Jun 12, 2025
THRONE 3 TITLE AND PRINCE HAS BEEN REVEALED!!!!! 🥵😍
seen from United States
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THRONE 3 TITLE AND PRINCE HAS BEEN REVEALED!!!!! 🥵😍
Day 4 is here! Just to be clear, If you’ve read the discussions I’ve had with @hrizantemy about religion on my other blog, you know I have a complicated views and relationship with religion that will likely come through here. To the point where I get somewhat existential over there. These are just my thoughts, and these headcannons don’t encompass my whole thoughts about religion, or even parts of them. They’re diluted to fit the layout of this fic, and won’t be addressed here. I’ve had people irl hea me ask these kinds of questions and take it as a sign to try and convert me, so please don’t do that. Otherwise, let’s agree to disagree, yeah? For now, I’m glad to be caught up. I have a poll on my page asking about how you wanna see fics posted in the future, so feel free to give your two cents. It should be right beneath this post. @princeofsinweek
Day 4: The Many Texts in my Collection
Yapping - Sloth x reader
TW: Um, I ask some questions about religion people may find uncomfortable. They’re based on my own thoughts or opinions, but diluted enough to fit the layout of this fic. I don’t plan to go in depth or try to address any of them here.
📖 Sloth wasn’t sure how he got here. One moment he was in his house of sin, the next, he was in a strangely decorated room.
The sight of book pages stuck to the wall, shaped like a heart in one area, and coating a mother corner seemingly at random, made his eye twitch. Amongst the remnants of desecrated literature stuck to the wall were colourful pictures. Some were obviously illustrations, but others seemed so realistic, he wasn’t sure what to make of them. More of those illustrations were taped to a bookshelf, right across from the bed, beside the window. There was also a desk pushed against the other wall, with multiple bottles, pots, boxes, stationary and books scattered all over it. Some, he recognised as stationary, while others were clearly cosmetics and perfumes. But the strange slab made of what felt like glass, and a bit of metal was entirely new to him.
No candles or chandeliers hang in the room, but strange contraptions in the ceiling emit a mix of soft orange and harsh white light-
“AGHHHHHHHHHH!”
📖 He was so caught up in exploring his new surroundings, that he didn’t realise someone entered 7til he heard the scream, followed by glass shattering.
He watched you stumble back out the door, scrambling away before your back hit another door across from your own, separated by a very, very small hallway. Your legs were bare, but you wore what seemed like a sleep dress? It was a pale yellow, with a blue cat and brown mouse on it, along with the names ‘Tom & Jerry’. It was clearly old, somewhat tattered in places, but seemed comfortable enough.
Your hair fell down your back in waves, and bright eyes stared up at him in horror. He walked carelessly across the shattered glass to kneel beside you. Before you could scream again, he placed a hand over your mouth, and brought a free one to his lips. You took several breaths through your nose before nodding at his demand.
📖 After that, Sloth and his new friend are able to talk, though I doubt you believe he’s a demon. Not until he pulls out the wings, maybe even take her for a flight. But you’re deathly terrified of heights, and hates rollercoasters, so you don’t have a good time. But, once they’ve established who he is and why he’s in her room, I’d say he might ask for information about things he didn’t understand.
“So this is an… I-pad?”
“Yeah. There are a bunch of tablets that function pretty similarly, but these are the most popular.”
“And you do… what exactly?”
“Pretty much everything. I watch shows, like plays but recorded as did with special effects to make them look realistic, but some of them are animated too, so basically a bunch of pictures played in rapid succession to give the illusion of movement. Um, I also write essays for school on here, do other projects, research, read books, text-“
“Read?”
📖 God help you when he learns about e-readers and apps like Apple Books or the kindle app.
📖 Soon enough, you’re lounging on your bed, reading on your kindle, while he’s made himself comfortable at your desk, reading on your iPad, occasionally using your browser to research something.
📖 One thing he didn’t account for, however, is how much you yap.
“So, if you’re a demon, does that mean He’ll is real?”
“Is heaven real too?”
