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What are your thoughts on how much time Sam’s soul spent in The Cage? If we go by established time lines in the show, 18 months = approx 180 years. But Lucifer is an arch angel and we know angels can manipulate time so I think it could have been longer, or least made to feel longer. I also believe that Sam would have been fluent in Enochian after spending that much time with Lucifer and Micheal. Thank you for answering if you have time! And I hope you enjoy and holiday time you have :)
welp - you did it.
you asked a question i’ve been thinking about for over a decade and unleashed the full fury of my brainworms in action. this is the type of meta i expect like 4 people total to be interested in, but i’m going to spend days working on because I Have Thoughts.
the short answer: somewhere between 180 - 5000 years, with my personal headcanon landing just over 700 years, or 1400 for maximum whump.
The behemoth long answer is under a cut because long and math and meta. Skip to the end if you just want the math. The tl;dr is that SPN canon implies that hell has layers and that time distorts more the deeper that you go, and we can build an equation for that distortion and get to basically whatever number suits our purposes depending on what assumptions we make going in.
Time Distortion in Hell
The length of time Sam’s soul felt/experienced the cage is a function of two factors: how long he spent there in earth terms, and the degree of temporal distortion hell creates.
The first piece is easy if we assume Sam’s soul spent 18 months in the cage* (footnotes at the end).
The second piece... Dean spent 4 months dead (time in earth terms) which was 40 years on the rack in terms of his experience/perception. If we take this assumption that 1 month = 1 decade, we get to use some very simple math to say that Sam spent 180 years in the cage.
But.
I’ve always personally interpreted Hell’s time distortion to run a bit different than a static 1 month = 1 decade. This headcanon derives from some hints in canon (or at least, this headcanon is not actively contradicted by moments in canon) and from other pieces of media.
I believe that the deeper you go into hell, the greater the temporal distortion is.
This is basically like the move Inception, I’m not even gonna try to pretend otherwise. There, the deeper you go into the dream within a dream, the more time dilation there is. It makes sense to me that SPN’s Hell canon works the same for several reasons.
For starters, when Sam's wall is breaking in s6, he has flashbacks where 2-3 minutes is equated with what feels like a week in the cage (episode 6x14). We can take this at perfect face value (meaning that Sam’s soul experienced about 5000 years in the Cage). Or we can interpret this to be a function of the episode he is experiencing, where temporal dilation is exaggerated because of the nature of his flashback, or we can say he is speaking in hyperbole.
I think it makes sense for the truth to be somewhere in the middle - Sam is speaking off the cuff, not entirely literal or exact about how long those 2-3 minutes felt like, but nonetheless honestly that they felt like days, felt much longer than our formula of 1 month = 1 decade allows. And I take that as a realistic reflection of his time spent in the pit.
Another, and far more overt piece of evidence comes in Season 11 when Sam visits ‘the Cage’. In 11x09 (O Brother Where Art Thou), we see Rowena, Crowley and Sam in Hell whereas Dean is on Earth, and there appears to be little to no temporal distortion occurring between the events below and the events above. This remains true in the following episode (11x10, the Devil in the Details) when Crowley phones Dean and when Dean comes down to join them in Hell (and Cas as well shortly after).
So - what gives? Is there temporal distortion occurring in Hell or not? Did they retcon that, forget about it, what?
Well, Crowley explicitly refers to this area of Hell as ‘Limbo’, which brings us to an understanding of Hell’s temporal distortion through the lens of the circles presented in Dante’s Inferno.
Circles of Hell
It’s fair and frustrating to say that canon doesn’t give us much in the way of understanding the structure and hierarchies of Hell. That gives us a lot of leeway, but I like to anchor my headcanons to canon if and when I can.
Thankfully, there is at least some reason to believe that Hell in this universe is structured at least somewhat similarly to Hell in other popular works of fiction that derive their conceptions of it from Dante’s Inferno (which itself is the popular mainstream view of hell that even a lot of Christian/Catholics have adopted, often without realizing at this point).
