sinning, but with demons

18+ only | Minors DNI main blog: @allboysarebestboys [ Requests Closed ]

[raunchyom]

{ Blog Info }

Vin // 21 // He/Him // Bi

nsfw side blog

all content presented here is original fanfiction, headcanons, etc.

my message box is open, I’m always happy to make friends~

     Heya! I’m Vin, nice to meetcha. The short version is that I’ve always loved to write, but haven’t posted fanfic since middle school. I’ve kept up with writing my own stuff, but no fandom-related content in 10 years god I’m old. It’s good to be back, but it’s strange, too.       Frankly I don’t know how much of this blog will end up being sfw or nsfw, and it’s my first blog entirely dedicated to fanfiction. I’ll also admit that I’ve never shared my nsfw writing with anyone before, it’s always just been a guilty pleasure of mine. But hey, that’s why we’re here, right? To enjoy our guilty pleasures together.       School and work permitting, I plan to update this blog fairly regularly. Hopefully y’all will enjoy my stuff as much as I enjoy writing it!

[ Tags ]

Posts will be tagged as text, pic, or rambles

All characters will be mentioned in the tags by name for easy searching or blocking

sfw and smut will each be tagged

Dom reader and sub reader will be tagged as well, so if you only want dom or sub reader content you can follow those tags specifically

[ Rules ]

[ Masterlist ]

[ updated as of 1/25/2021 ]

[raunchyom]

Vices, Not Virtues: Patience

[ Chapter 4 ]

[ Previous ] [ Next ]

A/N: I wasn’t procrastinating writing this, I was building hype. ...yeah, don’t have any excuses, just enjoy! Tagging: @devintrinidad // @dweeb-central

word count: 3.6k || warnings: n/a

Patience is a virtue. 

Or so you kept telling yourself, as the day went on and your composure wore thin. But it really seemed that with every time that you repeated the phrase, the world seemed to test just how far you were willing to follow that ideal. 

Patience is a virtue, you thought, as you woke up late due to your third round of Lucifer’s confidence-training. More like confidence-lecturing, from your experience so far; not to mention he seemed to be keeping you later and later every time. Not that it mattered to Lucifer in the morning, he would expect you to be on time regardless. ‘If Levi can be on time after an all-nighter, you can manage a late night or two’ or some similar crap.

Patience is a virtue, you reminded yourself, smiling through gritted teeth as you agreed to help Asmo talk to his fanclub between classes. Who cared that you had been late for first period, and now were sprinting through the halls in an attempt to make it to second period on time? Certainly not you. Especially not when the door got slammed in your face, with an order to get a late slip from the office.

Patience is a virtue, you heard faintly, almost in someone else’s voice when you dug through your backpack and found your calculator missing. It was a nice one too, a graphing calculator that cost a ridiculous amount of grimm but saved you a lot of time on tests and homework. You cursed yourself for forgetting it in your room, despite being sure that you grabbed it in the morning. As you were cleaning up after class, you noticed Belphie with a familiar piece of tech sitting on top of his textbook. He’d been asleep through the entire class, he hadn’t even touched the damn thing. When you ever-so-politely woke him and asked about it, he offered a confused ‘thanks,’ then a shrug when you told him you hadn’t given it to him. He told you to feel free to take it back, saying he didn’t need it anymore. How kind of him.

Patience is a virtue, you chanted for the millionth time, returning to your room after a long day only to find that a tornado seemed to have passed through. You’d just cleaned up last night, there was no reason for your room to look even worse than it had in the first place. Levi happened to pass by as you were practicing your deep breathing techniques, peeking over your shoulder and sighing something about seeing Mammon in there earlier. He rolled his eyes and continued on to his room, and you practiced shocking self-control in not wringing the nearest demon neck. 

“Patience is a virtue,” you muttered to yourself, pinching the bridge of your nose upon finding Beel munching on the last of the food in the fridge. You didn’t have to check and see if it was the snack you’d specifically saved-- with how this day was going, you knew exactly what he was eating. 

“’M sorry…” He mumbled through a full mouth, eyes downcast as soon as he saw the look on your face. “Satan said it would be okay ‘cause he’s going to the store, so I thought...” 

“It’s fine, Beel. Don’t worry about it.” It didn’t matter how angry you were, one kicked-puppy look from Beel and it was game over. Your shoulders slumped and you left the room, determined to take a walk and clear your head. There was no way you could get anything done with how tense you were. Plus your room was a mess, and being in there meant any of the brothers could find you easily-- too easily.

Patience is a virtue.

“Mc!” Diavolo’s voice boomed down the hall. You suppressed a groan. Diavolo was always so upbeat and lively; it was usually infectious. But on a day like today, it would just be draining. Especially since you couldn’t show it, and even more so since you probably couldn’t get out of whatever this conversation was going to be about. “I was hoping I’d run into you! I wanted to talk to you about the exchange program here, do you mind?”

Scratch that, you definitely couldn’t get out of this conversation. 

“Of course not, Lord Diavolo. What do you need?” Any ounce of casualty you may be able to enjoy with Diavolo in private was null and void here; Lucifer could walk up at any moment and overhear your conversation. And a tongue-lashing from Lucifer over your manners was not something you needed right now.

The forced niceties weren’t lost on him, as was obvious from the amused expression on his face. That, or he was privy to something that you weren’t. Both were viable options when it came to Diavolo.

“Perfect!” A genuine smile lit up his face, and the moment passed. Perhaps you’d imagined it, after all? “Do you feel at home here? Comfortable?”

“Yes, it’s been going well.” It was rocky towards the beginning, sure, but you’d been in the Devildom for months now, you were more than used to it.

“Are you being treated well?” Diavolo asked, almost too quickly.

“Yes, I think so.” 

“Even by the brothers?” 

…Perhaps your earlier suspicion was warranted after all. “I’m not sure what you’re asking of me, my Lord.”

Diavolo’s face gave nothing away. Not more than usual, at least. He had a jovial expression that didn’t quite reach his eyes, and his arms were crossed over his chest loosely. He was seeking information in his own way, it seemed. “Exactly what I said. I want to be sure you’re being treated with respect, especially from your hosts. I wouldn’t want you to feel they were bad influences on you.” 

’Bad influences’? It wasn’t often you had to pick apart a demon’s words, they were typically very straightforward or very clearly up to something. Interactions like these, however, sent up red flags. Diavolo was choosing his words carefully, clearly wanting something particular. The only instance you could come up with was the family pet-project the brothers had all taken on at your expense, but surely he didn’t know about that. Or if he did, he would at least have the decency to not bring it up in the middle of the hall, where anyone could hear… Right?

“They’re treating me well. There are no problems, if that’s what you’re asking.” You gave him your most assuring smile. You didn’t have time for this, whatever it was. 

“Truly?” The corners of Diavolo’s mouth twitched, his smile threatening to shift to a smirk. “You are aware of my ability to discern whether someone is telling the truth, aren’t you?”

You felt a jolt of adrenaline, though it wasn’t clear what exactly he was threatening you of. Sure, you’d had a rough day, but that didn’t elicit unloading onto Diavolo at a simple question. He asked if you were being treated well, and you were. Today just happened to be an outlier. Well, this week. Month? “I wasn’t lying, I just--”

“There you are! I’ve been looking for you.” As if sent straight from the celestial realm, Satan rounded the corner. He smiled at you, then shifted his gaze to Diavolo. “Lord Diavolo. I hope I’m not interrupting?”

There was a palpable tension in the air, and it was clear Satan knew what he was doing. Neither of them shifted their expressions, a silent war to see who’d break character first. Diavolo replied calmly, lightly patting your shoulder. “No, we were just finishing up. I do hope you’ll think over what I said, Mc. Perhaps we can revisit this discussion soon?”

“Yes, my Lord.” Whether or not your uncertainty was portrayed by your voice, Diavolo didn’t react, instead smiling at you and relenting. He retracted his hand, giving a small wave before retreating down the stairs with Barbatos trailing just a step behind. Was he always there?

You couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief as he left, turning to your savior. “Thank you for bailing me out, Satan.”

“I aim to please.” He allowed himself a moment to be proud of himself, then looked you up and down and his expression changed into one of amused curiosity. “You seem put out. Is something the matter?”

“No, no; just tired. I’m going to get back to--” You remembered where you’d been heading, deciding in the moment to change your plans. Going on a walk to clear your head was clearly going to be impossible. “I’m going to the library to attempt some homework.” 

“Oh, you misunderstand-- I really have been looking for you. You’ve been so busy all day, I only just managed to find you.” Satan chirped, either missing your tiredness or choosing to ignore it. “Want to go on a walk?”

You had to suppress the urge to reply with sarcasm. “I appreciate your help, but I really don’t have time for--”

“That’s alright, I understand.”

“Seriously, I can’t-- wait, what?” You weren’t prepared for someone to actually respect your time.

“I understand, you’re busy.” He nodded with a solemn expression, then smiled again. “We can just go to my room instead. It’s a shorter trip than wherever a walk may take us.”

“...Of course.” You forced a smile. Patience. Patience. Patience.

-

Satan wasn’t one to invite people to his room without reason, so you weren’t often in here without knowing exactly what it was for. He must need to talk to you pretty bad for him to bring you in here. That, or he wanted to ask about some random human world fact he’d read in his latest book. As of now, he was digging around his miscellaneous piles of text, seeming to have forgotten your presence altogether. 

“Satan, is there a reason-- or, did you need something?” You asked, sounding strained. It wasn’t your intention to be rude, but the fact that you were having to remember your patience chant while standing this close to the avatar of wrath wasn’t comforting. You may have taught him to feel things other than anger, but that certainly didn’t rob him of the emotion altogether. An argument between you two could have some dire consequences. 