“What’s it like?”
“Why did you leave?”
“Why did your brothers leave?”
“Is God real?”
“Why doesn’t he do something to make this world better?”
“Can he even interfere? If not, then wouldn’t that mean he’s not a god?”
📖 He found it bothersome at first, but some of these questions surprised him.
“If God is real, and can interact with our world, why won’t he stop the bad things?”
“If your brother is the one who tempted eve, why are we the ones punished for his crime?”
“If he lets us suffer, giving us no reason to believe in him other than corrupt institutions that push the burden of that belief onto those who suffer, why should we?”
“What kind of ‘all loving deity’ lets people burn forever because they stopped believing, when he was the one that let them suffer for no reason?”
“If we’re going to burn forever for not believing, why give us free will, thus the option to not believe?”
“Also, isn’t the reason we have knowledge of good and evil because Eve ate the fruit? Why not undo it if he’s so powerful?”
“Why should we be punished for exercising the free will he gave us?”
📖 Not all of your questions are region based though. Sometimes he enjoys listening to you mindlessly bitch about a trope, author or series that bugs you. These were ones he’d be more likely to answer, in some capacity.
“Can you believe the author had the audacity to respond to those comments like- like that?!”
“Her manipulation tactics could use some work.”
“What did she think was going to happen when she decided approach the guy people called ‘the mad king’ huh?! What made her think any of what he said would make sense?!”
“What would you have done in her shoes?”
“Uhhh….”
“Thought so.”
“What would you do if..”
📖 Sloth had plenty of questions of his own though. Mostly about mundane stuff. But in cases where you didn’t know, you’d research it together.
“So that’s how fuel powers a car. I never would’ve searched that without you!L
“You’d take a mode of transportation without knowing fully how it works? What if it broke down, or you needed to procure a new one?”
“I don’t think that’s what toasters are made fo- WAIT! YOU’LL GET ELECTROCUTED!”
“No! Don’t break it! It wasn’t trying to kill you, I swear!”
“Yeah, so audiobooks are for people who may be neurodivergent, and struggle to stay focused on a book, or maybe people who poor eyesight, for any number of reasons, and can’t see. Oh, or even people who want to read but are constantly on the move, so they can just listen while doing their thing!”
“Neurodivergent?”
“Well, yeah. Knowledge should be accessible to everyone, but so should rest, and the librarian can’t get that unless we go home.”
“In my library, I never had to leave.”
“ That’s because it encompasses your whole house,”
📖 He shows her magic.
“Oh my god, it’s really floating!”
“It’s not that impressive. This kind of magic is basic.”
“I wish I could light fires like that.”
“Oh, that must be so useful in a fight!”
📖 Despite being a bit of a yapper, Sloth finds that you like demanding to hear stories from him too.
“Wait, so the were you like pow! Bam! Haya! Take that! And the-“
“No one makes those sounds while fighting.”
“Well, you should.”
“Wait, tell me about that! I wanna hear about the dragons!”
“They sound scary!”
“They’re ice dragons…”
“They sound amazing!”
“Werewolf blood can do that? Sounds like it can make a sticky situation worse then.”
“How many gods are there in the Underworld?”
“Awww, they sound like such a sweet couple!”
“Honestly, if any of your brothers’ lives were romance books, I’d read them all. They sound so cute!”
“Don’t ever tell them that. For your sake, and mine.”
“Come on! Tell it again, please.”
“Owieeee! Alright, alright! I’ll go to bed! Just don’t pinch my cheeks like that!”
📖 By the time he’s found a way home, he’s reluctant to leave and your ever present questions, that he’d come to adore, only made it harder.
“Do you have to go?”
“I have so many more questions.”
“Will you come visit?”
“Stay just one more night?”
“Send me a postcard. I’ll frame it on my wall like a trophy!”
📖 So he decides to ask one final question of his own.
“Would you like to sell your soul?”
Brace Yourself Pet 😈
Bonfire:
For @princeofsinweek, day one 👀
Also, it doubles as whumpsgiving day one!
