deserve to be listened. You said Mammon is dumb, but you are the dumbest in this place! Life is not only about being the most popular or the most longed for! At least, Mammon see peoples for who they really are! ” 

“Satan, you like giving the impression you are calm and collected, but we all know you are capricious. How much furniture in this place you have destroyed with your incessant tantrum ? Living with you is like walking on eggs! You said Mammon is a moron, capricious kid, but at least HE controls his emotions better than you! And emotional control is a proof of intelligence, so watch your words when you talk to your older brother ! Calling him a moron while he can brainwash people for his own benefit is a huge proof of stupidity and disrespect ! ” 

Y/n was the kind of person who know how to hurt someone’s feelings. She also was too kind to not do it, but kindness has no place at this moment. 

She turned her attention to the twins watching the scene, dumbfounded.

“ You Belphie, you didn’t say anything this time, but you are not ousted of reproaches either. You know, I heard all the mean words you threw at Mammon’s face the rare moments you do not sleep. What was it the last time? “ A stupid, lazy ass ”? How cheeky! Did you know Mammon was the person who take notes for you in class? Just for you not being bother despite YOUR laziness! And you never say thank you! Learn how to be grateful and not project your defaults on others! ” 

“Beel, you are the most measured of all this piece of trash. However, you do not defend your brother the way he deserved it. If you were protective with Mammon like you are with Belphie, the others wouldn't allow themselves to be so comfortable. You say nothing, but your silence makes you a follower and that make you guilty just like everybody else! ” 

Her angry tirades had left her breathless, and she took a few seconds to catch her breath. Seconds when she glared at the assembly with a look that suggested that her rage was not extinguished at all and that she was far from finished. No retort would be tolerated. The fire that had formed in her hand was a clear and visible threat. At the first word, it would explode, and the mansion would be in a mess.

“ You know what all of you are? A bunch of ungrateful ! Without Mammon, you would still be just fallen angels in the eyes of all the Devildom. You would be no better than the most pathetic of lesser demons. You constantly mock and belittle Mammon's plans and ideas, but I remind you that it was one of those plans that gave you the position you all hold today. Learn to be grateful. There is an obvious line between joking and meanness. Don't tell me you're all too stupid to not recognize her? No, the truth is that you enjoy being mean to him! You don't deserve a thousandth of what Mammon gives you. He is far more deserving than any of you. ” 

She returns her attention again to each of them in turn.

“ Asmo, who is the person who stood in line for hours in the rain, in a line full of annoying and superficial demons, just to bring you back that limited edition makeup palette you love so much and bragged about for weeks on FabSnap? It's Mammon! "

“ Satan, who bought you, with all his savings, that curse book you still use to annoy Lucifer? It's Mammon! And he worked for months to get enough money to buy it for you. I know it, I was there! And I assure you that it’s cost more than any of his “ useless cars ” that you like to criticize so much for their flashy styles. ”

“Beel, who is the person who always give you his part at restaurant ? Who is the person who always planned an Akuber command for your midnight cravings? It’s Mammon ! And trust me, feed you cost A LOT !” 

“Belphie, beside the notes Mammon takes for you in class, he always makes sure nobody disturbs your sleep or wake you up. He also covers you among the teachers for you not being caught. Have you ever wondered why Lucifer didn't know how often you're unconscious in class? Because Mammon ensures your impunity! ”

She turned her gaze to Lucifer, her rage seemed to increase even more.

“And you, Lucifer, you are the most ungrateful ! When YOU decide to go against your Father, when YOU decide to cause the Celestial War, who was the person who was the first to go on your side? Who was the person who abandon all to go on your side? Without a second of doubt ? Ready to sacrifice his life, all his possessions, his rank and his magnificent wings? IT’S MAMMON! No matter how much money he spends with your bank card, it will never be a big enough reward for what he lost by placing his destiny in your hands!” 

Nobody said anything, everyone had lowered their heads in turn with flagrant shame plastered on their faces. Even the so proud Morning Star looked at the ground, on which he couldn't even find a crumb of repartee. Y/n's words had the effect of a club with which they had been knocked out without any ceremony. Seeing the effects of her words, y/n calmed down a bit, the surrounding fire was gone, but no regrets were visible on her face. Quite the contrary. Her gaze was still authoritative and accusatory.