“Hm?” Satan’s head popped back up, temporarily drawn away from his search. When he processed what you asked, he turned back to his task, waving the question off idly. “Oh, nothing important. You seemed to need a chat, for a short break.”

“A break?” You echoed. For the love of-- he dragged you here for a break? How should he know? He’s always buried in a book, studying probably is a break for him! And he had the audacity to try and step in? “Ha, alright. Well, thanks for the break, but--”

You had barely managed to crack his door open before a hand hit the wood just above your head, slamming it shut in a single motion. 

“Perhaps I didn’t make myself clear. I want to talk.” His presence caged you against the door and made the hair on the back of your neck stand up. This was the second time within probably ten minutes that you’d been threatened by a demon, not to mention the past few days; this was clearly a new habit of yours.

The cold fear that ran through your veins wasn’t quite enough to block out the sheer exhaustion from the day you’d just had, so before turning around to meet this new obstacle, your head fell against the door in front of you with a soft thunk. You took a deep breath. The fastest way out of this would be honesty, right?

Lifting your head off the wood in what was probably an even more defeated motion, you turned around to see Satan leaning close. You tried to be polite. “Sorry, I’ve just had a long day. Can we talk another time?”

Look at that, practicing your greed. Being selfish with your time-- it’s what Mammon wanted, right?

“Why are you so busy today?” Satan asked, looking almost as annoyed as you felt. Your kneejerk reaction was ‘because of you and your stupid brothers,’ but you decided against it. There was no reason to start something. Patience.

“There’s just been…” You took a deep breath, “a lot going on.”

“That’s it?” Satan cocked an eyebrow, and when you didn’t offer a better explanation he frowned. “Is there a reason you seem more agitated than normal?”

“I’m not!” You said, a little too fast. “I’m not.” You amended, less aggressive. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to snap, you didn’t… it’s nothing.”

“How much do I have to push before you tell me what happened?” He asked, clearly done beating around the bush. 

 “I just had a rough day, that’s all. Lots going on, lots of chaos. More than normal. It’s nothing to snap at you over, it’s not your fault.”

“What if it was?” 

“What?”

“What if it was my fault? What then?”

You were at a loss. Was he asking you to get mad, as some kind of venting exercise? Or just trying to get a rise out of you? You wouldn’t put it past him; Satan did like to see others get mad.

“What if I told Belphie to take your calculator? What if I told Asmo to make you late? What if I told Mammon to mess up your room, and I got Beel to eat your food? What would you do then?” He was still just watching you, slightly annoyed. No sense of triumph, no sense of smugness over… 

“You did-- how did you-- wait, **you** did all that?” You sputtered, too thrown off to react in any significant way.

“I did.” He was curt, to the point. The ball was in your court, and he was making sure it stayed there. He was waiting for your response, for whatever reason.

“Why--” Your hands curled into fists, nails digging into your palms. What was it you were chanting earlier? Something about patience? “No, I don’t care, it’s… whatever. Just don’t do it again. Please.”

The ‘please’ was tacked on, a way to avoid confrontation. You felt so incredibly far from being the rational one, and yet you knew what would happen if you started something. Getting mad wouldn’t solve anything, the best thing to do was just to leave.

“You don’t care? You don’t care!?” Satan’s eyes flashed and he slammed his fist into the wood above your head, rattling the door. You flinched at the sound, opening your eyes back to find he was in his demon form. “Doesn’t it piss you off? Aren’t you mad at me?”

You frowned, doing your best not to take the bait. “I don’t want to argue with you. I just want to leave--”

“What if I don’t let you? What then?” He brought his face closer to yours, eyes narrowed into a glare. “I can smell it on you, you know. Your wrath. It’s apparent in your whole body; your accelerated pulse, your raised temperature, the tension in your muscles. You reek of adrenaline, why won’t you just admit it?”

Great, add Satan to the list of demons who was angrier at you than ever. He’d gotten this mad before, sure, but usually you weren’t on the receiving end-- and certainly not while this close.

“It doesn’t matter, Satan. My homework matters. So if you’ll let me leave, I can go and deal with my priorities.” You hissed. It was the most you’d stood up to one of them in a while, and certainly the first time you’d stood up for a non-virtuous reason. It wasn’t out of fear that you avoided it, it was generally just easier not to. You could argue with them on their choice of take-out any day, but it was a different story to call out their stupid shenanigans. It was often easier to brush it off and walk away-- not that Satan seemed to understand.

“Tch.” Satan leaned back, though he didn’t remove his hand from the door. His tail flicked angrily behind him, but he looked less mad than he had a moment ago. “Did you say anything? To a single one of them?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Today. Any of the people that annoyed you; did you confront a single one of them?” 

“No. I don’t want to, I just told you--”

“Did you talk to anyone about what happened?” He cut you off. “Vent to anyone at all?”

“No.” You grit your teeth.

“Why?” He snapped, “And don’t say ‘it doesn’t matter,’ your emotions matter. Try again.”

“I don’t want to be like that, okay? I don’t want to get angry at people, and blow up on them for something they can’t help.”

“Everything that happened today could’ve been helped. Every single one was doing something they could have changed if you told them to.” He countered. 

“It wasn’t their fault.”

“How?”

“Beel can’t help being hungry. Mammon can’t help being greedy. Belphie probably needed the calculator, and Asmo wanted help, they didn’t--” You remembered the whole plot that had apparently led to today. “They normally don’t have any bad intentions. It’s just how they are, there’s no point in getting mad about it, and there’s no reason to unload all of that onto one of you. No reason to complain all the time.”

“So instead of ‘complaining,’ you keep it all bottled up, never let out your emotions, and let the feelings fester inside of you until you can’t stand it anymore? Or do you think you can keep these things to yourself forever? How does this seem like a good idea?” 

“I don’t keep it to myself forever! I just don’t… bring it up.” It sounded worse aloud, but it was all you had. Satan was hard to debate with on a normal day, much less something he was passionate about, especially less when he was mad at the person he was arguing against. It was infuriating to be on the receiving end of that.

“Ah, so you wait for other people to bring it up for you? Is that why you wouldn’t answer when I asked what was wrong?” He couldn’t even force a threatening smile, instead continuing to stare you down. “I don’t make a habit of begging people for things. Yet, I did earlier regardless, and you wouldn’t offer so much as an explanation as to why you were upset. Is it so hard to believe that there are people who want to listen? Change their behavior, even?”

“It’s hard to bring up things that I know will tick me off when I talk about it. Or things that I know will anger others by talking about it. I would rather enjoy my time with people.” You gave up on suppressing your emotions, letting the aggravation seep into your voice. Whether it was your tone or your words, it seemed to be what Satan wanted to hear.

“People would rather enjoy your time in being told ‘stop’ rather than anger you without knowing it. Surely you can see how letting anger build up will strain your relationships? Even if it wasn’t them, refusing to vent or claiming things are fine while clearly upset-- can you see how it might go wrong?” Despite still berating you, Satan’s words were becoming softer, sounding less like an attack and more like chiding. Though that didn’t mean he was suddenly acting cuddly by any stretch. “Not to mention that you should vent for your own wellbeing. You can’t possibly argue that it’s healthy to keep your emotions bottled up?”

He paused, ready to pounce if you disagreed. When you stayed quiet, he continued.

“I don’t think I need to explain to you the intricacies of putting on a mask around others. You know as well as I do what will happen if the one wearing it is pushed too far, and that mask shatters. Attempting to hide your emotions can only be done for so long, and when they are realized, the consequences can be…” He frowned. There could be any number of instances he was thinking of, considering how often he was known to lose his composure in the past when pushed beyond a certain point. Satan had mentioned a number of times where it had gone catastrophically wrong, so you were sure he was a million miles away when he trailed off.

He shook his head after a bit, determined to explain. “Tell me you’ll do better. Vent to someone about today, better yet-- confront someone who took part. I won’t demand your time and attention every night, but I still want to see you…” 

Satan let his sentence trail off, the jab at Lucifer forgotten as he momentarily short-circuited at his desire to be around you. “I-I want to see you make progress. Talk to others, set boundaries; get mad, even.”

“I will.”

“Will you?” He looked serious again, ready to gauge if you sounded ingenuine.

“I will.” You said again, shoving him backwards suddenly. He stumbled back a step, surprised. “I’ll start now: I’m mad at you. You made my day a damn nightmare.”

Satan burst into laughter, pleasantly surprised. You couldn’t help but smile back, though you weren’t entirely kidding. His laughter was enough to rid him of his demon form, so by the time he spoke, he was back in his regular attire. “A good start. Would you like to explain what I did wrong?”

“Well gee, where do I begin…” 

[raunchyom]

Sneak peek at Vices, Not Virtues chapter 4

(Yes, I am officially back to working on vnv. Chapter 4 is going well, as you can see)

[raunchyom]

Vices, Not Virtues: Kindness

[ Chapter 3 ]

[ Previous ] [ Next ]

A/N: Surprise! Wasn’t planning to have this out on Levi’s birthday, but also wasn’t planning that hiatus. School, amirite? On the plus side, I’ll officially be free by May 1, at which point I can start updating this (semi-) regularly again, so look forward to it! Tagging: @devintrinidad // @dweeb-central

word count: 2.7k || warnings: n/a

Listening to Leviathan rant was pretty much something that came with the territory of being his friend.

