For the ever patient and lovely @memaidraws, who has waited a long time for this and been an absolute star. Thank you, darling!
Come To Me
The city is quiet today.
Fitting, that it should be. After all, had the people of Baldur’s Gate ever truly elected an Archduke freely and of their own will? Yet here he stood, about to be given that honour and be named Archduke Enver Gortash ... about to take hold of the power just within his grasp and finally set in motion the final act of this narrative.
A day long in the coming, yet none too soon given the varying spanners being thrown into the ironworks of his plan. No ... their plan. Oh, yes, he knew she was out there - his favourite assassin, his partner-in-all. Orin really shouldn’t have let that slip to him. Until that moment, he had expected to have to wrestle control of the Netherbrain for himself alone once he finally skinned the pathetic braggart who had killed his love. But now ...
A slow smile coaxed the corners of his lips into an upward curve, unnervingly soft for anyone who had not known him when he was at his lowest. With Ketheric dead, Orin was already pushing her luck, and now she had informed him she was not his only option. Such a witless little fool she was, so devoted to the gore and bloodlust of her god that she forgot her own mortality. He would enjoy unlocking the keys to her destruction at the hands of the woman she thought she had defeated. And once that was done ... he would have his love returned to him, his partner-in-all. His Archduchess, dripping in blood. Just as he liked her.
The dukes and nobles were watching him, both respectful and wary. They all knew of the unrest in the city, unwittingly stirred up by the Prism-bearers as they entered and began to explore a city that remembered most of them. Perhaps the dukes even knew just who the leader of that wayward band of adventuring heroes was. Perhaps they knew how dangerous it might be to cross her now she was returned to the Gate.
There she was, right on time. She never could resist an invitation from him, even now. And, gods, but she was a sight to behold. Sharp features unsoftened, unashamed of that deadly jaw and piercing brown gaze, dark hair his fingers itched to tug at pulled taut into the braid he had used in so many interesting ways during those early days of their all-too-brief alliance. Her armour was stained with blood, no doubt horrifying those nobles who never used a knife for more than cutting their meat at table, and her eyes ... her eyes burned. He knew that look; that curiosity, that demand, that need to know that he could use to lure her in once again. All that was missing was the familiar arrogance of her lust as she looked on him, and that, he knew, could be kindled anew.
“Ah, Viveka,” he declared, moving to greet her. “It has been too long. Welcome home.”
He could have laughed at the outraged surprise in her eyes; clearly, she had not considered that she might be known by the people she was meeting in the city. Orin truly had scrambled her mind, but not so much that she had not come home to him, not so much that she was not still the deadliest sword dancer he had ever known, the bloodiest death-dealer he had ever had the privilege to witness. Reports from across the Coast had shown him all too well how little her talents and skills had abandoned her.
As they spoke, as he explained the plan she and he had concocted together, the plan that could still become reality, his gaze flickered to her hands, to the long fingers he could almost feel on his skin once again. His mind’s eye drifted over her, removing layers of leather and metal and cloth, remembering the glorious sight of her arrayed before him, lost in lust and perhaps learning something more even as he showed her what it was to truly be worshipped as the goddess he intended to make her. He heard in his mind’s ear her cries of shuddering ecstasy, the surprise, the delight, the crowing need for more. He recalled the heat of her mouth on his, the sharpness of her teeth on his skin, the aching vulnerability he had shown her and finally coaxed her to show to him. The softness hidden beneath the bloody armour of Bhaal’s Chosen that had been her downfall.
Anger surged in him as he recalled again how Orin had boasted and bragged of the death-dealing she had given to her sister; of the torment and torture that had only been possible because he had drawn from Viveka a feeling she had not known she was capable of. If she had not been so distracted with considering ways to kill him for making her feel that, she would not have been such an easy mark for Orin’s selfish ambitions. He would not allow that to happen again. This time, Viveka would deal with Orin first.
And just like the dark-haired siren he remembered, words were not enough for her to be convinced of his sincerity in offering this alliance. Her eyes, almost golden-touched in the afternoon sunlight, travelled over him, examining every facet of his face and form, reading him as intuitively as she always had. Some part of her recalled, it had to. Why else would she be giving him the time of day? And if there was a chance, however small, to regain what had been lost, then he had nothing to hide.
Let her see the loving lust in his eyes, the wetness of his lips, the clench of his hands. Let her note the way he leaned toward her just enough, the way he almost snarled as her male companion reached to get her attention. The possessive desire that flared hot in his gaze as her eyes locked with his ... and let her feel it as an echo of that same yearning need ignited the suppressed sparks within her.