“Yes, Mammon is greedy. He also is selfish, most of the time. He is materialist and ready to do the most awful things to obtain what he wants. His plans are ridiculous and foolish, most of the time. He always causes a lot of problems. Yes, he has defaults. But he also has a lot of qualities. Just like all of you. He is generous, kind, honest, determined, talented and loved all of you immensely. You will surely never be able to love him as much as he loves you. So the bare minimum you can do is to treat him with respect and be grateful for the things he does for you. No words or apologies can fix your pathetic behavior towards him and all the horrible things you may have said to him. I dare to hope for all of you that everything I have just told you will make you change your behavior. Because otherwise, I don't know if I will still be able to love you as I do now. Because in my eyes, you will no longer deserve my love.”

On his words, she started to leave the room and just before going through the door, stopped in the frame to add a last sentence, which had the effect of a punch in the face.

“ And before I hear anybody complain about how much I was hurtful, remember the pain I inflict you is just a firm of the pain Mammon’s feel when he heard you talk about him like you did. ”

With that, she slammed the door behind her and stomped out of her remaining anger to go to Levi's room and quell her remaining rage over some fighting games and surely lecture him too.

Mammon remembers everything about that special moment. The scent of wood crackling in the fire in the living room, the softness of the plaid on the sofa, the low luminosity of the lights that marked the end of this ordinary day... And all the emotions that had crossed him deep within himself : joy, euphoria, pride, gratitude… and this feeling, this very specific feeling that appeared to him clearer than any light he had ever seen when he was still an angel. 

“ Y/n was meant to be his. ”

It was a once-in-a-lifetime feeling, even for someone with an eternal life. The feeling that everything had lined up for this person to appear. From the moment Mammon had seen y/n for the very first time, a strange feeling had gripped his insides. He had never been able to put this feeling into words, but at this moment he knew. Y/n had been born to be his .

Lucifer turned his head towards his brother, anyone could have felt the guilt deep in his eyes. Yet the only thing his eyes met when looking at his brother was a bright smile.

“ Mammon ? ” 

“ Mh? ” Mammon turned his attention to him, but even the heavy atmosphere of the room couldn't take away his smile and the joy in the back of his pupils.

“ Mammon, we are- ” He didn't give him time to finish, answering simply.

“ Oh this? Don’t worry! It’s not important ! I need to go! ” 

And he left like that. No one understood. His aura of happiness and bliss was the biggest anomaly of this evening rich in emotion. Probably the power of y/n's words had fried some neurons in his brain. Probably it was the backlash of having someone come to his defense for the first time. Or maybe, his brothers' remorse was far less important than the thing he’s feeling right now.

The happiness of knowing that he had the most fervent of admirers.

________________

I hope you enjoy it! Maybe I will do something more kinky the other time ~

[adoriels-tears-if]

Sneak Peek of the Day (another one cause Mc makes me laugh)

"Wait!" Telio's eyes narrow as he examines the bowls. He takes a small stick, carefully stirring the contents of his bowl. He watches the porridge intently, then sniffs it.

After a moment, he looks up at you. "It seems okay," he says quietly. "No strange smells or colors."

"Are you sure about this? There may not be any poison in it, but that doesn't mean we're not going to get poisoned, the color doesn't look right to me and the smell isn't happy either."

Telio bursts out laughing and even Eleven struggles to hold back a smile. Over by the campfire, Sloan snaps: "I heard that!"

[chiefcheesecakemaker]

Mcs at mammon's funeral: can I have a moment alone with him?

Asmo: of course *leaves*

Mc leaning over mammon's coffin: I know you're not dead dipshit

Mammon: yeah no shit

[naffeclipse]

A Tease

Reader x Grease

Commission Info

I am rattling @o-cinnamonstickz for commissioning one of my monster boyfriend OCs and letting me go absolutely feral with this guy! Grease is such a menace and the poor reader must sweetly suffer him. After stealing a break while on a late shift, the reader will run into Grease behind the diner, and one tease will lead to another.

Content Warning for suggestive themes.

———

The customer smiles as he hands you back the black check presenter, his mouth spread a little too wide to show off his molars. You feel the money tucked within, but with an inward groan, you fear there is no tip. You wish him and the few others eating with him a good night. Maybe you’ll get lucky and one of his friends will pity you and dump a few quarters on the dirty table.

As they all throw down their napkins and scurry away, out into the night of Hebron, you step back to the cash register. Feeling the inside of your apron pocket, you brush against the worn and half-crumpled box of cornstarch hidden within before snagging your pen to tuck behind your ear.

With a few taps and clanks, and a little slam to get it to open properly, you deposit the cash for the meal. Stealing a glance over to the table, you find the dishes piled high, the clear cups half filled with watered-down soda, and not even a dime in sight.

Great. Just lovely. 