⚠️ Canon typical scenario (prompt) & Demonic (magical) influence 🔞
I was out all day yesterday, so I couldn't upload it then, so here it is now. Day seven, extended version. I do have plans to make this a series, and once I have all three series planned out, I'll be sure to ask who's you want to see first. Be sure to look out for more Euphemia content until then too. On a side note, did anyone see Kerri's stories, where she was scrolling through the first few pages of Throne of Secrets. We got a glimpse at the first couple of pages and honestly, ever teaser just makes me more impatient to read it.
This is probably my favourite piece, and the longest that I've written. Even though it's extended, there's so much more that I wanted to add, that I'll probably put into the series. I really loved writing Lust, and trying to balance gentle, romantic side with his lustful, jovial one. Although, I don't think there was much room for the latter here but I'll be sure to give it ago in the series. What are some of your favourite Lust moments from the trilogy? Let me know! @princeofsinweek
Day 7: Lust/Lover
Speak Now - Lust x OC
WC:4,077
TW: Almost forced marriage, abuse (father striking his daughter, plus forced fiancé hurting bride), mentioned death of a parent, mentioned canon typical violence.
Amara was stone faced as her ladies maids tittered around her, tugging, tucking and tidying up her hair in preparation. They had tried to make smalltalk at first, but when she didn’t respond, they quickly gave up.
She wanted to grimace at her reflection. She wanted to tear the pins and veil from her hair. She wanted to smear the makeup from her face, even if she had to break a few nails and tear her skin to do it. She wanted to rip the silk and lace from her body, and throw it to the pigs.
She wanted to run.
But she couldn’t.
All because she had nowhere to go. Noone to turn to.
The gown itself was classic. An a-line gown made of silk, with a sweetheart neckline, and thick lace sleeves. The ivy patterned lace reached right to where her neck met her head, and somehow managed to irritate her skin. Yet, despite her growing discomfort, she remained like a statue, even as the maids began wondering if she even lived or not.
“You will wed the Prince, and you will finally make yourself useful to me,”
Even as it echoed in her own mind, her father’s voice remained harsh, arguably colder than even the northernmost flaming tombs. It became his usual attitude after her mother had been killed by who Amara now knew was the Goddess of Death in an act of vengeance. The father she knew and loved lasted until the funeral, but once people began moving on with their lives, things began to change. Gone was the gentle, doting father she knew, and in his place was a shell of a man who only sought power and fame.
Even at the expense of his own daughter.
Part of her, thinking back to that night, when she felt as though things had turned around for her.
Growing sick of the scent of alcohol and sex in her home, she’d wandered to one of the many cliff sides in Palermo.
She wasn’t sure how long she’d sat there, eyes locked on the crashing waves below, but not really looking at them.
It would be so easy to just… Push herself forward, and let herself fall. So, so easy.
But, before she could properly contemplate the idea, he was pulled from her thoughts by the distant sound of music. As if in a trance, she made her way down the side of the cliff wondering if it was the cold, or anticipation that had her limbs trembling. What she hadn’t expected was to find a bonfire, and a single male dancing on the beach.
The sculptures that nobles commissioned from renowned artisans to line their overly elaborate halls must’ve been inspired by the man. His skin was gold, and hair dark. His charcoal eyes seemed to glow under the light of a flaming circlet that wrapped around his head. Yet, somehow, she got the impression that if she met his gaze, she’d feel like she was trapped in a darkened abys
se of desire.
“If you like what you see, then why not join?” The male’s voice jolted her from her thoughts.
He had been across the beach a moment ago, but now he stood right in front of her. Too close. His face was too close, as he bent at the waist to examine her. It was only then, when she felt that flaming circlet flicker against her forehead that she realized how… Wrong- no. Not wrong. How… Strange it was.
“Doesn’t your head get hot during the summer?” she had blurted out, before slapping a hand over her mouth.
The man’s eyes widened, and he had jerked back, clearly surprised by the question. He observed her, eyes narrowing somewhat, before leaning back, letting his lips spread into a grin.