Let her swallow down that sudden desire to touch and be touched, to feel pain and pleasure combined in the arms of the one man whom she could ever truly trust with her heart, her mind, and her body. Let her burn as he stepped back, bowing to her with seeming indifferent politeness, extending a further invitation to enjoy the party.
Had she not been removed from him, she would have been at his side at this party. Let her imagine that as he mingled among the great and the good of Baldur’s Gate, careful never to fully lose sight of her. He made a point to catch her eye often enough that she could not take her watchful eyes from him, noting how her interest surged each time he paid a little too much attention to other dark-haired beauties in the room. He had not thought he would be able to kindle her longing so easily, but surely this was what he wanted? Her thoughts to revolve around him until she was mad with longing; Until she would do anything for him, as he would for her.
Oh, how difficult it was to ignore her, to mingle and charm and be the warm, strong leader these dukes and nobles thought they had elected to his position. To be the centre of attention when all he truly wished was to slip away with her, to the library, to his study, to a closet, and show her once more how good they were together. It seemed an age that he had to make nice with these people, all the while feeling the Netherbrain pushing against his grip, feeling her eyes on him.
But it was necessary. Even he knew these things could not be rushed. She had to wallow in the feelings he had roused, discover for herself the true treachery of her sister, bathe herself in blood and Bhaal’s favour. She had to walk the streets of the city they had planned to take, reminded of him with every turn she took, every Steel Watch she saw, every toast raised in his honour. She had to learn that the burning within her could only be quenched by one decision alone. Only then would she be ready.
Only then would he send her a missive with three short words, certain that she would not be able to refuse.
Ya know what sex scratch’s are? When you claw onto you man’s back during the do and drag your nails down their back unknowingly in a wave of ecstasy and end up leaving visible marks on their back for like a week…
Now imagine Diavolo, Lucifer, Mammon and Simeon with his exposed back 💀 all being called out by the brothers on separate occasions and being embarrassed but then rubbing it in their face that they got some and the brothers didn’t.
With a female reader please 👉👈
But only if you can! :)
no Anon because I own the No Shame Squad 😎
ajkdlfggh awhwhhhh you are so sweet,, thank youuuuu,, it's so heartwarming to hear such a friendly ask~
Here's what I've got, please enjoy <3
Diavolo
Diavolo is not only not embarrassed about it, he doesn't even notice at first what's taken the others' attention.
Maybe he accidentally spilled something and took off everything up top while Barbatos fetched a replacement. Either way, everyone is staring and he's just wondering if the drink stained his skin or something.
At least until Asmo lets out a whistle.
"Asmodeus! You will show Lord Diavolo appropriate respect."
"Oh, that wasn't for Diavolo, big brother. Wouldn't you agree our favorite human is pretty impressive? Leaving marks on the crown prince, of all people - so bold~"
- aaaaaaand then Diavolo gets it. The brothers are lucky if he doesn't just start walking around in demon form all the time, actually.
Their only hope is that you will notice this behavior, which isn't unlikely, because Diavolo doesn't see why on earth you would disapprove of it!
You'd have a hard time convincing him not to run around shirtless because isn't it just amazing? He has proof of your pleasure! Battle scars from your lovemaking~
He's a very persuasive bastard too so depending on your temperament he's going to make it sound very romantic or just get you horny again.
Honestly, just for him, the more he thinks about it, the more turned on he gets.
Even his closest friends treat him with respect befitting of his station. Both Barbatos and Lucifer would panic incessantly if he ever came to harm.
You scratch him up like a wildcat, leave bruises and bitemarks littered over his skin without regard to appearance or station.
Diavolo's cheeks flush just thinking about it, and any argument you intend to make against his showing off has an additional hurdle to get through.
And while his position comes with limitations - so many limitations, he curses himself for them all - even if he cannot make a pact with you, it pleases him immensely that you can still leave your mark on him.
You are so very lovely, and so very weak, fragile, and smaller than him, but you've got all this fight in you anyways. Approaching him, claiming him, fearless and fierce.
Sometimes, he looks at all you've done - all the loyalties won, all the pacts collected, all your power you've just barely come into and your bravery he thinks shines even brighter than Lucifer, and he wonders if he is the weak one, and you're holding back for his sake.
Were it so, he wouldn't waste a second telling you to ruin him completely, if it could mean he could be a little bit more yours.
Honestly, he's starting to think he'd prefer for you to leave these marks against his chest, where they're even more visible.