You pinch the bridge of your nose and huff through your nostrils. Where did the virtue of tipping go? Is it just tourists or is it simply everyone that steps through the diner doors who forgoes the practice?

Such questions will only leave you with a headache pounding away at your temples. Biting back a few choice words due to their rowdiness and the not-at-all-subtleness in looking you up and down, you slip the bill into the towering pile that has collected throughout the day.

It’s close to the end of your shift, right? You keep yourself from staring at the clock in the diner too frequently lest the hands get stuck in one place, endlessly ticking without spinning. Everything seems stuck in time here. 

The Hebron Diner, aptly named after the town Hebron, in which you and this poor restaurant reside, is a vintage theme with black and white photos of old cars driving between the trees and sepia pictures of scenery from the nearby national park. You’re growing to hate the lilac coloring of the tables, stools, and booths, and your own stupid waitress attire is drenched in the same hue. Your apron is white—a poor choice, considering how well it shows the stains of burger grease and ketchup. 

You return to the table and begin gathering plates. One hardly touched his fries and you think the other merely played with his country-fried steak. Only an hour to go and then you’re free to rush home and scrub off the smell of fast food from your skin and hair. As the darkness holds over Hebron and its neon-dusted but quaint main street, your hope for the end of a long shift grows. 

You bring the dishes back into the kitchen. Darren, the cook, seems content to clean the grill while the diner remains open but inhabited by hungry customers. 

“Hey, would you mind taking out the trash?” he calls over his shoulder, never even looking up from the faint steam that sizzles over the grill top. “I’ll keep an eye out, let you take a break for a minute if you do.”

“Deal,” you answer without hesitation. You still need to wipe down the table, but you’ll do that after your break. You’ve earned one. 

Dropping off the dishes, you look to Darren for directions on which garage. He jerks his head in the direction of the trash bag sitting in a gleaming silver can, and you quickly tie it up and lift it from its container. Without another word, you breeze outside towards the dumpster. 

Darren scratches your back, you scratch his. You don’t talk to him much, but your habitation as coworkers is seamless as butter on fresh hotcakes. 

The coolness of the night washes over you, chasing away the heat and stress of the diner. A faint street light shines into the employee parking lot filled with cracked pavement and the remnant odor of grease traps. 

The dumpster is located on the other end of the small lot, unfortunately. The light doesn’t quite reach there and deep potholes collect water and whatever may fall into their depths. Your heart skips a beat, your fingers white-knuckling the tied-off garbage at your side.

There are monsters out there. You never thought of such things since you were a child, but the world became a lot bigger and unknowable, and this town became a lot smaller and strange since you discovered the truth. There are things in the dark that hide with mouths full of teeth. They like to watch you. They hope to follow you home and catch you where no one will hear you scream.

Is your paranoia striking because you’re alone now? The darkness is thick and inky, wrapping around the edges of the weak streetlight.

No. Stop being a child. Heaving the trash bag up with a soft clatter, you grind your teeth. The night isn’t what scares you. You push yourself forward, one foot after the other, until you catch sight of one of the potholes. It brims with dark liquid shining iridescently. It stands between you and the dumpster, and you catch an unmistakable ripple across its surface. There is no breeze tonight.

Your breath catches in your throat before you roll your eyes. A name is on the tip of your tongue, ready to call out, but you stop yourself.

A wicked grin crosses your lips. A juvenile idea infiltrates your brain and you run with it. You set one hand on your hip before arching a brow, staring down at the oil puddle. Does he really think you don’t know he’s here?

Dropping the trash bag into the puddle, you promptly sit on top of the black material—not allowing logical thoughts such as the fear of something sharp poking you or the general distasteful smell reeking from it stop you—and throw the puddle outwards in a thick, black splash.

You recline back on it, hands on your knees, as you shift your hips slightly to sink into what feels squishy and crumples slightly, perhaps old food and cardboard boxes. Gross. You ignore it and keep sitting pretty. Underneath you, the puddle begins to bubble and froth. The iridescent sheen of purples and blues and yellows flash in a way you haven’t quite seen before. 

Then the thought lingers a little too long before it manifests into something searing with embarrassment. You might as well have plopped yourself into a demon’s lap.

No. You hold firm. This is payback. He’s stalked you, hunted you down, and grabbed you. The least you can do is embarrass him with the rotten cherry being a trash bag on top of him. You lounge as if it were a throne.

Then a growl emerges from below you. Goosebumps roll over your arms until every tiny hair pricks. Your heart begins to thump hard and fast like a rabbit fleeing from a fox.

You spring off of the garbage bag as if burned. Breath caught in your throat, you whirl back to face the sleek ripples of the oil puddle. 