“There are no summers where I’m from,” he shrugged. She blinked up at him, hands still pressed to her mouth, but eyes wide and curious. He seemed so jovial when she first saw him, then he looked like he could see all of her secrets laid bare, before going back to seeming like he was having fun. “Should you not be more concerned by this?” he cocked his head to the side.
Amara dropped her hands from her mouth, and blinked up at him again. After a few moments under his expectant gaze, she raised a brow, and rocked on the soles of her feet, answering with a shrug. “No. My mother was a witch,”
Lust’s brows shot up.
“You seem remarkably comfortable sharing that, when all it would take is the wrong person overhearing for you to be condemned,”
“You aren’t exactly human either, in case you hadn’t noticed,” she pointed out, “I know enough about malvagi to know that if you wanted me dead, I’d be dead. Clearly, you don’t. Not as of yet, anyway,”
Lust’s brows shot up again, as he circled her.
Amara held her chin high, eyes tracking the male.
Silence stretched on for what felt like hours, though was likely only minutes.
“Do you know who I am, Stella Stregah?” he finally asked.
“A Malvagi,” she stated, matter of factly, before looking behind him, “Why are you having a bonfire all alone?”
“Would you care to join me?” was the only response he gave.
“Will you attempt to use your powers on me?” she asked.
“Dance with me, and perhaps you’ll find out,” the demon bowed at the waist, offering his hand to her.
Amara eyed him skeptically, but shrugged and accepted.
Music filled her ear again, though there was no discernible source, as the demon guided her through the steps. Amara let him. She followed his lead, though never once made eye contact with the demon.
“Which one are you?”
“I am the Prince of Lust,”
She narrowed her eyes on him. Taking a moment to examine herself, and thinking over their interactions thus far. It didn’t seem like he used his powers on her.
“Why haven’t you tried to influence me with your sin, yet?”
“Believe me, I’ve been trying,” Lust huffs.
“What?”
“Our powers can only inflate emotions that are already present. When I reached out to inflate yours, I sensed no emotion to inflate. Either you truly feel nothing, or they’re so deeply buried that even I can’t find them,”
“I…See,”
“Is that why you considered jumping from the cliff, Stella Stregah?”
Lust raised a brow, examining the way her face scrunched.
“That’s not your concern, Malvagi.” Amara snapped, moving to pull away.
He chuckled, yanking her into a spin, before she could, then caught her, and pushed her into a dip, hand cupping the thigh of her raised leg. His face was mear inches from hers.
“No need to be so wrathful, little witch. Let go of your troubles for a night. Release those pent up feelings and give in to your desires,”
“I’m not sleeping with you,” she told him, point blank.
“I never said you should. Not unless those are your desires,” Lust shrugged, not rising from the dip, letting his hand trail down her leg, “Dance. Drink,” she glanced behind him to see a table of drinks and food she hadn’t noticed before, and on the other side, comfortable looking chairs were laid out around the bonfire, “Rest. Talk. Sing. Give into whatever brings your pleasure,”
“You mean to feed your sin,”
“Perhaps. But can you deny that giving in to pleasure, forgetting what ails you, even for a single night, would be bad?”
It wouldn’t. She knew it wouldn’t.
“Surely you have plenty of people available to feed your sin,”
“Yet I crave you,”
Amara’s eyes narrowed.
“If I give into pleasure, you won’t use your sin on me?”
“Not unless you ask, little witch,”
“Then it’s a deal. Just for tonight.”
“Just for tonight.”
It hadn’t been just for a night.
She had returned two nights later, and made the same deal again, swearing it was the last time. Then again. And again. And again. And again.
Eventually, she gave into more and more of her desires, spending more than a couple of those nights with him making love on the beach, or in a cave. One time, he’d even appeared in her bedroom while her father was out drinking. Lust had wrinkled his nose when he appeared, be it at the sorry state of the place she lived in, or the clear evidence of her father’s vices, despite his own position, she couldn’t tell.