There's nothing in the world quite like seeing just where you've touched him, where you've enjoyed him, and carved that truth into his skin.
DIavolo wants to watch you claw your way through his body, over every inch that pleases you, prove your touch everywhere you can. He's not untouchable, not to you, and he never wants to be.
-
Lucifer
-
NOPE these marks are for his eyes and his alone. Maybe yours, if he could turn his back to you for even a moment. Prudifer does not bare his skin to just anyone for their viewing pleasure, thank you very much.
Having said that, he finds it completely and utterly delightful, in a somewhat condescending "ah, the scratch of an adorable kitten" sort of way.
If you ask him he'll readily confess that he doesn't mind them at all, thoroughly unabashed. He is your lover after all, it's only natural for you to use his body as you please, as he does with yours.
If you offer to do it more often, he'll probably deflect with a smile and a scoff, telling you to let him earn these marks - he's more than capable of it.
If you're wondering what he's deflecting...
Yeah, Lucifer thinks it's insanely hot. Probably more than anyone else on this list. He's a demon of pride, and the thought of you asserting yourself in any way? Showing dominance? Marking him as yours?
Really, it would have him weak in the knees, if he weren't busy going to town on you while you were scratching him up.
It becomes a little more apparent one day when you approach his sitting form from behind, quite casually, as you often do.
You run your fingers through his hair - you're well aware by now that no one can sneak up on Lucifer, much less someone he pays as much attention to as you - in just the way he likes.
Lucifer leans into your touch, humming softly as you pet his hair, gentle scrapes of your nails against his scalp as silky locks slide over your fingers.
The way he almost presses his head back into your hand, as if he's urging you to pet him harder, quite reminds you of a cat, and soon enough your touch trickles down the back of his neck -
Oh. That's not a hum, or even one of those little relieved groans he makes during a massage.
You worm your fingers underneath his several layers of clothing, just enough to drag your nails tightly against the soft skin between his shoulders and a full-fledged moan escapes him.
Of course, Lucifer is a demon, and demons are neither very good nor very patient when it comes to resisting temptation...
You know what comes next, don't you, master?
-
Mammon
Another bastard who would absolutely walk around shirtless to show off the claim his human has staked. If he weren't so tsuntsun about it all the time.
However, I feel like if you were together with him, as an official couple, he'd be wayyy less embarrassed about it and just lowkey deliriously happy about it.
Listen, human, ya don't get this Devildom etiquette stuff, it's normal sometimes to show your partner a little special lovin' like this! It's like the pact marks that you got - him first, of course - and it's a matter of pride!!
Don't you want 'em all to know how much you like him, how he's your demon, 100%, how he makes you feel so good -
Okay yeah confident Mammon can't quite take this either he'd be blushing and looking away, trailing off and growing erect in his pants while his mind goes back to... things.
He's also the only one on the list who would like, really rub it in. Diavolo and Simeon are too nice to do it intentionally, and Lucifer is more likely to rub in that you chose him than that he actually had sex with you.
Mammon, though? Mammon is ALWAYS ready to talk about how much his human wants them.
He'd take a picture of his back and post it to the HoL group chat in what had to be his most transparent attention grab ever.
It totally works. Unfortunately his brothers are the Avatars of Sin so they channel their jealousy in pretty mean ways.
"What a delicious physique~! Too bad it's wasted on a scumbag like you, just like our precious human."
"Delicious... now I'm hungry."
"Mammon is acting like an idiot again. I guess you're going to play favorites again and not even punish him, huh, Lucifer?"
"Oh? Did Mammon get mauled by a wild animal again? Perhaps one of those harmless domestic cats you've been feeding, Satan?"
"It wouldn't make sense for a demon like him to fall victim to something like that. But
it's Mammon, so anything is possible. If he'd contracted rabies, it would explain why he's acting so deranged."
"lololol even SATAN is joining in on Lucifer dunking you. That's what you get for showing off, scumbag!"
Don't feel too bad for him. They're all seething on the inside, and it was totally a dick move on his part.
Lucky for him, he's got the precious human all to himself to comfort him. Or gouge red lines into his back so fast he sees stars.
Mammon might be a model but every time he goes to a shirtless shoot and the photographers and producers give him awkward/disapproving looks.
He pretends he doesn't know what's wrong until someone points it out to him, then inevitably blushes and laughs, "Whoops! Guess I forgot about that!"