Dante’s Inferno provides a view of hell that has 9 circles, or layers, each one deeper into Hell than the last. SPN implies the same.
We get this from the use of Limbo, as stated above, since this is the term in the Inferno for the first circle. Crowley refers to Limbo as the “furthest reaches” of Hell, whereas in Dante’s Inferno, it’s the top layer. SPN plays fast and loose with what it takes vs. leaves from real-world mythos, but I take this to mean that “far” or “furthest” not in the sense of depth, but as a place which may be vast and largely empty, and which few demons can enter (since, as per the Inferno, it’s not a place where guilty souls actually end up, so possibly has quite restricted access to demons).
We also get evidence of these circles from Word of God through Sera Gamble, who has apparently said that the Cage is “At the bottom of the lowest depths of the ninth circle of the worst bit of Hell.” That’s pure Dante’s Inferno, ba-bey. (/mcelroy voice)
More evidence comes from Season 8 when Sam rescues Bobby’s soul from Hell, since he goes through Purgatory as a sort of back door to Hell, being told that Purgatory is “Hell adjacent”, which is true as well in the Inferno.
Another within-canon indirect hint of this is the association between Lucifer and ice. Dante’s Inferno keeps that the ninth circle of Hell, reserved for treachery, is a large frozen lake. And in the Inferno and in SPN canon, this is where the Devil is kept, in the Center of Hell, in the deepest frozen depths of the pit, the frozen lake in the ninth circle.
Also remembering that in early seasons, Lucifer and his Cage were buried so deep in Hell that most demons weren’t sure if he even existed. His existence was a matter of faith, no different than humans believing in God, according to 3x04 (Sin City).
Based on all this, I think it’s perfectly reasonable to surmise that Hell is vast, but potentially its vastness manifesting in the way in which it is layered, and that there are regions, planes, or depths that most demons do not or cannot tread to.
But okay, even if you’re on board so far, why do I believe that time works differently at different layers? And what circles have we seen in canon?
Situating Each Circle
My fundamental argument here is that temporal distortion in Hell is more extreme at the deeper depths, in a mathematically determinable way.
If we accept that Hell has nine circles (or planes or layers), then we can assume that we’ve seen three - probably five - of them. There is Limbo, as per season 11 and stated above, in which there seems to be little to no time dilation. This makes some sense if we accept that it’s the surface-most plane*, the first circle.
We have also established what’s in the ninth circle, titled Treachery, which is the Center of Hell and The Cage. Given its depth and the lines from season 3 Sin City, we can assume that, much like Limbo, this is an off-limits zone for most demons. If we accept my argument that times moves differently at the different layers, this is where time distortion - really, time dilation - should be the most extreme. It is the furthest removed from the material plane and the deepest well (do not call it a gravity well do not call it a gravity well do not call it a - )*, dilating time and everything around it at its depths.
In between, we have seen The Rack (where Dean was tortured), we have the Throne (where Rowena sat and kept court, since many of Crowley’s ruling scenes are implied to be on the surface rather than in Hell proper, although any of Crowley’s ruling scenes would be on this same level, I imagine), we have The Dungeon (from which Sam rescued Bobby’s soul as part of the Trials), and we have the glimpse we caught of how Crowley restructured the place into endless lines as a method of torment. There’s also the space where Lilith’s horn is kept, as per the Belphegor and Cas scenes in the early episodes of Season 15. I take that to be the same level as the Throne level, since it seems to be where ruling demons would both preside and reside.
Based on the seeming lack of time distortion we tend to see (in late seasons...) when we get scenes relating the Throne level, my headcanon is that this is the second circle of Hell (Lust). In the Inferno, incoming souls are judged here and then sent to which circle their sins have them belong, so I think it’s at least somewhat fitting for this to be where the Throne is. Keeping it closer to the surface world / material plane also has some advantages if doing so minimizes time distortion, since keeping closer time with Earth allows easier monitoring of Earth and tracking of things like deals etc. It also means that higher ranking aka more powerful demons who preside here are closer to Gates of Hell and therefore have less far to travel when slipping out and onto Earth.