Whether about anime, his brothers, video games, anime, school, socializing, normies… oh, and don’t forget anime. There was always something on his mind, and his severely limited social circle meant you were often the recipient of his rants. Today in particular, it spanned a lot of different topics. Your recent absence hadn’t gone unnoticed, and the way he was going on made it seem like he’d bottled up every single emotion over the past few days and shoved them into a box labelled ‘re-open for Mc.’ 

Not that you loved him any less for it, of course. Poor Levi really couldn’t catch a break, and he was so excited to have someone like you who really cared about him-- well, who could blame him for wanting to open up?

Over the past week in particular, he’d been subjected to the usual trauma around the house. Apparently, he’d had Asmo and Satan gang up on him about never leaving the house, even the bookworm agreeing that Levi was too far gone. Mammon had ‘borrowed’ something of his, only for it to never return. Levi knew it was a bad idea every time, but he was too easily won over by promises of his investments being worth it. The last Akuzon delivery was supposed to be a limited edition maid-cafe-style Ruri-chan figurine, that smelled like her bean-cake best friend Azuki-tan-- which, of course, meant that Beel took a bite out of the package before Levi could get there to stop him. Lucifer had lectured him about grades, saying that he knew Levi could do better, if only he stopped playing video games so much-- “as if that’s a compliment!” 

Levi finally stopped pacing, rolling his eyes at the mere memory of it. He glanced down to where you sat, perched on the side of his tub. 

It wasn’t the most comfortable seat in the house, but his room wasn’t exactly made for visitors; you had to make do when you were there for a rant. He’d generally start talking while playing a video game, then gradually pause it, turn around, and eventually stand up and act out his frustrations. It was better for you to just start off seated on the side of his tub, that way he would have an aquarium backdrop for when he inevitably paced in front of you. It gave you a nicer view from the start, and when he wanted to sit again, he could choose to pull up his gaming chair or, if he was feeling particularly bold, sit down next to you.

As if he heard your thoughts, Levi plopped down next to you with a frustrated sigh. “Ugh, they totally don’t deserve to have you helping them all the time.” He grumbled, almost as if talking to himself. “I mean, I don’t either. I don’t know why you spend so much time around some gross otaku. And listen to all my problems, and--”

“Levi, it’s fine.” You assured him, “I don’t mind; we’re friends.” 

Levi glanced at you from the corner of his eye, as if he didn’t believe you. He shifted his gaze back to the fish tank in front of him and continued, “Still, I know I’m always venting to you, and…” 

The lack of eye contact didn’t prevent him from seizing up in your presence. You could practically see the buffering symbol in his brain, mouth wavering as he tried to force the words out. His face was getting red just from knowing your eyes were on him, somehow feeling as if every moment you waited politely for him to continue was a moment of pure torture.

“You don’t ever talk to me.” He mumbled. The words slurred together, as if he could barely convince himself to enunciate the syllables. He fumbled with the cord of his headphones and his stare shifted to the floor. Even eye contact with the fish must’ve been too much.

“We talk all the time.” You sounded much less sure than you felt, probably more out of hurt than anything. Did your friendship not mean as much as you thought it did? 

“That’s not what I--!” Levi frowned harder, tugging more incessantly at his headphones. He huffed out a frustrated breath, knowing what he wanted to say but not how to say it. “You do talk to me, but… you listen to me a lot more…” 

“So… you want me to talk more?” Levi was usually pretty easy to read. Sure, he didn’t say his emotions outright, but they were often written all over his face. In times like this though, when he was stuttering and refusing to make eye contact even more than normal, he wasn’t quite as transparent.

“No! Well, I mean, yes, but not-- I meant-- why don’t you ever ask?” Levi finally blurted out, surprising you both. “...for help? Why don’t you ever ask for help?”

“Uh… what?” Well, this was out of nowhere. You were supposed to be listening to his problems, but now he was upset that you hadn’t brought up yours? Was there some part of his rant that you were supposed to cut into with your own? 

“I notice, around the house, and RAD, and-- and everywhere. You never let people help you with things. You never ask for it yourself, even when you need it.” After a second, his eyes widened. “Not-- Not that I watch you! I-It’s nothing weird like that! I-I’m gross, and an otaku, and-- b-but-- I don’t st-stalk you or anything!” 

It was funny, watching Levi dig his own grave deeper. On the one hand, it was amusing to hear Levi desperately try to explain away any potential misinterpretation, but it was mixed with a fair amount of confusion about what his point was supposed to be. Your face must have portrayed this in some way, or at least one of these two emotions, because a cursory glance from Levi had him forcing himself back on track before he could say anything worse.

“I mean, I get why you don’t want my help. I-I’m just some yucky otaku, who’s anti-social and um, probably couldn’t help with anything anyway.” Levi was really good at kicking himself while he was down. Given, he always seemed to be down, and he always seemed to be kicking himself.

“Levi, that’s not why...” The words fell away halfway through your sentence, having caught yourself before admitting to anything. 

“So why?” You may have caught yourself before admitting anything too damning, but Levi caught it too. He was dense, not an idiot. “No, you don’t have to tell me. I mean, there’s a lot of other reasons you might not ask for help, too. Maybe you don’t want to feel weak, or admit that you need help from other people. Or maybe it’s because it’s hard to ask someone for something, when you’re already annoying them just by being around them. Or…  that last one is probably just me.”

“You’re not annoy--”

“It’s not about that!” Levi cut you off, determined to make his point. “The point is, you can’t do everything by yourself. Even Henry has the seven lords to help him. And Ruri-chan has her friends. In fact, her friends are what make her so--”

Levi took a deep breath, for once stopping his own tirade about anime. “Can you just… tell me why, at least?”

Song references aside, it wasn’t an easy question to answer, even if you wanted to. Levi didn’t often ask for this kind of thing though, which made it hard to turn him down. “It’s a lot of things, like you said. I just want to show that I can. Do things on my own, I mean.”

Levi frowned, unsure how to combat you. He already wasn’t exactly a pro on asking people for help, he holed up in his room too much for that. He had been, so far, basing it off the rare times he left his room. But now you were mentioning something that he could relate to on some level, except… “You… want to prove yourself?”

“I guess.” Not how you’d phrase it, necessarily, but not entirely inaccurate. Or really, it was oversimplifying the issue by a long shot, but it was better to give Levi half credit rather than no credit. His self esteem could certainly use it.

“But why!? You’re-- you’re so cool! You made a pact with every demon in the House of Lamentation! You could make a pact with Diavolo if you tried! You taught Satan to control his anger, you got Asmo to care about someone other than himself, you stood up to Lucifer when he was going to kill Beel and Luke-- and you, too!--, you got Belphie to get along with everyone again, you even died and--” It could’ve been that he realized what he was saying, or it could’ve been that he saw your face when he brought it up; either way, Levi clamped his mouth shut mid-sentence.

“I-I mean, not everyone gets to respawn.” He mumbled, hoping a video game reference would make it less awkward again. After a moment of silence, he reiterated his original point. “You don’t need to prove yourself. You already have.” 

It was heartwarming, hearing Levi sing your praises as he did. But that wasn’t exactly a quick fix for the fact that asking for help meant admitting you were bad at something. Or even just admitting to needing help at all. Lucifer said he had to teach you some pride, well here was a lesson you could skip. This one you knew well: don’t want to swallow your pride and ask for help? Easy, just don’t ever ask!

Levi seemed antsy to fill the silence, but managed to hit the nail on the head when he spoke again. “I know how it feels, when you see someone that’s better than you at something. It’s frustrating. And painful. Especially if you’re supposed to be the best, and then someone else knows more than you do, about a book series that they just read for the first time, and then spoil stuff about the one that hasn’t even been released yet, even though you’re the number one TSL fan and they shouldn’t even have that informa--”

“That was one time!” You protested. Levi let out a puff of air that was somewhere in between a scoff and a snort, but he didn’t seem to be legitimately angry. Then again, leave it to Levi to hold a grudge from the early days of the exchange program.

“Sometimes though, you can use that jealousy. Being jealous of someone can drive you to get better at things, or to learn from them. Or just ask them for help, if you have to. I’m never gonna work out like Beel, so if I need help lifting something I’ll just ask him for help doing it.” He deliberately didn’t mention his past experiences in asking for Beel’s help in getting fit, hoping you didn’t know about the devilgram posts Asmo made about it. You did, but decided to let it go. After a moment of consideration, he added, “I usually have to pay him with food, though.

“We may not always get along, but at least my brothers and I know how to depend on each other. Lucifer may act-- well, be annoyed a lot, but there’s a reason everyone goes to him for help. He helps the people he cares about… even if it comes with a lecture. Everyone knows to go to Satan if they need information, or help studying. Asmo’s so good with fashion that he works with Majolish, and still--” Levi’s chest puffed out a bit as he spoke-- “he comes to me for help in design too, since he knows I’m the best at cosplays.”

“That almost sounded like you were complimenting yourself.” Levi deflated a bit at your teasing tone, both embarrassed and a bit self-conscious. You felt some guilt about the latter, but none from the former. Not when his embarrassment meant his face scrunched up like that, and he floundered to go back on his own claims.

“W-Well, I didn’t mean-- of course I’m good at otaku stuff! A normie wouldn’t understand!” He floundered, clearly at a loss for what to say if he was falling back on calling you a normie. That was pretty much his version of sticking his tongue out when he lost.

“It’s hard to imagine Mammon ever gets asked for help.” You offered, trying to get him back on track. ...and maybe continue to push his buttons just a tad.

“That idiot--” Levi took a deep breath, gritting his teeth as he sought a way to talk about Mammon without including some form of insult, “He gets into trouble all the time, obviously. He’s a moron because of the kind of trouble he gets into, not because he asks for help. At least he knows to come to us for help when he needs it.”