The black liquid rises, funneling into the figure of a man, lithe with muscles and powerfully sleek not unlike a tiger. The trash bag is ripped upwards in a grip of indignation. Your gut clenches as claws, iridescently gleaming and dark, sink into the thin black material.

A creature of living oil. A demon. Grease.

Two dark tendrils drip down from the top of his head, the tips resting at his shoulders. A long, sleek, and wicked tail snaps behind him. His face is flat with a sharp jawline, lacking a nose but his mouth bears bone-white teeth. Two pale blue eyes, centered with black pupils, pierce you in the darkness of the parking lot as if he might devour you whole. You’re reminded so vividly of a tiger before it strikes.

“How disrespectful,” Grease snarls, his silky and dark timbre carrying a slight threat underneath it. “I’ve come to see you and you put trash on me. Must I remind you who I am?”

You shift on the gritty pavement from one foot to the other. The candle flame of mirth inside of you is not yet extinguished. A small voice warns you in the back of your mind that you’re pushing your luck, but you are nothing if not a glutton for punishment.

“I know who you are, oil boy,” you say, much braver than you are. “You’re not as slick as you think you are.”

His grin widens.

“Oh?” He steps forward, his shoulders lowering like a cat about to bounce. The sway of his tail is excited, thrilled for a chase. “Neither are you, little nymph.”

A brief burn infiltrates you at the nickname he’s unfortunately bestowed upon you. Your brow furrows as you take a step back. A powerful concoction of adrenaline and confusion floods your veins, interrupting the flow of your thoughts as a primitive instinct to survive takes hold.

“What…?” Your tongue is too heavy.

He tilts his head, revealing a terrible mouth filled with shark-like teeth. Fear spears your heart.

“If you want to sit in my lap, you merely need to ask.” He cackles a heinous sound of black glee.

Red heat fills your face, coloring you in both rage and embarrassment. No, no, this is backfiring. You should have known he would have twisted it in his favor. He’s so seductive and intimidating. You forget which part of him is more dangerous: his teeth or his words.

“Ah, just how I like you, all pretty and pink,” he purrs deep in his throat. His black tongue, oily and black as midnight, swipes over his teeth as if he just found dessert.

Forget this. You twist on the balls of your feet, pushing off the cracked pavement in a dead run for the back door of the diner.

It’s over before it’s truly begun. Long, slick claws snatch you by the arms. Grease rips a gasp from you as he whirls you around and pins your back to the wall. You glare up at him, a breath rattling into your lungs. 

“Let me return your little favor.” His voice coils within you. Your heart beats against your ribs, wild under his devouring gaze. “A little tease for another.”

The sleek tip of his tail finds your ankle and begins winding up your leg. You bite back a yelp at the squeezing, staining pressure from the tendril. A chain to ensure you can’t run.

“I wasn’t teasing you,” you protest, but it’s a lie. A filthy lie that is only met with a sinister chuckle from Grease. 

“Don’t be so coy. It’s not a good look for you.” 

Fighting words long to fly off your tongue but his own emerges from his jaws. Dripping black saliva coats it like thick honey. Your eyes widen. He leans in closer with a monstrous grin. The tendrils upon either side of his head twist up gently and press into your cheeks, securing you into place as you suck in a sharp breath. Your palms press flat against the wall at your sides. He bends low to find access to your neck.

The cool, slick caress of his tongue on the curve of your throat draws out a shiver. It fills your chest and rolls down your spine. Tenderly exploring your skin, the tip of his tongue licks slowly upwards before disappearing from underneath your chin with a cool trace. You gulp.

The fiend. You would curse him if you weren’t half-paralyzed underneath his mouth. Your fingers inch toward your apron pocket.

“On second thought, why stop with a tease?” Grease slips back just enough to capture your gaze and watch you squirm. A threat of blush is bearing down upon your defenses. “You deserve more. A proper… tantalizing…”

He finishes his thought with a too-wide smile and his tongue flicking out of his mouth, closing the precious little distance between your lips. The gallope of your heart roars in your ears. You can’t name the roiling in your middle. It is too hungry, too excited for an oil demon’s touch. 

Still, you lean forward in the slightest, just to catch him the slightest bit off guard. His tail loosens from your leg. His eyes widen, but he presses in—

You snatch the box of cornstarch out of your apron and whip it in front of you, spilling out fine white powder onto the oil demon. He screeches in fury. Backing away from you as the cornstarch latches onto his chest, he writhes and hisses, claws raking at the substance gluing up his sleek form.