Eventually, she’d found herself coming to enjoy the jovial prince’s company. Perhaps it was unwise to do so, given what she knew of the malvagi, yet, she couldn’t bring herself to regret it. Even as she began to desire more than just his body. Instead, she longed for tender nights where he held her by the fire after a particularly vigorous session of love making in a cave.
Foolishly, she longed for the scowl he gave at her proposal to roast marshmallows over his flaming crown, before reluctantly agreeing if only she never shared it with her brothers, only to watch her oh, so tenderly as she made s’mores for them. Above all, she longed for the high she felt in his presence, which she recently learned wasn’t due to his sin, but rather her own feelings, and delusions.
That was all it was. Delusions.
Princes of Hell are content to rule alone, with no desire to share their power with anyone.
Now, at least she had her memories to hold onto as she got married. Then, when Prince Zarus would transform her into one of his own at the reception, right before injecting her with his venom, she’d likely lose all senses, or memories of her Prince. Perhaps that would be the mercy. To forget all of it, and be lost in the oblivion for the rest of eternity.
A sharp knock snaps her from her thoughts. In the mirror, she watched the lady’s maids quickly shuffle out, but glanced away at her father’s entry. She refused to even look at him.
He, obviously, noticed this too, but for once, did not strike her. Instead, he examined her.
“You don’t look like a whore, for once,” he comments. Amara said nothing. “Don’t look so sullen when you walk down the aisle. You are to wed royalty, and if you wish for comfort in your new life, do not let the prince tire of you.”
“Don’t pretend this is for me,” she whispers, “All this is so you can gain wealth, power and immortality. You care nothing for how I feel about the matter.” Tears well in her eyes as she gazes at her reflection, feeling like an imposter.
Her father approached, ignoring her flinch as he placed his hands on her shoulders, leaning beside her head to watch her in the mirror.
She refused to meet his gaze.
“Nonsense. You’re the precious,” his hands squeezed uncomfortably tight, voice strained, “daughter that my wife left behind before she died. I am merely doing what is best, so that you might live a life of comfort,”
Amara wanted to retort. To hurl insults and decor at him, but knew the guards would happily inject her before the wedding started, upon their Prince’s orders, and drag her down the aisle in that state of euphoria if that’s what it took. She didn’t want that. She wanted to put it off as long as she could. Yet, she also wanted to be rid of her father.
Mercifully, another knock at the door dragged her father away with one, final, painful squeeze of her shoulders.
She barely noticed the newcomer enter after her father, the woman draped in silver, emanating a familiar sensuality. Amara’s eyes snapped to hers as she pressed a finger to her lips. A slip of paper drops in front of her, before she uses transvenio to make her escape.
Eyes wide, Amara reaches for the paper, slowly unfolding it.
My dearest Amara, You don’t have to say yes. Meet at the back door and I can take you away from here, somewhere you’d be happy. I’d give absolutely anything for that, so I ask that if you wish to escape this, then come find me. I’ll be there until the reception ends. Forever yours, Prince Lust.
The message burst into flames, leaving behind a slip of paper with a map drawn on it. It appeared to lead from her room to the place he was waiting. The only issue were the guards outside her room. With furrowed brows, she shoved the paper into her pocket, hoping she’d have a chance on the way to the altar.
Finally, when her father came to collect her, she walked to the end of the hall.
“Father. I- I forgot my necklace! Could you go back and get it?”
“Just leave it, before we’re late,” he assures, with thinly veiled irritation and faux kindness.
“But it was a gift from the Prince. He’d be terribly angry if I don’t,” she tried.
Her father raised a brow, but nodded to the guards, who turned back. She and her father had watched them head back up the hall, to her room, before she turned on her heel, reaching for the paper. She’d made it halfway up the hall before a firm grip pulled her back.
“Where do you think you’re-” he noticed the paper. His eyes slid over the map, narrowing on it. Before she knew what was happening, a sharp sting was felt across her face, strong enough to send her to the ground, “You whore! You think you can escape this? You think you can embarrass me?!”