As if he hadn't been counting the seconds until he could get you to redo your work >.>
-
Simeon
Okay so. I'm gonna have to deviate from some expectations people may have of me. For whatever reason I just get dom vibes from Simeon. He just. Seems like that.
He has very strong unflappability, he's great at being polite and pointed while still tearing people down, and just all around calm, composed, and good at getting what he wants out of an exchange.
This is not to say that you couldn't leave marks on him, or that he wouldn't like it. Simeon would find it rather delightful to see you expressing yourself in such a... primal manner.
If someone sees the scratches - by his hips, or his shoulders perhaps - he's much more likely to just smile and laugh it off. I don't see him getting embarrassed about it.
If he were going to be embarrassed about it, he would have made sure they wouldn't show.
For the most part he doesn't think about it twice, just smiles and teases you, asks you if this means you were enjoying yourself especially during the act~
He's even 100% willing to lead your hands to any place he'd prefer to see your scratches. Or...
Simeon doesn't play coy, not really. He doesn't wait for you to ask or catch the scratches or feel embarrassed. If he wants it, he'll put himself in the prime position to get it.
Meaning, depending on his mood, you'll walk in on poor, shirtless Simeon, trying to rub lotion on his poor reddened back.
Will look you directly in the eyes and ask you to help him with an innocent tilt of his head.
"Was it fun, scratching me up like this?" His tone will be soft and teasing, of course, and it'll be up to you to defuse or escalate, but Simeon won't be dissuaded either way -
"I must confess, it was quite nice being scratched up," He whispers to you, suddenly facing you, his chest to yours, his arms darting up from under your shirt.
"It would be such a shame to deny you a similar pleasure... wouldn't it?"
Simeon is a good sweet angel ofc, if you don't wanna get hurt he'll just pet you. Gently. Heavily. With his co-
ANYWAYS GREAT REQUEST LOVED FULFILLING IT sorry it took me a bit lmao I am very easily distracted <3
Could you do the other brothers with visible scratches, or just Satan? Thank you. <3
I have many a WiP to get to but I did like writing those, so just Satan for you~
Satan
Satan's pretty normal about it, actually. An interesting thing to note is that from the last request, most of the dudes - Diavolo, Mammon, Simeon - had dark skin.
While scratches on dark skin are still perfectly visible, depending on how hard you went on them, for Satan and his father brother their pale skin makes even little scratches stand out plainly.
Being relatively extroverted while still having tact and discretion, Satan isn't particularly interested in showing off.
He enjoys it plenty, of course. He'll even goad you on, or goad you into it, during the act; having you claw your delicious catharsis into his flesh is pure serotonin to his wrath-fueled brain.
Express yourself, let him feel exactly how intense your lovemaking is, scrape your fervor against him while he presses up against you.
And yes, he absolutely calls it lovemaking. Satan is a romantic and a sucker for anything romantic. Marks left on him in a fit of passion - your passion? Hnnnnnng,,,
It's enough to make a wrath demon weak in the knees. If you ever have angry sex with him he might just cum before you start.
But he considers this all an experience shared between you and him. The scratches are yours to see and his to bear, and there isn't really any reason for anyone else to be involved...
...until Lucifer walks in on him shirtless. Then Satan's discovered a high that quite quickly becomes addicting: the look of shock and realization in his father's brother's eyes.
Lucifer scolds him curtly for being underdressed - which has absolutely no effect on Satan, as if Lucifer's scolding ever did - and in fact invigorates him, because even Lucifer wasn't generally pissy enough to act like Satan should have his shirt on at all times in his own damn room.
No, oh, no, this couldn't be simple concern or discipline. The firstborn was angry. Upset. Jealous, even.
This is something Satan's always been pleased about, of course; the thought of you choosing him over Lucifer, of Lucifer not getting what he wanted, because you only want him.
You want him so much your touch sears it into him, drawing lines on his skin to proclaim your ownership; you alone are the master of the Avatar of Wrath, the human from whom he would accept any command.
It's a nice sort of burn, when he puts a soft sweater on over the cuts (shallow, of course, with your blunt human claws).
A sting he cherishes, carries with him, fuzzy heat lowering into a pleasant warmth throughout the day.
Satan knows better than most how good it can feel, the ache in one's hand after throwing a good punch, the bruise on a shoulder after shoving someone down.
The relieving pain of stretching a muscle, much like the rush that comes from speaking aloud thoughts held close to the chest, pouring out insults and threats to someone you loathed -
Oh, Satan knows it all too well. But now, with you? He finds something he wants to know, forever.
-