In contrast, I think that The Rack is pretty damn deep. There is a lot of time distortion going on to get to 1 month = 1 decade (especially if we allow that a very small amount of dilation is happening at the topmost circles, even including Limbo). This makes sense to me in that The Rack is a place of exceeding misery and horror, literally the center of Hell’s most violent and excruciating tortures.
For that reason, I place The Rack as circle seven, aptly titled Violence. This is not to be confused with the sin of Wrath, which is actually the fifth circle. Rather, the seventh circle (to quote wikipedia at least), “houses the violent”. What better way to re-interpret that in the world of SPN than that circle hosting the torturers and their tortured? Within the seventh circle are those who committed violence against neighbors, against self, and against God. What better place for someone who sold his own soul (violence against self and against God), who killed?
Of course I don’t think it’s so straightforward that violent souls get sent to The Rack. I think any damned soul can be called there for a torture session. But Dean spent his entire time in Hell on The Rack, and that can’t be standard. Bobby spent plenty of his time in hell in a cell, as per 8x19 (Taxi Driver), and demons come here to torture him.
I don’t think it’s a huge leap for me to infer that Dean was special and spent his entire time on The Rack because they were so determined to use him to break the First Seal, and that most damned souls only do short stints on there, either due to limited real estate or so that souls don’t become numb to the violence (since let’s face it, most demonic torturers probably can’t keep them in anticipation of further horror as well as Alistair can, after a few days or months being cut into.) They’re probably returned to their cells to marinate in the memory and anticipation with only minor tortures until they’re brought down again. This is what we see with Bobby and probably with the endless lineups in Crowley’s redesigned Hell.
So - without too much to go on, I’m going to tentatively place the Dungeon with Bobby and other damned souls as being in the sixth circle, Heresy. It’s a circle described as hosting souls in flaming tombs, which I think fits this notion of a dungeon with cells holding on to souls, and keeps those souls close at hand and ready for another go in the seventh circle where The Rack is held. 
And this allows me to place the endless line as actually being either in the fourth circle, Greed, or the fifth circle, Wrath. The fourth involves a nation of lost souls who, in this pit of hell, lose their individuality and become sort of empty, which fits what we see in that brief clip of the Hell line. The fifth includes a “savage self-frustration” that seems fitting of the concept of that awful endless line, with sullen and angry souls fighting each other in muck and slime.
Regardless of fourth or fifth (I have no strong sense of which fits better), I see that line as being meaningful outside (above) the sixth circle, in a torment that is less acute, as souls that are less unique and differentiated, less violent, less worthy of turning into black-eyed demons.
Because in the Inferno, there’s this critical division between the fifth vs. sixth circles as the transition between the two being the transition into “Lower Hell” and the sixth being behind guarded walls, with another steep drop from the sixth to the seventh, and so on. This makes sense to me as Lower Hell being a place where they keep the Dungeon and guard the doomed souls, whereas that place outside those walls hosting the damned but less special, less differentiated, the more generically doomed... yeah, it just makes sense to me (your mileage, as always, may vary).
This distinction is important also because of that drop down. If distance and depth are important to temporal distortion, then it matters if the first few circles of Hell involve less of a steep drop one to the next. Here we should note that the seventh circle involves three rings, and the eighth circle (Fraud, aka Malebolge, another very strong contender for the location of The Rack since it’s essentially an amphitheater for torture, so I’ll do the math both ways below)*, well the eighth is basically a funnel with 10 separate rings or steps downward.
Why does this matter? So glad you asked!
Increasing Temporal Distortion at Each Level
If you’re following the hints I’m dropping, what I’m implying about getting deeper into Hell and the further drops down at the later levels is that the time distortion in Hell does not increase linearly. It increases exponentially.
Limbo has temporal distortion that is so minor as to be barely perceptible, if perceptible at all. The Rack gives us an explicit (if fuzzy) estimate of 1 month = 1 decade in terms of perception. The Cage is implied to be much, much more than that, at the extreme end up to 2-3 minutes = 1 week in terms of perception.