“You—! You—!” He howls but all you can do is steal one breathless sound before sliding out from underneath him and grabbing the door handle. Twisting it, you fling yourself into the kitchen.

You twist back to slam the door closed but catch a sharp, pale blue glare, frothing with a promise so vile, it ignites your core into a hot bubbling mess.

Grease will make you pay. But not tonight.

You lock the door and fall back against it. Deep gulps of air heaves through your chest. You slowly push your hair away from your sweaty face.

You got away. For now.

[diamondsmind-galaxy]

(in an AU)

Luci: have I succeeded in seducing you?

Mc: you failed to seduce me the moment you existed

[angelasscribbles]

Savage Love Chapter 38: Here Comes the Bride?

Series: Savage Love

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairings: Riley x Liam, Riley x Drake

Rating: R         

Warnings: Mature themes

Word Count: 2,169

My other stuff: Master List.

The moment we were back on Cordonian soil, and I was free of Madeleine, I texted Liam, asking for an immediate meeting.

He responded instantly. Come to my quarters. Leo is here now.

I made my way to Liam’s private suite. He was alone with his brother. He swept me into his arms, pressing me close to his body as he whispered, “I was worried about you. I’m so glad you’re back.”

I melted into his embrace for a moment before remembering that I was there to give my official report about what I’d learned in Hidar. Noting that no one else was present, I asked, “Should we wait until the entire team is assembled?”

Liam shook his head. “We can brief them later on the parts they need to know. Tell us what happened in Hidar. Was Lena there?”

“No. She wasn’t. Was she in Rivala?”

Leo looked at Liam, who nodded, then turned to me and said, “She wasn’t home, but her mother was. Her mother turns out to be my mother. My biological one, I mean.”

“Oh wow! Oh, Leo.” I crossed the room and sat on the couch next to him so that I could throw my arms around him. “That must have been so hard for you! Are you okay?”

He returned the hug quickly, then released me as he answered. “Yeah…I mean, no, not really, but yes. Liv was with me. I’ll be fine. It’s a lot to process, but the short version is that when Eleanor was alive, she let my mom see me secretly. The plan was for her to take me and Liam with her when she went back to Auvernall for Lena. Obviously, that never happened and Helena ended up adopting an alias and raising the baby herself.”

“That is a lot!” I sympathized.

“That’s not the biggest bombshell,” Liam interjected. “Turns out Constantine wasn’t the baby’s father and that’s why she ran away.”

Oh, boy. The hits just kept coming. I stood and turned to Liam, my eyes tracking across his face, looking for signs of distress. “And how are you handling that news?”

“I’m not judging her if that’s what you mean, and I don’t blame her either. Our father isn’t an easy man to love and I’m sure he wasn’t a great husband. The bigger twist is who she was having an affair with.”

My head swiveled between the two men. “Who was it?”

Leo answered. “Jackson Walker.”

“Drake’s father?”

“Yes.”

My heart dropped. “Does he know?”

Liam gave me an understanding smile as he reached out and took my hand in his. “You’re worried about him.”

“Yes, Liam. I’m worried about all of you! This is a huge shock for everyone, I’m sure, and it’s not even the biggest issue in your life at the moment.”

The biggest issue was the threat to life and limb that the Via Imperii posed. Not to mention Liam having to get up to speed on becoming king since he’d had the crown unexpectedly thrust upon him just days before.

I filled them in on everything that had happened in Hidar.

“Wow.” Leo grasped a handful of his own hair as he took in the information. “First, we find out we have a sister, then I find out she’s not my sister, and now we have a brother.”

“One that’s been weaponized against us,” Liam added.

“We can try to extract him when take them down. Give orders that he isn’t to be killed,” I offered. “Maybe he can be deprogrammed.”

“Maybe,” He replied doubtfully.

“It’s worth a try,” Leo argued. “We don’t know what he’s been told or how he feels about any of it.”

“Great.” I nodded, “I’ll make sure the team that breeches has his photograph and understands he’s to be taken alive.”

Leo raised an eyebrow. “Are we ready to breech?”

“Hopefully soon.” Getting their brother safely out of Via Imperii control added yet another layer to my resolve to take down the entire thing, not just the local branch.

“Did you learn anything else that we need to know?” Liam asked.

I shook my head.

“Well, I have news. While you were gone, I received the same invitation to join the Via Imperii that Leo received.”

“I don’t suppose you’d be open to playing along by accepting the invitation and pretending to—”

“Absolutely not.”

I suppressed a sigh of frustration. “You are expected to pick a bride at the end of the week!”

My time was running out.

“That seems unreasonable given that I just took over the role of crown prince less than a week ago.”