She shrank under his ire, more tears welling in his eyes.
“I- I’m sorry-”
He yanked her up by the arm.
“No. But you will be. Just you wait until the reception is over,” he hissed, “Now compose yourself,”
She did her best as they stood in the hallway, certain that the guards heard everything. A put of dread opened up in her stomach and minutes ticked by far too slowly, yet far too quickly at the same time. Each second was like a step towards the gallows.
She barely processed the guard’s return or her father clasping the necklace around her. She didn’t bother to hide her stiffness, or heartbreak, even as her father snapped at her to smile. As far as she was concerned, this was as good as walking to the executioner’s block.
The doors to the throne room opened, revealing the altar, where the immortal throne, where Zarus, sat at the end of an aisle laid with red and black petals.
Amara didn’t care much what plant they were from, only that it felt like a mocking reminder that the path to her future was scattered with more and more burdens to laden her shoulders.
She didn’t notice when she got to the altar.
She didn’t acknowledge the priest, or her fiance.
She stood in stony silence, with the eyes of bloodsucking monsters pinned to her.
The lines she dreaded most were coming.
She hardly felt like she could breath, much less speak.
She wanted to run.
She had to run.
She needed to run.
Run.
Run.
Ru-
“Do you, Amara Willows, take Prince Zarus to be your Prince and your husband, and to serve him and his court, for the rest of eternity?”
Her throat dried up.
She couldn’t speak.
“Amara?” a distant voice called.
She couldn't discern who.
She could feel her father’s harsh glare on her, and the Prince’s hand tightening on hers.
“Amare Willows, do you take-”
She couldn’t take it. She ran. Amara practically jumped off the altar, gown bunched in her hands, as she raced for the doors. There was yelling, and she felt pain in her foot as she stumbled, shoe falling off in the process, but she refused to acknowledge the pain as she made for the doors. It only really sunk in as two guards caught her arms in a bruising grip.
“Let me-”
“Aren’t you supposed to ask those with objections to ‘speak now’ or some bullshit?”
Amara’s head snapped towards the door at the familiar voice. Charcoal eyes met her own, and the flames that circled his head flickered somewhat brighter. As per usual, he wore an embroidered suit jacket and pants, foregoing the shirt.
It was him.
He was here.
Her prince was here.
“There is none in this court who would dare object to their Prince’s union,” scowled Zarus.
“Luckily I’m not part of this court then,” Lust grins, ever the jovial one, “So allow me to say with all sincerity in my non-existent heart,” he mocked, only, there was something different. His eyes had an intensity about them that she’d never seen before, “that I object,”
“Lu-” she tried to reach out, only for Zarus to appear in front of her.
The guards back off when Zarus grabs her wrist.
“On what grounds? You have no right to interfere in our affairs,”
“I do when you take a member of my court,”
“My daughter has never been a member of your vile court!” Her father interrupted, his face going red, from embarrassment or rage, she couldn’t tell.
“You see, that’s where you're wrong,” Lust starts, as he begins his way up the aisle, “She and I had made a deal, that involved her allowing me to fuel my sin through her several times a week. Marrying you would prevent her from holding up her end of the bargain,”
Her eyes widened as she recalled the deal she made, time and time again.
“Each corner of The Underworld has its own set of laws. Human law, the law of the Shifting Isles, dictates that a woman may not enter such agreements without her father or husband’s consent, deferring only to their female line in the absence of a male relative,” her father snapped.
“Yes, however, each law can be overturned by The King,”
“Not without valid reason to-”
“And there is,” a new voice called.
The man who just entered is burly, with dark hair, tied back with leather, and upswept, dark eyes. A scar is carved through his right cheek, a silver gleam against his darker features, and fine black suite. Despite how bored the man seems, the way his hand remains in reach of what appears to be a dagger’s sheath makes it clear that he’s been assessing everything with a warrior’s eye. He came prepared for violence.
Lust told her about him before. Anir. The King’s second.
“Consent is the most important aspect of courtship and marriage. Yet your bride doesn’t appear to want to be here at all,” Lust muses.