If the time distortion was linear, meaning that from circle 1 to circle 2, and circle 2 to 3, and 3 to 4 and so on, we should expect that the amount of time distortion from Limbo (circle 1) to the Rack (circle 7 or 8) to be a much, much wider gap than the amount of time distortion from the Rack (circle 7 or 8) to the Cage (circle 9). Like... it should be 7-8x as much distortion.
And I mean, you could take a linear headcanon approach to it. If we accept that SPN Hell has circles or layers as is Word of God and overtly implied by the narrative time and again, you could say that there’s x amount of distortion at circle 1, and 2x at circle 2, and 3x at circle 3, etc, and this would works okay when we got the math right, but like... it’s not my preference given the way canon works.
What I mean (especially for those who hate math so might not be automatically sussing what I’m saying), is that, for example, if 10 seconds in Limbo = 1 second on Earth (sure why not) then if the time distortion increases the same way (”linearly”) at each new circle of hell, then on the Rack we get 70 seconds = 1 Earth second (or 80 seconds = 1 Earth second, if the Rack is in the eighth circle).
That specific math doesn’t check out (it equates to 23.3 years on the Rack instead of 40, or 26.7 if the Rack is the eighth circle instead of the seventh), but to figure this out we should of course work backwards starting from the 4 months = 40 years. Which tells us that each second on Earth feels like 120seconds (2 minutes) on The Rack. If that’s happening at the seventh circle, then a linear difference between each circle of hell means that the time distortion in Limbo is roughly 17 seconds for every Earth second. This math works out a little prettier if the Rack is the eighth circle because that’s an even 15 seconds for every Earth second.
To me, that’s stretching how much time distortion is implied to occur at Limbo and vastly exaggerating what we see with Sam rescuing Bobby from Hell. If Bobby is actually kept in the 6th circle, that’s 102 (7th circle) or 190 (8th circle) seconds in Hell for every second on Earth. It just didn’t seem that Sam was spending a minute and a half in Hell for every second that Dean was spending on the surface in Taxi Driver, but then again, I haven’t rewatched that episode so I’d have to double check to know for sure.
Between those implications about time distortion in Limbo and Bobby’s rescue and even the Throne room when they visit Rowena to the way Dante’s Inferno (which SPN canon clearly drew from) funnels more extremely downward the deeper you go in the circles, to what Sam’s episode of Hell memories could imply about his experience of time dilation in the Cage (assuming we accept his statement about his episode “feeling like a week” even if we don’t take that number at exactly face value)... an exponential increase just makes more sense, mathematically?
And again, for anyone who doesn’t like math or doesn’t know what that means and why I keep using this word “exponentially,” what it means is that the difference between the first circle and the second circle is not as big as the difference between the second circle and the third circle. At each depth, the intensity of the time dilation increases. So that you might not even notice the difference in time dilation between circle 1 and 2, but the difference between circle 5 and 6 is massively noticeable, and the difference between circle 8 and circle 9 is like several times even that big. Like Inception!
So let’s run some final calculations and get you your answer(s), Anon!
Some Final Math and Estimates*
Assumption 1: Equivalent Dilation
If we assume that there is no difference in time dilation from one region of Hell to another, then the ratio that Dean gives us in Season 4 is accurate for all of Hell, and 1 month (30 days) in the pit feels like 10 years. That’s 120 seconds below to every second above.
This would mean that in 18 months in the Cage, Sam experiences 180 years worth of torture.
Assumption 2: Linear Dilation Circle 7
Assuming The Rack is in the seventh circle, then a linear difference at each level means that 120 seconds on the Rack equates to 154 seconds in the Cage at the ninth level. That would mean that in 18 months topside, Sam’s soul spent 231.5 years in the Cage.
Assumption 3: Linear Dilation Circle 8
Assuming the Rack is in the eighth circle (which, tbh, I kind of thing makes more sense even though I argued differently above, but shhh let’s pretend otherwise), then a linear difference at each level means that 120 seconds there equates to only 202.5 years for Sam’s soul in the Cage. Slightly less awful! 