“About that.” Leo interrupted. “I’ve met with father and we agreed to a course of action. I’ll be officially announcing my pick and my abdication at the same time. So technically, the goal of me finding a wife will be satisfied, so hopefully the suitors won’t feel they have wasted their time.”

“Oh, that’s brilliant!” I nodded my approval. “Announce your choice first, so that the suitors and their families don’t feel tricked, and then announce that you’re stepping down so that the Via Imperii don’t see your choice as a threat.”

“That’s great!” Liam’s face brightened. “Then I can just wait until next year to pick a wife!”

“Yeah…. sorry, but I pitched that idea to dear old Dad, and he insisted that you choose someone now.”

“But—”

Sympathy passed across Leo’s face. “I get it. But I also agree that it needs to happen now.”

“Why?”

“Because you have to be engaged to ascend the throne and let’s face it…. Our father is getting worse by the day. He needs to retire. This morning he was sharp as a tack, but by lunchtime he thought I was Uncle Fabian.”

Liam uttered a string of swear words that I would have sworn he didn’t know.

“I know. And I’m sorry. If I hadn’t dropped this in your lap—”

“What? No!” Liam shook his head adamantly. “Your hand was forced, Leo. It’s fine. I don’t mind picking up the crown. It’s just the marriage part…” he trailed off as his eyes found mine.

The desperation in his eyes killed me a little. He had to marry, there was no choice about that. The only choice was who. He didn’t want to marry someone he wasn’t in love with.

He was in love with me.

That thought sent warmth cascading through me. It wasn’t the time to think about that, though. “What about just pretending to pick Madeleine? You can always break the engagement after we take down the—”

“That won’t work.” Liam shook his head. “A marriage contract must be signed at the conclusion of the selection ceremony. I would need cause to break it.”

“Proof that she’s a member of an organization trying to take over the government ought to do it, right?”

“The wedding is two weeks after the engagement,” Leo broke in. “If you don’t take them down quickly enough, then she will be queen, with access to classified information and places inside the palace. We can’t risk it.”

Liam stepped closer to me and took my hand in his as his eyes searched my face. “Does the idea of me marrying someone else do nothing to you, Riley?”

“I….” I had no easy answer for him, or for myself. I had no issue with him getting fake engaged to Madeleine for the purpose of taking down the bad guys. Hell, I’d accepted a proposal or two in the course of my career. But the idea of him actually marrying someone…. anyone…. bothered me far more than I was willing to admit.

My personal feelings aside, choosing any of the other suitors was going to get him killed. I stared into his eyes as all the available options fell through my mind. The thought of him being hurt…. Or worse... sent all my professionalism flying out the window.

“Of course I don’t want to see you marry someone else,” I said softly before snapping back into work mode and stepping away from him. “And there’s the added wrinkle that if you choose anyone that the Via Imperii doesn’t approve of, her life will be in danger. Not to mention yours.”

“I’m open to ideas.” His voice was suspiciously devoid of emotion.

There was only one answer, and we both knew it.

“Choose me.”

A storm of emotions chased each other across his face. “I want to, Riley but I can’t ask you to—”

“You’re not asking. It was my idea.”

“Yes. However, I know that you don’t actually want to get married.”

Leo stood from the couch. “I should go. Let you two sort this out.” He stopped on his way to the door to lean in and whisper to me, “Don’t let your intractable stubbornness get in the way of your happiness, double oh seven. Tell him how you feel.”

Once we were alone, we turned to each other, the air around us laden with emotion. “I can’t choose you, Riley.”

“Yes, Liam, you can!”

A sad smile flittered across his face. “I’ve made no secret of my feelings nor my intentions. I would marry you tomorrow if that’s what you wanted.”

“It is what I want.”

He shook his head. “As I said, you would be expected to sign an iron clad marriage contract upon acceptance of the engagement. One you would not be able to break later. Agreeing to marry to take down the Via Imperii will not constitute adequate cause to terminate the contract, as you will have entered into it knowingly and willingly, no matter your motives.”

I stepped closer to him as my heart began to thud in my chest. My eyes locked on his, drinking in all the longing and desperation that I found there. “I understand that.”

Hope flashed through his eyes. “You’d have to actually marry me.”

“I know.”

He stepped into my personal space, his eyes searching mine. “You’re prepared to spend the rest of your life with me?”

I shrugged, trying for a nonchalance that I did not feel. “Unless we can take them down in the next six days.”

“Is there any chance of that happening?”

“To be honest, we could take down the Cordonian branch right now.”

“But?”

I traced my fingers down his face and across his lips, my eyes taking in his hopeful expression.