At that, Levi gave you a pointed look. Well, consider that the last time you ever try to help him get back on track.

“Mc, none of us will think less of you. People usually consider it an ego-boost if someone comes to them for help. Especially if it’s y--” Levi fumbled, quick to brush past his near-slip. “If anything, we want to help. If you asked for help with your work and school and things, you’d have more time to yourself; for watching anime and playing games.” 

Levi tried to make it sound like he was being benevolent, but the implied ‘with me’ was hard to miss.

“So, you could try asking for help some more, to lighten your load. If you want. It would make me--  um, make u-us feel better, too.” He seemed content in ending it there, and made an effort to end any potential continuation of the topic. Flipping on a dime, Levi was quick to talk over any potential response. “Th-That’s all, anyways!  Uh, we can just-- go back to, you know. Playing devilcart, or um, we can watch some anime, or--”

“Thank you, Levi.” You had to put a hand on his arm to make him listen, the simple action instantly sending the touch-starved demon into fight-or-flight mode. “I’ll try.”

He swallowed back his nerves and nodded, surprised he had managed to make it through that whole talk. You were too, really, as soon as you realized that this was supposed to be his intervention for you.

As much as you might loathe to admit it, his talk made sense. Or at least it had some aspects of truth to it, and perhaps you felt marginally better about asking the bros for help. Levi made it very clear how he felt about wanting to help you, the least you could do was see if the others felt the same. And hey, maybe he had a point about people wanting you to ask them for help in general, too. Who would’ve guessed it, but so far these demons seemed to know a thing or two about sinning.

---

“Is something the matter, my Lord?”

“It’s been awfully quiet the past few days. I wonder what those brothers are up to?” Boredom generally caused Diavolo’s mind to wander to the Devildom’s most notorious troublemakers, but this week especially. His fellow members of the student council had been quieter than normal, without even a yelling match in days; much less something exciting enough to warrant Diavolo’s attention. Thus leaving the prince here, sighing as he pondered their goings on.

Barbatos poured Diavolo’s tea with a knowing smile. “They have been quite busy this week.”

“Oh?”

“It seems they’re corrupting Mc.” Barbatos spoke as if it were a common occurrence. 

Diavolo chuckled. “Should we be worried?”

“Quite the opposite. They’re working together to get Mc to take better care of themself.”

“Is that so?” Lethargy had caused Diavolo to ignore his tea at first, but the new information made him forget about it altogether. Diavolo sat up straighter, excitement tugging his mouth into a smile. “Perhaps I’ll bring tomorrow’s meeting to Lucifer, and pay the house of lamentation a visit.”

“Of course, my Lord.”

[raunchyom]

His Only Henry

Leviathan x Reader

A/N: I sat down to write last night, expecting a cohesive story, and this is what came out instead. But if you wanted a one-shot about Levi falling for an MC who only sees him as a friend, then boy howdy do I have some good news for you. 

word count: 1.3k || warnings: brief suggestive language

There was something so sickeningly satisfying in the sheer irony behind it all. The avatar of envy being the one who had to watch everything play out.

From the start, Levi couldn’t help liking you. He tried to push you away, but you were so damn persistent. Truth be told, he didn’t even want to talk to you at first. He was only doing it because of what he could gain from it. At some point, things changed, and he found himself enjoying your company. Levi even found himself calling you a friend, down the line.

Well, to say ‘a friend’ would be to put it lightly. Levi tried not to lie to himself. You weren’t just a friend, but his first friend. His only friend, really. He was fine with it that way, he didn’t need anyone else. You were his Henry, and he was your… what?

Your friend? What did that even mean to you? All of his brothers were your friends. The angels and that shady sorcerer were your friends. The prince of the devildom and his butler, they were your friends too. Did being friends even mean anything to you? Not like it did to him, surely. You were his one and only friend. Didn’t you understand that? He didn’t have anyone else. If he had to choose between you and the rest of the world, it would be you. It would always be you. Didn’t you see what you meant to him? Couldn’t you feel the same?

No, of course not. He didn’t let himself entertain the thought; it hurt too much. Levi knew who you were, and he knew who he was. You were Henry. His one and only Henry. And he was the third lord, one of several brothers who you could throw out at any time. You were too kind for that, of course. You’d never throw him to the wayside, even if he did deserve it. The knowledge only made it worse. He’d rather you just toss him out now, rather than drawing out this painful process of getting closer and closer to each of the other brothers in turn, slowly getting more and more distant from Levi.

His brothers didn’t deserve you. No one deserved you, least of all him. He knew that well. Levi was a disgusting shut-in, an otaku. A social anxious, socially outcast, weakling of a demon. He was one of the seven rulers of the devildom, but he didn’t hold a candle to his brothers. Every litter has a runt, and Levi knew where he stood in the pecking order. Being one of the older brothers just made all of his drawbacks that much more pathetic. If you were to choose a brother, for whatever reason, it wouldn’t be him. It shouldn’t be him. You deserved better than that.

It was as he knew well-- you were his one and only Henry, and he was just another friend to you. Levi wanted you to feel the same as he did; to be your one and only. He’d settle for best friend, or whichever term you chose for the friend who was closest to you. But that wasn’t the relationship you two had. Levi once confessed that you were his best friend, and you had said the same, not knowing the weight of those words. You may call him a friend, sometimes even your best, but it somehow hurt more to hear you say it and know you didn’t mean it like he did. It didn’t help that he didn’t want to be your friend. 

Levi wanted to be close to you, but he was beyond ready to move past the way you two did it. God, just your hugs were orgasmic. It was an excuse to hold you against him and breathe in your scent. His face always went red and betrayed his thoughts to some degree, but it was worth it to be able to feel you this close. So close, and yet still with such a wide gap between you as he thought of all the things he wished you were doing instead. Levi wanted to hold you, but he wanted it to mean something else. He liked when your fingers accidentally brushed his, but he wanted to lace them together before you pulled away, to take hold of your hand. He wanted you to lean in like you did, but he wanted you to lean in further for a kiss. He wanted you to rub his arm, but not that friendly touch; he wanted you to be sliding his shirt off when you did. He wanted you to touch his hair, but rather than some friendly ruffle, he wanted you to take a fistful of it, and-- well, it didn’t really matter what he wanted, did it? Because you were friends. Best friends. And that was all you would ever be.

You were such close friends, in fact, that Levi got to watch the exact moment in which you fell in love. 

-

The various brothers had, in a general sense, some sort of reason as to why their demon forms looked as they did. The avatar of pride had peacock designs on his jacket, a tribute to nature’s token show-off. The avatar of gluttony had the wings of a fly, a creature known for flying around and feasting on anything it could find. The avatar of wrath had a skeletal tail, a tribute to his terrifying nature to bare claws, teeth, even bone when it came to a fight. So the avatar of envy, too, made sense.

Levi watched as you flitted from demon to demon, interacting with each of the brothers in turn, then the various angels, demons, and other nameless faces that spoke to you; lighting up the room as you made your rounds. It didn’t matter what the occasion was that night, your presence would cause a commotion at any event. Whether or not you wanted to be the center of attention, you were the star around here. Everyone loved you, everyone wanted to see you, and everyone wanted to steal some of your time. You always let them too, at least to some degree. 

That night, like many nights, Lucifer strode up to you. The cockiest of the brothers, for good reason. He was the strongest, the smartest, and had the respect of the most other demons. On that night, Lucifer held out his hand, smirked, and asked for a dance. His request wasn’t something that you were allowed to refuse, but the look on your face made it clear that you wouldn’t have turned him down either way. 

The two of you danced, and Lucifer held you flush against him. No one could deny the chemistry between you two, or the magnetic pull that seemed to glue your bodies together. Neither you nor Lucifer cared about the rest of the room beyond each other. Your face was red, your smile wide, and your joy infectious. Even the demons who longed to be in Lucifer’s place couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

Levi watched this, and he came to realize why his demon form was serpentine. He felt the envy slither under his skin, coiling around his intestines and squeezing them until his fists curled into balls. He was shaking, practically hissing as he seethed; his quiet, jealousy-fueled rage such a drastic contrast to wrath’s loud outbursts. It was a hideous feeling, blood running cold just from watching the bastard swing you around in circles. In that moment, it didn’t matter that Levi was some gross otaku who didn’t deserve your love. It mattered that no one did, but Lucifer got it regardless. Levi would’ve been the worst choice of all of them, but his sin didn’t care. He deserved to watch this happen, but he still hated every second of it.

There was something so sickeningly satisfying in the sheer irony behind it all. The avatar of envy being the one who had to watch his soulmate fall in love with someone else.

[raunchyom]

Hey y’all, sorry for goin dark for so long. School and family life has been crazy, I’ve barely had any time to write (trust me, I hate it too). On the plus side, after a couple exams next week, I think my schedule will open up enough that I can actually work on vnv some more! Just wanted to let y’all know what’s goin on, promise I’m not gone ^^’ Will be postin again as soon as I can, thanks for bein patient in the meantime!

[raunchyom]

This just in: when you reply on a post on your secondary blog, it comes from your primary blog. Not that I just learned that the hard way or anything, just uh. Makin an observation. In general.

[raunchyom]

Vices, Not Virtues: Charity

[ Chapter 2 ]

[ Previous ] [ Next ]

A/N: Man, this took a helluva lot longer than I thought it would. It also ended up being a helluva lot longer than I thought it would, despite what I said on the last chapter. Oops. Hope y’all like long fics ^^’ Tagging: @devintrinidad

word count: 3k || warnings: n/a​

Since arriving in the Devildom, you’d been perpetually busy. 