Assumption 4: Exponential Dilation Circle 7
The simple way I’m doing this is that instead of taking the time distortion at Limbo and making it x2 at the second circle, x3 at the third, and so on, I’m taking the time distortion at Limbo and making it to the power of 2 at the second circle, to the power of 3 at the third, and so on. I still have to start with The Rack being 120seconds on Earth time and work backwards to get that initial Limbo starting point before I apply the exponent, but otherwise that’s all I’m doing. There are definitely more sophisticated ways we could approach it since that’s a pretty simple linear increase in the exponent, and we could instead make the exponent itself an equation we’d derive through more complex means but... I’m really not about to do that.
So.
If we start from The Rack = 120seconds (2mins), using the exponent assumptions above, then Limbo time dilation is roughly 2 seconds (actually 1.98167 or so) in Limbo for every Earth second (works beautifully for what we see in canon, basically imperceptible), and time dilation in the ninth circle is 471 seconds (7.85 mins) per Earth second. Yes, that big of a difference, because that’s how exponents work.
This would mean that Sam’s soul spent approximately 707 years in the Cage.
What a great number! What a reasonable number, and a pretty damn canon-compliant number to headcanon. I like this number.
Assumption 5: Exponential Dilation Circle 8
As above in terms of the exponent assumptions, if the Rack is actually in the 8th circle of Hell, that much closer to the Cage, then here the math works out so that 120 seconds on the 8th circle being... roughly 2 seconds in Limbo. Because that’s how exponential functions work. It’s actually 1.81928 in Limbo vs. the previous 1.98167, but that rounds to the same thing (2 seconds) in terms of human experience, even if it makes a big difference when we take it out to the difference it makes in months, years, etc.
(But like, this is why I think it’s exponential, because this works so much better for what canon implies about the time dilation there*.) 
Anyway, here, this would mean that Sam’s soul spent roughly 327.5 years in the Cage instead of the 707 from above. That’s a big difference.
Assumption 6: Off the Rails
We can also take Sam’s statement about 2-3 minutes on Earth (having a Hell flashback) feeling like a week in the pit. If we estimate conservatively and go with every 3 Earth minutes = 1 week in Hell, depending on how we approach it (depending on if you go with minutes in a week vs. a month and which way you get to a year), you get somewhere around 5000 years (in my present calculation it’s 4984, but I also calculated it another way to get to just over 5000).
Assumption 7: 9th Circle vs. The Cage
Dante’s Inferno distinguishes between the 9th Circle on its own vs. the Center of Hell as the place where Lucifer resides, right at the deepest depths. The Cage itself is remote in Hell, distant from all other demons, enough so as to be a matter of faith to many of them. If we allow the possibility that this all means that the Cage is deeper than the ninth circle itself*, we can add another linear layer or else another exponent (take our equation to the 10 instead of to the 9).
This works out to be:
Rack 7th Circle, Linear: 257 years
Rack 8th Circle, Linear: 225 years
Rack 7th Circle, Exponential: 1400 years
Rack 8th Circle, Exponential: 596 years
Meaning this is a good place to note that... depending on the final number you want to get to, you can use whichever assumptions you want to get there and justify it by math. Remember kids, there are lies, damn lies, and statistics.
TL;DR!!!!!
How much time did Sam’s soul spend in the Cage? My headcanon is that he spent probably either 600 or 700 years there, on the assumption that it was 18 months between Swan Song and Appointment in Samarra, and assuming time dilation gets more extreme the deeper that you go in Hell.
For people who want to make more conservative estimates but still embed some complexity to Hell’s time dilation and/or who be more canon-compliant to other glimpses we’ve seen of Hell’s time distortion (Limbo, etc), I think anywhere from about 200 years to 330 years is perfectly reasonable.
For people who want to go with maximum whump, the sky (5000) is the limit, but you can mathematically point to up to 1400 being pretty reasonable.