“What nonsense-” her father snapped, but was cut off by a withering glare from Anir.
“The King has asked me to confirm this. If it is true, then he’s willing to recognise House Lust’s claim of the woman, and has ordered me to leave behind a declaration of war as a result,” Anir holds an envelope between two fingers.
“This is ridiculous-” her father attempted again, only to be cut off again.
“Of course my bride wishes to be here,” Zarus turns from Anir to Amara, grip tightening painfully on her wrist, “don’t you?”
Amara winces, unable to speak from the strength with which he was holding her. Anir examined her, waiting, but the pain in her wrist became too much. She was sure he was crushing the bone, even before she heard a snapping sound coming from there. She wanted to cry out, only for the pressure on her wrist to vanish in a moment.
That was the moment the petals scattered on the aisle started coming closer. It was as if she was falling.
It wasn’t until warm arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her to a warm chest, that she saw Lust kneeling beside her. Through her gaze, though blurred with unshed tears, she noticed a female demon, the one from before, gripping the Prince’s hand almost as tightly as he did her’s. Tighter perhaps.
A warm hand gently guided her face away from the sight, so that she might meet the gaze of her prince instead.
“I’m sorry. I couldn’t make it,” she whispered, thinking to her failed attempt at escape,”
“It’s okay, little witch. I’m here now,” Lust whispers, cradling your body.
You turn to see the man, Anir, approaching too. His gaze is calculating as he observes you, likely trying to figure out what to report to his prince.
“What’s important now is that you’re honest,” he tells you sternly, though not unkindly, “If you don’t wish to marry Zarus, speak now, Miss Willows,”
Her heart races at his words, at the opportunity to escape. She wants to reach for it, to grasp it but-
“But where will I go?” she asks weakly.
Lust, who was cradling her wounded wrist in his hand, smiled gently at her. Like he had many times before.
“You’ll come with me,” he whispered.
“But why? You have so many demons to feed your sin, so why-”
“Because I want you,” he reminds her, “I’ll tell you as many times as you need. I want you. Not anybody else,” he leans down to your ear, “Come back with me, to House Lust. Join my court officially. Be mine. Let me make you my princess, and then be mine. Mine for eternity,”
“Lust-”
“Hush. Let me finish,” he waits for you to nod before speaking, “In return, I’ll give you all the comfort and pleasure you want. I won’t have dalliances with anyone else. I won’t look at anyone else. Nobody but you. I’ll give you whatever your heart desires, if you just say ‘yes’”
He’s practically begging, in front of the entire vampire court, and his brother’s second, no less.
You don’t bother to contain your tears as you lean up, wrapping your good arm around him.
“Miss Willows-” Anir begins.
“Amara, I forbid-”
“Yes,” she manages to get out through her sobs, not breaking your gaze from Lust’s, “I want to go to House Lust. I want to leave this place,”
Anir nods, beginning to address the room again, but you pay it no mind. Instead, she wrapped her arms around Lust’s shoulders, mindful of the injured wrist, and buried your face there. The demon from earlier tried to console her, only for Lust to wave her away. He could feel her emotions. The fear, and heartache for her situation, all overshadowed by relife, joy, and desire for her freedom, for Lust. He felt no need to inflate it, instead, he gently encouraged her to let it out however she needed.
It was only when Lust deposited her on a bed covered in deep plum silks, and overly stuffed pillows.
“Care for a bath?” he asked.
“As long as it stays one. I’m far too tired to do anything right now,” she murmured to him.
Lust chuckled, but agreed, as he helped her from, what he called, an inordinate amount of fabric, as she giggled and reminded him that it was only two layers.
“Two layers too many,” he huffed, before tearing the dress from her body and depositing her in the bat.
While she soaked, Lust gently wiped the makeup from her face, before pressing a kiss to her temple. He brought some ointment and bandages for her wrist, silently wrapping it, before carrying her back to bed.
“If you don’t wish to sleep bare, I could have some night clothes brought,” he gently offered, as he helped her dry off.