His hand reached out to grasp mine. Bringing my fingers to his lips, he kissed each one individually.

My voice was thick as I whispered, “They’ll just come back. New people will take their place and you’ll never be safe.” I cleared my throat and forced a smidge of professionalism into my voice. “We have to cut off the head.”

It was the only way to keep him safe long term. It might take the Via Imperii months to years to regroup and set up a new branch in Cordonia, but regroup they would and Liam would be their first target.

His eyes lit up with delight. “You’re worried about me.”

“Of course I am.” Pulling my hand out of his grasp, I scoffed. “I’d be an idiot not to recognize the danger. Not only will they want to realize their original ends, but they’ll be out for vengeance on the monarch that helped take them down.”

“Do you always worry about the long term repercussions of your missions? Or do you usually just complete the assignment and get out?”

I stared at him in consternation. I didn’t want to answer that because the truth was that I never worried about what happened after I left. I took down my target. Cleaning up the aftermath was someone else’s job. Leo’s words echoed through my head, and I suppressed the smile that fought to bloom across my face. With a shake of my head, I lost the fight. “You’re incorrigible, you know that? I see what you’re doing.”

“What?” He grinned as he reached for me and pulled me back into his embrace. “Tell me you’re not acting illogically because you love me.”

“Shut up,” I breathed as my head fell back, giving him access to my neck and anything else he wanted.

He was right, but I wasn’t ready to say it out loud. I couldn’t.

Maybe it was a toxic trait. Maybe it was a self protection mechanism. Maybe I was just bad at relationships. Or maybe it was my equally strong feelings for his best friend that kept those three little words off the tip of my tongue.

Spoken out loud or not, my feelings…. And yes, it was time to admit that I had them…. My feelings for him were driving my decisions, not my professional ambition or my years of experience as a field agent. Leaving him vulnerable to assassination was simply not an option for me.

I would do whatever I had to do to ensure his safety, and I didn’t care about the cost.

[northern-passage]

I came across the character Branwen* in my most recent play-through and was curious if she's supposed to be Inuit or not? It was just a bit unclear since she has a chin-stripe tattoo, a Welsh name, and comes from Gael (which I'm under the impression is supposed to be Norse inspired?) Neither the Welsh/Celts or Norse had tattoos like these and the imagery of such comes from the appropriation of Inuit kakiniit. It's unfortunately common, especially in the fantasy genre, think Yasha from Critical Role, and I wouldn't really blame you for not yet knowing better. Misguided or not, it's very damaging since these tattoos are a closed practice, and Inuit have asked us not to use them for non-indigenous characters. Some other cultures have similar tattoos, but these are specifically what are appropriated from in the "Norse aesthetic".

This could be a great opportunity to represent a community that's regularly misrepresentationed and appropriated from in the genre, though! I don't believe you had any ill intentions, if this is a mistake you've made, since you've done really well about a lot of other things so far.

Also, I've done a lot of research on the topic for my own world building and I can try to help if you have any questions!

Here's a list of Inuk creators and artists from my own following (on TikTok specifically):

kadlun

willow.allen

notdayle

shinanova

And fairy.gothparent (not indigenous) has some really educational content on the subject also!

I'm sorry I've misread or misinterpreted anything, and I hope none of this came off as aggressive! I'm just genuinely curious and want to help others do better!

hi :-) no worries, you are not aggressive at all. Branwen is not meant to be Inuit, nor is she meant to be Welsh or Norse. Gael and Adrania are just Fantasy Lands with their own lore & culture-- but with that being said, i am fully aware that the setting for TNP is very much giving medieval Europe, hahahaha. regardless, when i choose names they are mainly just because i like them, so i wouldn't put too much stock in them when reading.

same thing when i designed Branwen, the tattoo was mostly for the aesthetic and because i liked it. i was aware of a few different types of indigenous tattoos (like the Māori tāmoko as well as the Inuit kakiniit) at the time i chose the thick, solid line because i was purposefully trying to avoid conflating it directly with those indigenous tattoos. you're the first person to point this out to me and i appreciate it and it has made me reevaluate my decision to give her such a distinct tattoo. i wanted tattoos to be a big part of Gaelish culture & planned for them to be made with heavy lines & geometry, but in the end a lot of the designs are all over the place (Merry's are way more modern due to basing some of the designs around nautical/sailor tattoos with only a few geometric designs, while Lea's are strictly geometric runes meant for their alchemy)

i absolutely want to avoid misrepresenting these tattoos, especially since it was never my intention for this character to be interpreted as a part of any of the mentioned indigenous groups. this is a good reminder for myself that my work does not exist in a vacuum and regardless of my intentions, the names i choose & the designs i make still reflect my own personal biases and have implications outside of my story.