*Footnotes
1. Because canon plays fast and loose with how many months exactly have gone by, and some people headcanon that only about 4 months have passed in Season 6 before Appointment in Samarra when Death pulls his soul out. I personally read it as more like 6 months having gone by and think this is the more standard headcanon, so your 180 years is the most common interpretation, and definitely the most easy to defend. I also made calculations for Sam having spent 16 months in the Cage instead of 18 months there though, if anyone is interested.
2. There is also the Vestibule in the Inferno as the opening to Hell, before the first circle, and this requires passage from Charon to cross over and into Hell proper. This is where the quote “Abandon All Hope, Ye Who Enter Here” is from at the Gate of Hell, which of course is evoked in season 5 as the episode in which Jo and Ellen die.
I like to think of the Vestibule in the world of SPN as being any and all of the many Hellgates implied by canon, including the one that opens in AHBL2. No time dilation occurs within the Vestibule(s), as a person has to enter into Hell’s circles to properly separate themselves from the material plane.
3. Not getting into it here but if I ever get around to writing an original piece of fiction about angels and demons etc like I kind of want to, some of my worldbuilding will explicitly connect/relate angels to celestial bodies, like literally to stars, with the depth of hell essentially being a black hole, hence why the closer one gets to it, the greater the time dilation there is. Gravity and heat increase near the center of hell in this unbearable way, and then at the very center, like within the black hole itself, it becomes unbearably incredibly cold, like that frozen lake in which Lucifer is half-submerged in Dante’s Inferno. Lucifer existing impossibly both within and outside the event horizon. But I digress.
4. When you think about how many angels are implied to have died in order to rescue Dean’s soul, compared to how simply Sam snuck into Hell to rescue Bobby, I think the circles of Hell interpretation becomes quite important. If Dean was in the seventh or eighth circle, like especially that eighth circle, that’s so much deeper in than the Dungeon. The angels also couldn’t infiltrate subtly, methinks, and had to storm the walled and heavily guarded gates at the sixth circle, through that dungeon, then fight their way down the three rings of the seventh circle and possibly down into the amphitheater of the eighth. We know that their powers alone can’t kill a demon as powerful as Alistair even on Earth, so on their home turf in Hell, it makes sense that demons would have put up a really solid fight against the angels. This helps resolve some of my own frustration at what seems to be discrepancies in the abilities of angels and how dangerous they are to demons in canon.
5. Please be aware that all maths above involve some rounding, since I didn’t think anyone wanted the detailed decimals. I also calculated months as being 30 days and for simplicity, calculated years as being 12 months. I could rework the math into weeks with 52 weeks being a year instead, which gives slightly different numbers, but it’s work so I’m just going to go with these approximations. Also noting that I used calculated everything using excel to save myself a headache. I’m sorry if there are any errors, especially when it comes to the exponents, my brain got very tired. Please let me know if you find any.
6. When it comes to the exponential ones, if The Rack is in the 7th circle of hell, then if the Dungeon where Bobby was kept was in the 6th circle, then each Earth second is 60 seconds (1 minute) in the Dungeon. That’s more time dilation than I think canon implies, because 60 minutes (1hr) in the Dungeon is only a minute on Earth? In contrast if The Rack is in the 8th circle, then 1 Earth second is 36 seconds in the Dungeon. I honestly think both of these are more extreme than canon implies, but again, it’s been a million years since I watched that episode because it’s written by Bucklemming and I cannot stand their writing. But as a count in favor of the exponential argument instead of linear, if time dilation increases the same amount at each circle then 1 Earth second translates to 103 seconds in the Dungeon (Rack in 7th) or 90 seconds (Rack in 8th), both of which are a lot more dilation than our exponential account.
7. For simplicity, I’ve also ignored the different rings which occur at the 7th and 8th circles. Those would, of course, change the math here as well, and we could add another linear or exponential step for each of those rings. That would lead to some crazy numbers because we’re talking about 13 additional steps. Linearly we’d add a few thousand years, but exponentially we’re starting to talk about a geological timescale. I don’t think it’s productive to make that extreme of an assumption about those rings, but I think we could comfortably stretch the distance between the 7th circle and the pit in which Lucifer’s cage sits at the deepest depths of hell if we wanted to, if you wanted to reasonably get closer to that 5000 years estimate.