Whether baking with Luke or shopping with Asmo, reading with Satan or snacking with Beel, practicing magic with Solomon or playing body pillow for Belphie, going to class or doing mountains of homework-- it was always something, and it always added up to a very full schedule.

Today was no different. Lucifer had insisted on keeping you until you were practically asleep in his study last night, only relenting because you had class the next day. And it wasn’t as if you could fall asleep when you got back to your room-- you had things due tomorrow, and a full schedule to try and get back on track of.

You’d mostly succeeded on the homework front, even finishing with enough time for a solid 4 hours of sleep that night. The pre-class D.D.D. tutorial you’d promised to Simeon happened right on schedule, and you successfully stayed awake for your entire first and second periods. You snuck out of third period to help Asmo with his latest fashion emergency, then managed the rest of third and fourth period without a hitch. You spent lunch listening to the newest anime-oriented drama from Levi, then attended the last of your classes. A text popped up from Beel just thirty minutes before school was over that he made a mistake, and needed your advice. You went ahead and offered to help clean the kitchen, already guessing what had happened. Overall, it was a pretty standard day.

Well, standard or not, once you’d gotten back to your room-- and finished cleaning up the wreckage that Beel had severely understated in his messages-- it was late, with a lot left to do. You opened your door, mentally blocking out how much time it should take to complete everything. Your math left you confident that you could get 4 hours of sleep again tonight, maybe even 5 if you really focused. You set your backpack down, feeling better, and flopped into your desk chair. The second your butt hit the cushion, you felt your D.D.D. buzz from your pocket.

You groaned, head hitting the desk with a soft ‘thunk’. Didn’t your phone know that you were busy?

As if it could hear your thoughts, the device vibrated again, eliciting a sigh. Pity party successfully waylaid, you dug your D.D.D. out of your pocket and checked the notifications.

It was a string of texts, all from Mammon. First he asked what you were doing, then where you were. The next one said to forget both of those; he needed you to come help him with homework in his room. When you hadn’t answered fast enough, he began to spam you with angry emojis.

He was acting like a brat, but that was his version of begging. He was always struggling in his classes, and your tutoring usually helped; you couldn’t fault him for wanting to improve his grades. And so, ignoring everything you had to do, you decided to help him. After all, isn’t that what being a good friend is all about?

You stood up, tossing your backpack on again. If you factored your study session into your schedule, that would put you at 4 hours of sleep tops. No, the likelihood it would only take an hour was slim; probably 3.5 hours of sleep. Another text-- make that two-- made your D.D.D. buzz again; both demanding you reply, the second saying you didn’t have a choice in whether to help. ...Maybe 2.5 hours.

Your first knock on his door was met with silence, and you briefly considered leaving to do your own homework. But no-- you came to help, you should help.

“Mammon?” You tried again, knocking louder.

“Finally! Get in here already!” He yelled through the door.

Mammon was on his couch, backpack tossed a good ways away from him. Though he had a textbook on his coffee table, and plenty of papers scattered across the surface, he didn’t seem to be working on anything specific. It didn’t help that he was upside-down on his couch; his legs thrown over the back cushion and head hanging off the front. It wasn’t the typical doing-homework pose, but far be it from you to tell what Mammon was thinking.

“You sure took your time!” He tossed his D.D.D. to the side, pointing an accusing finger in your direction.

“I walked straight here when I got your texts.”

“Yeah, well, you should already know when I want ya here.” He huffed, then practically fell off the couch amidst his panicked backpedaling. “Not-- Not that I want ya here, I mean! The Great Mammon doesn’t want some human around, crampin’ his style! I just--!” He rolled into a normal sitting position, the redness in his face no longer the result of being upside-down. 

“You wanted my help with homework, right?” You tried to throw him a life raft, but it went right over his head.

“What? Homework? We had homework!?” He asked, now looking frazzled for a different reason. You took a deep breath, briefly wondering how this scatterbrain remembered to put pants on every morning.

“Mammon, why did you ask me to come over?” You finally asked, trying to get him back on track.

“I asked… oh! Yeah! I uh…” He glanced at his table, a mess of papers that he hadn’t looked at since dumping them out of his folder. He looked back up at you expectantly. “Mc, do you have any money?”

...Oh, so that’s what this was about. It was hard not to feel disappointed that he had lied to get you here, but at least he got right to the point. “Yeah, sure, what happ-- ah, whatever. How much do you need?” 

You reached for your wallet, hoping to just fork over the grimm and go back to what you were doing. He hadn’t asked in a while, so this was probably legit. Probably. He would promise to pay it back, with every intention of doing so, and then forget to, or run into more debt. It was a vicious cycle; you were happy to not be a part of it. Well, at least it was nice while it lasted.

“What? No, that’s not-- ya shouldn’t be handin’ out money like that!” Mammon nagged, effectively freezing your hand in midair. If he didn’t want money, why was he asking? “You don’t needta give your stuff away to people just ‘cause they ask, that’s how people take advantage of ya!”

At first, his behavior didn’t make sense, but the gears started turning on what was going on. You shoved your wallet back into place, trying not to sound as exhausted as you felt. “Is this because of Lucifer?”

“Lucifer?” He echoed, confused.

“You know, his whole idea of giving you guys a week to…” You gestured vaguely, not wanting to say ‘teach me to sin’ for multiple reasons; “uh, talk to me?”

“Whaddya mean Lucifer?” He sounded affronted at the thought. “It was MY idea!” He huffed, crossing his arms.

“You thought of this?” It was surprising, but you felt inclined to believe him. He didn’t like to admit that he cared; he wouldn’t suddenly lie about being worried enough to bring it up to his brothers. Either way, as sweet as it was, good intentions wouldn’t save your grades. But maybe if he had gotten you into this mess, he could get you out of it. At the very least, he might be able to get you out of today’s lecture. “Mammon, I really appreciate it, but I don’t have time to--”

“Exactly! Ya never have time!” He launched up off the couch, flinging his arms out dramatically as he spoke. “You’re always givin’ it away to everybody else! Just like your stuff, and your grimm! Do ya ever even spend anythin’ on yourself?” 

“Of course I do.” You replied easily. He made it seem as if you were emptying your pockets for anyone who asked. You weren’t some human piggy bank, you bought yourself stuff all the time.

“Oh yeah? When’s the last time ya bought somethin’ for yourself, then? And food doesn’t count! Neither does stuff ya need for school, or takin’ care of yourself. When’s the last time ya bought something just ‘cause ya wanted it?” He asked, hands on his hips.

“I, uh…” That was a lot of rules. You tried to flip back in your mind. You weren’t exactly a big spender; certainly not since you’d arrived in the Devildom with so little time to work for extra cash. To Mammon’s point, you could only think of things you bought out of necessity. A snack when you didn’t have time for lunch. A new pair of shoes when yours were falling apart. Some toiletries when you needed them. A new uniform when your jacket was torn beyond repair, and you didn’t want to bother anyone about it.

“But you’re always buyin’ stuff for others!” Mammon let your thoughts wander enough to make his point, but he had to cut in eventually. “Remember how I usedta ask for money all the time?” 

“I mean-- it’s been a while.” It was a meager attempt at defense, but it was true. You couldn’t remember the last time he came to your door, brown-nosing his way into your pockets.

“Yeah, well, when ya first got here, you gave your grimm away freely, always buyin’ stuff for people-- so I thought ya had a buncha money. Then I heard Lucifer sayin’ ya don’t have much, and you were sayin’ ya wanted to save some, so I stopped askin’! But nobody else knows, so they keep askin’, and you keep givin’ it to ‘em! I know you don’t have stuff to be givin’ away either, I’ve been through--” He caught himself before he admitted it out loud, but you were well aware of the fact that Mammon had rooted through your stuff at the beginning. He had stopped at this point… you hoped. “No one here wants to take advantage of ya, but they don’t know they’re doin’ it. Ya gotta tell people not to ask for so much-- I mean, I’m the avatar of greed, and I feel bad takin’ your stuff! I bet the others would feel the same!” 

It was hard to tell whether he cared more about your financial situation or about making his brothers feel guilty. “I think--”

“Don’t even get me started about your time!” Mammon didn’t let you get a word in edgewise, advancing towards you as he ranted. He didn’t realize he was doing it; the action a subconscious result of his rising emotions. You took a few steps back, but soon bumped into furniture and had to stop. “You’re always busy, and ya got tons’a homework, but ya never say no when people ask for help! Do ya even have time to be here right now? Or do ya have somethin’ you could be doin’ instead?” 

It was a fair point, but hard to take from the one who’d brought you here. “It’s fine, I like to help out.”

“Help yourself out!” This was the second time within 24 hours that you’d gotten chewed out for not taking proper care of yourself. There was a familiar churning in your gut-- a leaden mixture of guilt and anxiety. Not to mention a dash of adrenaline from being within range of an angry demon. That last one happened a lot around here, though. “Try sayin’ no to people once in awhile! You stretch yourself too thin and eventually there’s gonna be nothin’ left!”

Mammon finally took a breath, letting his shoulders slump as he exhaled. He averted his eyes, his voice much softer when he next spoke. “Besides… I miss ya, Mc. You keep givin’ away your time, and overworkin’ yourself, and all of a sudden… I never see ya anymore.” 

His gaze flitted back to your face, and it finally dawned on him just how close he’d gotten. He was nearly pinning you against his pool table at this point. His face turned bright red, and he leapt backwards, crossing his arms to maintain his pride. “A-Anyway! You don’t owe anyone anything. So stop acting like it.”