Amara shook her head.
“I’ve slept beside you, naked, in caves, and on sand. I think I’ll be fine to do so while wrapped in the most comfortable silks I’ve ever seen,” she assured.
Lust smiled, nodding, before reaching for something from the bedside.
“I only wish for your comfort, little witch, before I make good on one of my promises,”
Amara blushed at the reminder.
“You don’t-”
He ignored her as he took a ring in one hand, hew good wrist in the other.
“I want to. Let me make you my princess. My fiance. My only lover,”
She stared at him, noting sincerity in his dark eyes. Amara nodded.
“Then, from now until eternity, be mine, Lust,”
Lust slid the ring to her finger, then pressed a kiss to her lips.
“Mine,” he nipped at her.
She giggled, and nipped back.
“Mine,”
Theory about House Sloth! Also light analysis of the animals of each House of Sin
Very excited to put my wildlife biology info to use
I love Lo, and I'm completely and utterly fascinated at his lack of ego and the fact he's the only one so far to openly/readily admit his sin is a burden and that he's not a fan of it.
But that's for perhaps another post. This is about his house sigil/animal!
Gluttony is dragons, Envy is wolves, Wrath is a snake, Pride is a lion, Greed is a frog
First thought is obviously "wouldn't his animal be a... yk, sloth?"
Right, but humanity didn't discover sloths until 1788, and while they can mess you up, I doubt he'd choose an animal just bc "slow"
The other animals make sense. Dragons are massive, beautiful creatures, allowing you to indulge in their beauty before they gorge themselves possibly on your corpse. Greed says himself that Frogs are greedy little things. (More support for my Greed is different theory, so far the only house animal that isn't at the tertiary level of the food chain in a lot of circumstances.) Wolves aren't as intuitive for Envy, but perhaps it's their territorial nature combined with their need to be in a pack, since Envy and his court value their bond so strongly. Similar thing with snakes for Wrath, but it does make sense when you think about it. They can be sneaky but also make big gestures to ward off predators, showing mercy that Wrath apparently tends to show, before taking down their targets with brutal efficiency whether it be venom or suffocation. Once the venom is in your body (unless you're a honey badger bc they're built different) you can't do much, and the more venomous snakes can take you out in minutes. There's one snake dubbed "the ten pacer" because it's said after a bite, you'll be dead in ten paces. And as for constrictors? If you're their prey, bite and scratch all you want but once they've got you in their hold you're not getting out alive. (Yes some snakes aren't tertiary levels at the food chain but a good amount of them are, like black mambas off the top of my head) Lions, along with some other animals but the vibes just stand out with them, rely on physical features not only to attract mates but also assert dominance. Lion prides are also kinda like harems? For the laymen, one man at the top and all his bitches. From what we've heard about Pride, checks out. They roar, letting all hear their power, and preen like cats. That's Luc for ya
So what do I think is Lo's house animal? Owls!
His motto is books before men, and he seeks knowledge above all else, and owls represent wisdom. Owls are also birds of prey, therefore skilled and dangerous hunters, which would represent the sentiment that House Sloth will fight as fiercely as any other House Of Sin and he still takes pleasure in laying his enemies low. Also, owls spit up owl pellets, the unnecessary parts of their prey they can't digest. While Lo does make a comment about getting the work he wants to do slowly, he also seems like the type to be smart enough to only exert as much energy as needed for a given task. Unlike his more theatrical brothers. And owls don't waste energy digesting parts of prey that won't be that nutritionally beneficial. So that's my theory!
My Guardian - Wrath x F!Y/N
Background: Y/N is Wrath’s lover and just recently was brought into his circle. She really wants to explore his circle but he doesn’t want her to get into danger.
A/N: It’s been a minute! I really wanted to do a Wrath imagine so here it is! I have a few more WIPs to finish up but no timeline for when because I have been busy busy busy! Requests are still closed until I can make a commitment to get them done!
Warnings: KOTW themes, mentions of stalking and potential assault, mentions of violence