8. Since your ask mentioned it, Anon, I realize I don’t touch on Enochian in this post but I have two tag-rambles about my thoughts on enochian and I thought I had a proper post on it somewhere but can’t find it. I could/should probably make a post with a tumblr ficlet about that, since I started drafting a canon-divergent post-Hell fic with Sam and Enochian and there’s like... no chance I’ll ever finish it. But anyway.
Thanks for reading this far, to anyone who did.
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dante-and-dragons · 4 months
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So anyway. I started a Dark Urge run and the first thing I did was accidentally one-hit kill Astarion.
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t4tdanvis · 3 months
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i think i have the best versions of the divine warriors. by the "best version" i mean the funniest version
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milkweedman · 2 years
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Attempting some tablet weaving for the first time. I have essentially no idea what im doing--i did watch a few videos which mostly went in one ear and out the other, as well as look for some written guides which were completely indecipherable if for no other reason than Reading Hard.
The warping was fiddly but straightforward, and the first several inches are totally botched bc i wasnt really creating a clean warp shed bc i had no idea what belonged to what half, but after i figured that out it got way neater ! I'm not really concerned about how it looks though. This first attempt will serve its purpose either way, which is to be a bag handle so that i don't have to crochet or knit one. Yes i did finally try tablet weaving just to avoid knitting or crocheting more straps.
Also wow, these cards really arent going to last very long. I pulled them out of the 5 deck hand and foot set (hence why they're all 3s, since thats the worst card to get and i figured removing a few wouldnt be missed), but if id realized they deteriorate so fast i definitely would have just used something else. Oh well though.
Also, i had a feeling this would hurt my back, and indeed it does. I lasted about 10 minutes before it was too much. Might need to use a chair next time.
#was talking to my fiance about dyslexia earlier and have been thinking abt it a lot recently#was diagnosed as a teenager at the same time as the adhd#mostly dont think abt it and generally considered it not to affect me that badly#but i have a theory abt why i csnt read anymore and why written patterns are SO hard to follow#which is that i think reading for me takes a LOT of mental energy and focus#and if im low on that for whatever reason anything more than a few sentences is just utterly insurmountable and i can't read it#its even worse in any language other than english which baffled me for years#but ! my fiance was telling me how he has an easier time reading english than anything else bc he practiced SO MUCH trying to read normally#in english but didn't do the same in hindi or anything else#which like. oh. yeah. i also tried way harder with english bc that's what school was in and i was desperate to not be seen as stupid#which also explains why reading aloud in any language other than english is so so hard#reading hamlet aloud for english lit: god this sucks but i do love hamlet#reading dante's inferno (french translation) aloud in french lit: oh my god i hate every second of this and i think i will die from nerves#reading childrens poetry aloud in russian for my intro to russian class: if i dropped dead right now that would be preferable#and like my russian pronunciation was not the problem here#i could have a conversation with my teacher in russian okay#and i know cyrillic ! no problems there#but having to read it aloud ?? exhausting and miserable#anyway. all of this to say that i am not using patterns bc trying to mix reading with learning a new thing is just. not happening#backstrap weaving#tablet weaving
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a-passing-storm · 5 months
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Has anyone actually read Minimizing Marriage: Marriage, Morality, and the Law by Elizabeth Brake? Does it include any statistical or empirical information? Could you send me a picture of the citations page?
Even if you haven't, PLEASE reblog so that this can hopefully reach someone who has.
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piratekenway · 6 months
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for day three of @codextober: "enemy"!