“I don’t act like--”

“Oi, and don’t interrupt the Great Mammon!”

You rolled your eyes, but conceded. He had been difficult from his very first text tonight, it was probably easier to just humor him at this point.

“Ya play therapist for the house all the time. Ya mediate fights, listen to people’s problems, give out advice when you’re asked-- even when ya don’t know what to say. Maybe it’s about time ya let us know when ya aren’t up to it. I mean, no one's gonna fault ya for takin’ a vacation day.” It wasn’t a perfect metaphor, but it conveyed his point well enough. “The house has been a lot calmer since ya got here. Everybody knows it-- you do too, dontcha?” 

It was true that you’d been complimented on your demon-wrangling skills by many people before. ...Including the brothers, oftentimes. “Well, yeah, but you guys should always be able to come to me. I want to be there for you.”

“Well I wanna be there for you, too!” Mammon blurted, looking desperate. Well, until he realized what he said, his expression then switching to panic as he frantically backpedaled. “I mean-- we do! T-They do! Or-- everyone else does, but I-I’ve got better stuff to… Ah, what am I sayin’? We all wanna be there for ya, Mc. But that means when ya have a hard day, and we ask if ya have time... ya gotta say no. How would you feel, if ya learned that we all forced ourselves to be around ya?”

A pang of guilt shot through your chest. “It isn’t like that; you guys aren’t a burden. I want to help--”

“Yeah, and I wanna sell Levi’s expensive shut-in stuff for extra cash, but sometimes ya gotta think about what ya wanna do versus what ya can do. I’m not very… I mean, I dunno about uh, emotions and... all that, but…” Suddenly Mammon’s tsundere thing made a lot of sense; he was a lot better at denial than candor. “Well, ya can’t help us if ya can’t help yourself!”

Again, he had a point. This time he wasn’t being a hypocrite, so it made it harder to come up with a rebuttal. “Everyone has bad days, I don’t have to shut people out whenever I’m not at one hundred percent.”

“Man, you sure are lucky Lucifer has a soft spot for ya. All this back talk would get me in hot water.” Mammon sighed. “Just listen to me for once, wouldja?”

You crossed your arms, unimpressed. He chose to interpret it as a yes.

“I know ya wanna have some free time. And I know ya wanna keep some of your money saved up, whatever it’s for. Well… If sayin’ no is hard for ya, maybe we can start ya off with a test drive.”

“A… test drive...?” Nope, he lost you.

“Y’see, I’ll take the fall tonight. I’m gonna say we’re studyin’. Or that I’m still givin’ ya my peace. But… go back to your room, do whatcha want. Don’t matter what-- homework, sleepin’, whatever. Just don’t let anyone take it from ya. Matter’a fact, if someone asks for ya: practice sayin’ no. If ya gotta give ‘em a reason, tell ‘em it’s my fault.” 

“You sure?” He was essentially offering to be your guard dog for the night, which was quite a monumental task-- especially since people already assumed Mammon was at fault for things in general, and wouldn’t hesitate to take their anger out on him.

“Yeah, yeah; just don’t go and think I’m gonna keep doin’ this forever! Ya gotta learn to say no on your own, without me havin’ to do it for you all the time! I got goldie to worry about, I don’t need another credit card overspendin’ itself and-- w-well, I just don’t wanna haveta deal with it if ya run outta money and come cryin’ to-- oi!” You wrapped him in a hug, able to feel the shock run up his spine at your sign of gratitude. 

“I-I toldja, I ain’t doin’ it for you!” Mammon protested, but near instantly caved; stealing the chance to hug you back. He puffed out a defeated breath, adding, “I’m gonna watch out for ya human, I mean it. I wanna make sure you can keep gettin’ better, so… If ya ever gotta turn someone down in the future, or tell ‘em no for any reason, and ya can’t bring yourself to do it… You can always tell ‘em it’s on me. I’m your first man, you can always depend on me to help ya out.”

“Thank you, really.” He held you for just a beat longer before he relented, switching back to his brusque demeanor the moment he let go. 

“Yeah, yeah, keep thankin’ me and you’re gonna waste all your free time before it even starts. Get outta here already! I got stuff to do too, y’know.” He waved you off, but he was refusing eye contact for a reason.

Leaving Mammon’s room, your steps felt light, and a rush of warmth flooded your chest as you recalled his praise. Sure, it was followed by nagging, or saying it wasn’t always good for you-- but it was definitely nice to hear that the brothers really did think of you as their confidant. 

You stood a little taller; almost as if you felt a sense of pride.

[raunchyom]

Tag Lists

(aka another small announcement)

Hello again! Sorry for a second announcement instead of a VnV update; as you may have noticed from my writing, I have a tendency to overexplain go into detail-- chapter 2 may be taking longer than expected because I’m trying to judge whether it’s too long-- so, suffice to say, I like making announcements to give a full explanation of what’s goin on.

First of all: I’m so glad you guys are enjoying my stuff! Every time someone leaves a like I get so hyped; if you go so far as to reblog or reply to one of the things I post, well, know that I love you forever and would do anything for you. Anything. The law is just a suggestion.

Now, with the mushy stuff outta the way-- I wanted to address @devintrinidad‘s comment on the prologue for Vices, not Virtues in a post, so more people can see it. First, thank you so much for the compliment I would kill for you; second, for your question about whether or not I tag people for VnV updates: Frankly, I didn’t expect people to interact with my stuff much (if any), much less want to be tagged in it. That being said, I’m more than happy to start a tag list, I just haven’t put a system into place. I figure I’ll make a more coherent system when I post a masterlist, but since that’s likely going to wait until after I finish more of VnV (at the very least, after I post Chapter 2), I’ll go ahead and keep a list in my notes to use in the meantime.

All that being said: if anyone wants to be added to the tag list for VnV, reblog or reply to this post (or send an ask with your url, whatever floats your boat) and let me know! I’m so glad people like my stuff, filling requests like this are no problem at all!! Thanks again y’all, I really appreciate the support! As for an update on timing for the next chapter: I’ll have it out by the end of the weekend. I’m hoping for tomorrow night, but we’ll see about that one. Look forward to it!

[raunchyom]

Small Announcement

Hey all, just a little update about tags and things.

If you see my tagging system changing around a lot for the next little while, bear with me— as I’ve mentioned, it’s my first blog like this and tumblr’s tagging system is... well, tumblr.

I’ll probably end up changing how I organize things a number of times before I settle on how I like it. I don’t exactly have a lot of content yet, so nothing’s moving too much— just don’t be surprised if I mess with tags on my posts a couple times before landing on something I’m happy with.

No matter what, I’ll make sure to keep my pinned post updated as to how I’m tagging things, so you can block/search tags as ya please. I will make another announcement when I’ve settled on something more definitive!

[raunchyom]

Okay but... imagine Beel with an oral fixation?

(who am I kidding, we all know it’s canon)

I’m still working on VnV, but it’s 1 am, Beel’s song came out today, and I’m thirsty as hell; so have a massive thirst post I work on Mammon’s chapter. Unless you’re only here for the fluff, which is valid too. For the rest of ya, well, I hope you enjoy my first public thirst post~

warnings: nsfw, oral, gn!mc but mentions both afab and amab anatomy

His kisses would always come with tongue. Beel would do his best to be polite in public, or if you hadn’t yet given an indication that these were to go beyond light pecks-- but the avatar of gluttony wouldn’t be one to hold back. He’d soon be lapping at your lips, using his movements to ask what his words didn’t. If you granted his request, be prepared to have Beel’s tongue become as much a resident of your mouth as your own. He’d want to taste everything, and when it still wasn’t enough, he’d pull away to kiss you everywhere else. He’d be the type to pull away and leave a line of spit still connecting you. 

He’d kiss all down your body, tongue following every place his lips went. His mouth would go to your ears first, lapping at the shell and nipping at your cartilage, quickly moving to your jaw, then neck. He’d lick and kiss down the side, starting to bite as he reached your collar. His bites would be gentle, careful-- if he didn’t keep himself in check, he could very well take a chunk out of you. Then again, Beel can be absent minded, and as he got further down, working himself up more as he reached your chest, he may bite a little harder than he meant to. He’d apologize in an instant, kissing the sore spot to make it better. And who could fault him when he gave you those puppy dog eyes?

He’d absolutely beg you to ride his face, craving your taste more than any food. Once you climbed on, he’d waste no time teasing you, only drawing out the foreplay if he was somehow patient enough to really savour his meal. He’d watch your face those times, enjoying your expressions and the noises that you made. But he’d grow tired of holding back soon enough, and suddenly his tongue would be deeper than you remembered him ever being able to reach before. He would hear your moans, and he’d feel your fingers tangle in his hair, but the real pleasure would come from tasting you. If he was really enjoying himself, he would squeeze his eyes shut, focusing solely on what he sensed with his tongue; then seeing how he could move his lips or tilt his head to elicit even more reactions from you. From the first moment you arched your back, he’d circle his arms around your thighs, pinning you to his face. He’d keep up his pace through your first orgasm without even meaning to do so. He was just so hungry, and you tasted so good… Needless to say, he’d stop if you really asked him to; all mumbled apologies and downcast eyes, hoping to be forgiven just enough that you’d let him do it again. If you didn’t stop him though, and instead let him bring you to a second, or a third, or… Well, suffice to say, he would keep eating until he was made to stop.