i appreciate you messaging me and sharing resources. and i always want to encourage people to do so! especially because in my worldbuilding for Gael and Adrania i am pulling inspiration from a lot of different places and a lot of other fantasy media. i've always intended for Adrania to be a "melting pot," with a lot of different influences as in-game cultures converge around their ports & trade routes, but that can also lead to me unintentionally harming real world groups & cultures in my interpretations. as much as i want to "build from scratch" it's just not possible, i will always be influenced by the society i live in, hence me including the tattoo to begin with because you're right, i have seen similar designs in other fantasy media & just didn't think much about it.

going forward i'll most likely just remove that tattoo from Branwen's design, and maybe give her a neck tattoo instead 🤔 just something different to distinguish it from those indigenous designs.

[apoorhuman]

Perilously

Mc: *has a cake in front of them for their 26th birthday*

Solomon: mc

Mc: *turning their head to look at Solomon* what?

Solomon: *smirking* you know, you just turned half fifty two today right?

Mc: *chasing him*

Solomon: *running* this is ✨payback✨

Mammon: our human is old- *gets smacked by Lucifer in his back*

Lucifer: be quiet or you also ended up same like Solomon

[yeehawbvby]

MC......... UEKHGNUKVNEKNR

[kikithegr8]

[somewillwin]

Kofi request for @kimpossibilityultimate54 of angel x Mc ♥️

Taking Kofi event request til august 20th

[densetu-wolfenius]

Asmo: I'm so mad at Solomon that I will go out and take away his head being attached to his body privileges.

Mc: woooo chillax no need to go French revolution over bad cooking.

[adoriels-tears-if]

Sneak Peak of the Day

But I have to admit it's surprising, half-elves are so rare..." The female dwarf murmurs as she examines you. "Tell me, is it your mother or your father, the Elf who wallowed in shame?" she continued, tilting her head to one side.

Your father's name flashes through your skull in a painful flash. Everything you know about him flies through your mind in rapid succession. The words you say come out of your mouth before you have time to really grasp their meaning. Your heart has just burst with anger in a primal instinct. 

They have no right to attack your family, however distant and silent they may be. 

"And you, is it your mother or your father who has made you so ugly!"

Fury fills her eyes as she raises her hand. You're pushed to the side, but not before her nails bite into the skin of your left cheek. Yet it hardly stings, the satisfaction of seeing her like this is overwhelming. 

[chiefcheesecakemaker]

The boys + mcs lock screen

[naffeclipse]

So, do Grease and Hawthorn actually live somewhere (like a specific tree or a junkyard) or do they just keep moving around? And why does MC live with Calmo?

Hawthorn has a nest in a tree deep within the woods, far from where any human should wander. It's very comfortable despite looking like a great arrangement of twigs, grass, and spider silk. He will steal MC away for a night of cuddles there.

Grease has no place of refuge, but he thinks MC would like it more if he did, so he finds and converts the basement of a condemned building on the outskirts of town into a makeshift home. The first time he takes MC there, MC thinks he intends to kill MC. But no, Grease is only proud of this terrifying murder-y basement place and figures it would do the trick of impressing MC. He is wrong.

Calmo lives with MC in MC's small house due to how MC stumbles upon a garage sale nearby looking to sell a lot of old junk. MC is searching for a cute teapot but finds what appears to be a 90s computer setup. It's unlike anything MC has seen due to being strange and malformed. The man selling it gives it away practically for free to MC, saying it belonged to an uncle of his before he died, and MC takes it home with the intent of maybe finding out if it's worth anything to collectors or people into old 90s tech. Maybe make a buck or two off of it. Instead, when MC touches the computer, a slight shock jumps off of MC's fingers and into the computer, the sort that collects when walking around with socks on the carpet. MC hardly notices and continues to try and find a way to turn it on but fails. Ultimately, MC leaves it be for the night only to wake up to a robotic figure standing at the foot of MC's bed with brilliant red optics cutting through the darkness.

A scream or two later, MC officially meets Calmo. Calmo has lots of questions about, well, everything. MC allows him to stay because he needs a home and help with... whatever he is. Thus, Calmo lives with MC.

[dwead-piwate-meggers]

None of this is going anywhere

Pretty soon we'll all be old

And no one left alive will really care

About our glory days, when we sold our souls

But if you're all about the destination, then take a fucking flight.

We're going nowhere slowly, but we're seeing all the sights.