Or alternatively, imagine how he’d suck you off; so eager no matter what your size. We all know he’s never heard of a gag reflex. He’d get on his knees before you even asked him to, looking to your face for permission-- taking your entire length into his mouth the moment he got it. Your praises would be well received, and he’d swirl his tongue around every inch of skin, wanting to taste all of you. He wouldn’t be able to keep all his drool in his mouth, the poor boy’s chin completely coated in saliva before you even got close to finishing. He wouldn’t pull back to swallow his spit, instead letting you feel his throat tighten around you when he tried to keep from salivating too much. Once you got closer to the edge, tugging on his hair as warning, he would take you all the way into his mouth; holding you against him if he was in a good position to do so. And of course he would swallow every drop-- he could never get enough of your taste. Anything he might’ve initially missed would be swept up by his fingers, a low moan in his throat as he licked them clean. He’d want to lap up anything left on you as well, whether on your legs, stomach, or still-sensitive groin-- and he wouldn’t wait for you to come down before he tried to clean it up. You’d have to tug him off of you before he realized that it might be too much. He’d apologize in much the same way as mentioned before; red in the face, regretting his actions only so far as hoping he’d be allowed to do it again in the near future. If you didn’t pull him off though, whether by gritting your teeth through it or recovering quickly, he would happily start his pace up again. He’d glance to your face as he realized he was passing what might be considered ‘cleaning up,’ but he would never question an opportunity for an extra meal.

That would only be the beginning of how all he wanted to use his mouth on you, though. He’d be an absolute mess if you thanked him, considering it to be more of a favor to himself than something for you. That’s not to mention if you went so far as to offer to do the same for him…

[raunchyom]

Vices, Not Virtues: Humility

[ Chapter 1 ]

[ Previous ] [ Next ]

A/N: I’m leaving it vague as to whether Mc is in a relationship with any of the brothers, similar to the lessons; there’s innuendos and flirting, but no explicit romance on Mc’s behalf. I didn’t intend for this chapter to be so long, it just sort of happened... whoops. The other parts will probably be shorter, but I’m not worrying about it too much. Feel free to read: please reblog or reply; I love knowing what people think of my stuff!

word count: 2.5k || warnings: n/a 

“We need to talk” was never a good thing.

Being summoned to Lucifer’s study was fairly common. He regularly checked on you through private meetings to discuss grades, his brothers, and all manner of things related to your life in the devildom. He also made his fair share of requests for your time as a de-stressor, when he eventually admitted that your presence comforted him. 

He gave out punishments too though, and despite his soft spot for you, he wouldn’t hesitate to call you into his office to remind you of the rules. It was no secret when he was upset, and he would make it very clear what-- or rather, who-- the cause was.

That being said, Lucifer was always straightforward in why he was asking for you. He may not be specific, but he’d at least give some sort of warning. Some mention of grades, his brothers, or your chores. You would at least know whether to prepare an apology or not.

Today though, there was no reason. Well, there clearly was; he wouldn’t call you for no reason. But you only got two texts: “Come to my study after class,” and “we need to talk.”

Anxiety gnawed at your gut. What could he want to talk about? The recent humanities test? You did okay on it-- despite the class meaning something slightly different in the devildom than it did in the human realm-- so it shouldn’t be that. Had you forgotten to do chores? You almost forgot that you were on cooking duty the other night, was he upset about that? Was it how busy you were, not making enough time for him? Or maybe--

Suffice to say, by the time you knocked on his door, you’d already started your mental packing list. If it was serious enough that he wouldn’t even say it over text, you may as well prepare yourself for the trip back home. It would be the best case scenario, even.

“Mc? Come in.” Opening the door revealed Lucifer to be sitting at his desk, the glasses on his face showing that he was doing paperwork before you arrived. At a glance, it didn’t seem like Diavolo was in there, but maybe you didn’t deserve his presence at your exit ceremony. 

“Shut the door behind you.” Lucifer was skilled at conveying a lot in just a few words. It was an unspoken rule that when invited in, you were to enter the room and close the door, then wait for him to tell you what to do next. He knew you were aware of this rule-- rather, he was pointing out your hesitation, and telling you to hurry up.

Lucifer crossed his arms as you carried out his request, watching your movements with an unamused expression. He was impossible to read, but you could tell when you were on your way to the chopping block.

“Come, you may set your things in the chair.” It wasn’t an offer. You tracked the distance using the grain of the floor as you approached, shoulders remaining tense even as you pulled a chair out and dropped your backpack into it. 

Only when the silence felt suffocating did you force your eyes up; they crawled up the desk, over his arms and his chest, until you finally met his gaze. He seemed to tower over you, glaring down his nose, despite being reclined in his leather chair an entire table’s length away. He narrowed his eyes, brows furrowing. Quick to look away again, you decided eye contact was a bad idea.

“You had a humanities test last week.” You flinched, but he continued on, “I know you already got the results back. I recall asking to see your grades from that class in the past. Why haven’t you shown it to me?” Lucifer was a student council member, not to mention had many strings he could pull among the staff-- he could easily get access to your grades if he wanted them. He’d done so in the past, when you dodged his questions about grades one too many times. He was asking you directly because he wanted to see you squirm.

“I’m sorry, I’ve been busy lately, and--”

“It’s alright,” He said, a smile gracing his features. Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, but the relief was short-lived as his smile turned ice-cold. He leaned forwards onto the desk, clasping his hands in front of him. “You can show me now.”

Another command, masquerading as a suggestion. You knew better than to lie about not having it, so you dug the paper out of your backpack and handed it over. He looked down at the test, then up at you, peering over his glasses as if he were a professor himself.

“Color me impressed.”

“I got lucky, it wasn’t anything special. I guessed for at least half of that.” You crossed your arms, though it looked more pitiful than defensive. As if you were trying to give yourself a hug, though the sleeves of your uniform tightened under your anxious grip.

“Mc, you got the highest score in the class. Ninety-five percent is not the result of ‘half-guessing’.” He replied, deadpan. He’d seen the grades beforehand after all.

“I mean, it’s just human studies, it makes sense that I know a little more about it than other subjects. I have an unfair advantage, is all.” Your reasoning must’ve tired him, because it earned you a sigh. He took off his glasses and set them on the desk, appearing less stern when he looked at you again. 

“Do you know why I asked you to bring me your grades from humanities?” 

You chanced a glance at him, but his face gave nothing away. If seeing your grade wasn’t enough to sate him, what did he want from this? You shook your head.

“Because I wanted to give you something to brag about.” Lucifer’s statement brought your train of thought to an abrupt halt. You blinked back at him, confused. “Your grades have been improving lately, especially in that class. I’ve seen how hard you work to make that happen, and yet you refuse to share your successes with me. I first believed it to be fear of failure, or perhaps of disappointment, but even in your best classes, you didn’t dare to broach the topic. You don’t to this day, despite being expressly asked to!” He gestured at the exam on his desk, exasperated. “Why?”

“I…” It was a lot of things, of course, but none were easy to explain. Lucifer gave you a moment to figure out what to say, surprisingly patient-- until you said, “It’s not worth your time. It’s not that impressive.”

Lucifer’s expression dropped from exasperated concern back into one of irritation. “Are you trying to insult me?”

“No.” You answered meekly.

“Then why would you bother to say you aren’t worth my time? I believe I have made it exceedingly clear that I wish to spend time with you. I ask for your free time and you have none. I ask for your grades and you hide them. I give you my praise and you refuse it.” He stood from his chair, working himself up again. Guilt weighed on you heavily, and though you couldn’t place exactly why-- it was definitely about more than your grades.

“I’m sorry.” 

“Why?” He spoke so quickly that he almost talked over you, leaving you floundering for a reply.

“I… don’t know.”

“Don’t apologize if you don’t know what you’re sorry for.” 

“Okay, I’m sorry.” You replied, earning your second sigh from Lucifer. He pinched the bridge of his nose. He was going to need to find a different approach. 

“Mc, I know the lesser demons talk about you behind your back.” The sudden change of direction was shocking enough, but this was a touchy subject. You fought to keep a neutral expression, retreating to your original plan of avoiding eye contact. Lucifer walked around his desk, sliding himself between you and his work area. He somehow managed to find a position that both encroached on your personal space and allowed him to lean against a portion of the surface that wasn’t covered in papers. “I know it happens when you’re around, too. I know you don’t say anything about it, and you certainly don’t correct them. …I know you agree with them.” The accusations were true, but it didn’t make them any less painful.

“Mc, look at me.” You didn’t want to get into any more trouble, this whole experience was already painful enough. But you doubted your ability to hold it together if he delivered any kind of finishing blow while making eye contact.

A gloved hand gripped your chin, surprisingly delicate, and tilted your face up to look at his. You couldn’t imagine what kind of expression you were making, but it must’ve been pitiful; as soon as you met his eyes he softened his gaze, and his grip on your chin shifted so that he could gently stroke your cheek with his thumb. “I’m not mad at you.”

Well, that would’ve been nice to hear before you walked in the door.

“I’m worried about you.” His already low-pitched voice was soft as he said it, words laced with concern. Your heart broke, and you instantly changed your mind-- this was worse. 

“Lucifer, I…” You struggled to find the words, caught off-guard by his sudden change in demeanor. “I’m fine, I promise.” It wasn’t a matter of lying to him, it was a matter of doing anything you could to keep that expression off his face. It didn’t suit him, and it just made you feel worse. 

“I don’t like when you lie to me.” He called your bluff immediately. “Besides, it’s been this way for a long time, hasn’t it?” His hand fell away from your face, landing on your shoulder. He didn’t need to ask, he knew the answer. “When did you lose your sense of pride?”

It was hard to ignore the stinging from behind your eyes; the best you could hope for was that Lucifer wouldn’t notice. It was a worthless hope to have, but he at least had the decency to refrain from commenting on it.

“You’re allowed to be proud of your accomplishments, Mc. Big or small. Even if it comes easily, you can always be proud of a job well done. It applies all the more if you work hard to achieve it. You are allowed to accept that your effort paid off, and you can brag about it. I should know.” He smirked a bit, but the moment passed quickly. “Moreover, you can be proud of yourself. Who you are, how far you’ve come. You aren’t the same person you were a year ago, that’s a sign of progress. And… you can be proud of the way you look.” At his last sentence, he stood up off the desk, stepping further into your bubble. 

Your pulse quickened, but the flurry of emotions you were dealing with made it impossible to tell which one was responsible.

“Turn this way.” Lucifer used your shoulders to guide you towards a corner of the room. Your movements were stiff, but he maintained his grace, easily leading you to a full-length mirror against the wall that you hadn’t noticed until now. He sought to meet your eyes through the reflection, but you averted your gaze. 

“I’ve seen the way you act around mirrors. I sometimes wonder how you brush your hair in the morning.” He mused, briefly combing his fingers through your locks. “Why don’t you ever look?”

“I don’t like to.” It was barely a whisper, but he didn’t have to hear you. He knew the answer.

“Look again.” It was hard, but you did as he instructed. He brought his head down, breath tickling your ear when he spoke again. “You’re looking at the most attractive human in the three realms.”

Your heart swelled at the compliment, but it wasn’t exactly easy to believe. “I’m not-- I mean, I think that’s an exaggeration…” You amended, careful to avoid going against what he said.

Lucifer snorted. “Do you really think seven of the most powerful demons in the devildom would fall for you at once if you weren’t attractive?”

You couldn’t fight the blush that rose to your face from that one, though it was comforting to see that Lucifer was affected too. He had the slightest tinge of pink on his cheeks; even the brief mention of his true feelings was a momentous occasion for him. He wasn’t exactly the warm and fuzzy type.

“Lucifer, I-” You attempted to turn and face him, but his grip on your shoulders tightened and he prevented you from moving.

“We aren’t done, human.” The switch had flipped again, and he was back to bottling up whatever emotion had temporarily risen to the surface. You were back to ‘human’ rather than ‘Mc’, which was another sign. “Look back into that mirror, and listen to me.”

You did as he asked, your eyes drawn to his. You caught him looking you up and down, like he was sizing up his next victim.

“You did not come all the way to the devildom to spend a year being virtuous to a fault. We are going to teach you to sin.” He chuckled at your expression, but cut you some slack; he leaned back slightly, though still held you in place by your shoulders. “Rather, you are going to learn how to enjoy life, from demons. I’ve entrusted my brothers with assisting you in their own ways; they will each get one day to teach you how to better take care of yourself. I’ve elected to go first, for a lesson in humility.” 

You could swear you’d just finished your first lesson. This entire meeting had been torture, and now he was saying it wasn’t done yet? No, not even-- he was saying that it had yet to begin.

“Don’t expect me to let you off easy, either. As we’ve established, you have a long way to go. I may only have one day, but I’ll be assigning homework. If I don’t think you’re keeping up, I will require you to attend study sessions. We can start with something simple: find five things you like about yourself-- no, I’ll even let you start with one-- and tell me about it.” Despite suggesting such a basic self-confidence booster, Lucifer beamed-- well, he wore his favorite smile at least, the one that terrified demons and mortals alike. “You can’t repeat anything I’ve told you today, and you have to believe it. Prove to me that you believe it.”

Your head was spinning. He had just bombarded you with compliments-- albeit oddly threatening ones-- for far longer than you could take, and now he was expecting you to keep the work up on your own? Starting now, and lasting until… when? Did you need to add this to your list of assignments for class? 

“I’m waiting, Mc.”

This was going to be a long week.

[raunchyom]

Vices, Not Virtues

[ Prologue ]

[ Next ]

A/N: This idea definitely not just a 7-part self-callout has been rattling around in my brain for a while, and I decided that I may as well share the wealth with my fellow exchange students, considering anyone who’s been a student anywhere can confirm-- none of us take proper care of ourselves. We could all probably use these talks. That being said, this is only the prologue, and each brother will eventually get a chapter of his own.

It wasn’t so much that they all noticed it at once. It was more about the little things that built up over time. Little things that got worse as time went on and stress built up.

For Lucifer, it was your humility. That isn’t to say he wanted your pride to rival his own, but he saw how you deflected compliments and avoided mirrors. The way you were sure that you were in no way good enough. It was bad enough that you let the lesser demons at RAD talked about you behind your back- no, oftentimes right in front of your face- it was worse that you didn’t disagree with anything they said. You did everything you could to hide your grades from Lucifer, even the good ones. When he brought them up, you’d claim it was just luck, and that you still needed to work harder. There was modesty, and then there was ignoring reality.

For Mammon, it was your charity. Or maybe ‘sacrifice’ would be a better term. It was how you were so willing to give up anything you had to anyone who needed it, or even just wanted it. At first, Mammon was happy to take advantage of this, assuming you were generous because you had a lot to give. But he soon realized you weren’t exactly rolling in grimm yourself-- as an exchange student, you barely had enough to get by in the first place. It wasn’t limited to material possessions either- you would give up all your free time to those who wanted it, even when you had none to give. If someone asked a favor of you, or even just to spend time with you, you would. No matter what other obligations you had, or how little down time you had in between, you were willing to give away your time and self to benefit others.

For Leviathan, it was your kindness. Your earnest nature was refreshing; you listened to him, genuinely cared and always wanted to help. He got jealous when he noticed you helping others in the same way, but begrudgingly accepted it on account of knowing that you were (unfortunately) a very nice person. Though despite your concern for everyone else, you never looked out for yourself or asked for help. Someone would have to notice your struggles and offer, oftentimes having to practically force their help on you in order for you to accept it at all. God knows you played therapist for the brothers all the time, the least they could do was help you when you needed it. Levi just wished you’d ask.

For Satan, it was your patience. Your endless, senseless patience. It started with little things, like when Mammon slipped and splattered his dinner all over your uniform, and you didn’t say a word. Or when you came to study in the library, but Levi’s screaming at a game from down the hall made it impossible to focus. You simply closed your book and moved on. You didn’t even make a fuss when you bombed the test later, instead blaming a lack of effort on your part. At first Satan thought maybe he was overreacting and should learn to be more like you, but as the instances got more and more severe, he realized you weren’t just patient, you were passive.

For Asmodeus, it was your chastity. Well, yes, it was your overall abstinence, but the chastity was what clued him in. He first thought you were simply uninterested in sex, since it was unfathomable for someone to be unattracted to him. It wasn’t that though- or at least, there was more to it. When he teased you, or tried to touch you, you’d reel back or change the topic. He was disappointed, but it was more than that. You didn’t just avoid pleasure from him, you avoided pleasure from anyone. Or any...thing, really. He rarely ever saw you enjoying yourself, unless someone had invited you to hang out, and you happened to be enjoying yourself too. He burst into your room unannounced many times for many reasons- but at some point he began to do it to try and catch you taking a break. He never could. You were always doing schoolwork, or doing someone a favor, or… Well, you get the idea.

For Beelzebub, it was your temperance. There was nothing wrong with dieting, or having a small appetite, but there were one too many meals where you just… didn’t eat. When you first started to eat less, he was happy to take the leftovers you offered, but eventually the food came with a side of guilt. Then came the meals where you simply wouldn’t show up, either claiming you didn’t have time or just flat out forgetting to eat altogether. Sure, it wouldn’t kill you to skip a meal once in a while, but he missed seeing you at the dinner table. Even more so, he worried about your health. How could you possibly be getting proper nutrition if you constantly forgot to eat?

For Belphegor, it was your diligence. Belphie didn’t understand how someone could put so much effort into anything, especially something dull like school or housework. You claimed to not enjoy it, but any time he saw you, you were at your desk, or in the library, or doing something productive. The rare times you weren’t doing those things, you were spending with someone else, either helping them to be productive or trying to maintain a bond. The more time he spent around you, the more he realized you worked yourself to the bone. He invited you to take naps with him a lot, only ever getting you to accept when he claimed to really need it. Eventually his invitations were more out of concern than a desire to see you- he had to wonder if the times you two slept together were the only times you slept at all.

Each of the brothers noticed a severe lack of their respective vices in your actions, to the point where you could use a bit less virtue- to put it bluntly. Too much of a good thing, as they say. So when one of them finally broke the silence about it while you were away, the brothers collectively decided to talk to you. And that was how your week-long intervention began.

[raunchyom]

{ Rules }

This blog includes NSFW content. As such, it is 18+ only and minors will be blocked. 

General

This blog is for fanfiction, headcanons, and general obey me x reader content. For the foreseeable future I will only be writing for OM characters, so don’t make requests for characters from other content.

I will only write “x MC” or “x reader”, with the occasional polyamory being the only exception

This is a gn!MC (and rarely m!MC) only blog. There’s tons of f!MC content elsewhere if you want it. I’ll do afab or amab, but if I don’t need to specify I won’t.

[ NSFW / Request Rules ]

Definitely

Fluffy content

LGBT content

polyamory

general kink-related or nsfw content

Definitely Not

noncon

pedophilia

homophobia, racism, sexism, or abuse of any kind

breeding kinks

“bathroom” kinks

I don’t promise to take every request or suggestion, but I always love to have people interact with my blog! If you ever want to send me an ask or a message, please do-- I always love making new friends!

[updated as of 5/13/2021]