Now Leon’s got his hands on Jacob’s torso, pulling his shirt up. “Oh, fuck,” he says. “Jacob, honey—when you try to breathe, do you feel any pain?” “You mean, are my ribs broken?” Jacob shifts in place, winces a bit, and shakes his head. Sure, the flash of pain lancing through his side isn’t exactly great, but he can still breathe normally enough. “Bruised, yes. I’ll certainly need to get them checked later. But I don’t think anything’s broken just yet—in fact, I rather think that welcoming committee had been downright friendly with us.” “Yeah, really liked the tea and crumpets they set out just for us,” Leon says, pulling a first aid kit from his bag. “Sit down.” “What, no miracle herbs?” Jacob asks. “Not now, no,” says Leon. “I ran out before I ran into you, and I haven’t exactly been on the lookout for them since the Tyrant showed up.” He pulls a cloth from the kit, then pours water from his canteen on it and folds it up, applying the damp cloth to Jacob’s torso. “Does it hurt?” he asks, worriedly. Jacob winces. “A bit, yeah,” he says. “I can still fight and sneak around, though, I’ve done more on worse.” “Please don’t do more on worse,” Leon says.
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portinaris · 1 year
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@yuiyuuji here's mine, Baby!
rules: shuffle your songs and post the first 10 that come 
1. Don't Blame Me - Taylor Swit
2. Stay - Ari Abdul
3. Arcade - Duncan Laurence
4. Arms I Know So Well - Emma Ruth Rundle
5. This Is What It Feels Like - BANKS
6. Daffodil - Florence and the Machine
7. War of Hearts - Ruelle
8. Er Eb Os - Lustmord
9. Happiest Year - Jaymes Young
10. Wish on an Eyelash - Mallrat
I am only tagging @rxdscarf <3
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hairmetal666 · 9 months
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The note shows up in Eddie's mailbox cubby on Valentine's Day.
It's nothing fancy, loopy cursive handwriting on lined paper:
"I know this is probably silly but I can't go another day without saying it, and today seems appropriate for this kind of confession. Seeing you in the morning is the best part of my day. You're so gorgeous it leaves me breathless. I hope you don't mind if I don't leave my name. Just wanted you to know that you're beautiful."
His eyes fill with tears that he blinks back, a goofy smile stretching his mouth wide.
"You good there, Munson?" Robin Buckley asks.
"Oh, yup, yeah, all good." He laughs. "Just got one of those 'you're my favorite teacher Mr. Munson!' notes."
He squeezes the letter to his chest before slipping it in his pocket.
---
The worst thing about Eddie's new job is that someway, somehow, Steve-fucking-Harrington works here too. PE teacher, JV basketball coach, of-fucking-course. Once a douchebag jock, always a douchebag jock. What makes it all worse is that he's still the prettiest guy Eddie's ever seen.
---
The first week of March, there's a commotion in the hallway that has him rushing out of his room, ready to breakup a fight. He finds Harrington already there, holding Dustin Henderson and Will Byers by their shoulders. Troy Walsh and James Dante stand across from them, wearing matching snarls.
Of course Harrington is picking on little nerd kids; he knew it. But before he steps forwards to break it up, Steve speaks, voice low and angry. "You want to tell me what happened here, Troy?"
"Byers tripped. He really should watch where he's going," Troy says. James laughs.
Steve's glare goes even more icy, more disdainful (it's so fucking hot, Eddie hates it). "You want to take that again? And try being honest this time, or you're suspend from the team."
Troy splutters for long enough that Eddie finally notices Will's stricken face, the sketchpad and snapped colored pencils littering the linoleum.
"I saw you take those things from Will, and unfortunately, I'll have to call your parents and you will be responsible for purchasing a new sketchbook and pencils. You're also benched for the next four games."
The boys shout, but when Steve raises a hand they quiet immediately. "You want to complain more, or do you want it to be five games?"
"No, sir," they answer before scampering off.
Harrington faces Dustin and Will. "You boys okay?" he asks them.
"We're good, Mr. H," Dustin answers.
"Glad to hear it." Steve begins collecting Will's ruined belongings, stops to study one of the drawings.
"This is really good, Will."
Will flushes. "Thanks. It's my character for dnd,"
"Dnd? That's that game that El and Max are always talking about? With the character sheets and the dice?"
"Yeah!" says Dustin. "You know it?"
Steve's smile is a little bashful, and it tugs at Eddie's heart in a way he has to ignore. "Not much. Just from what the girls have said. You want to tell me about it?"
"Really?" Their eyes light up.
"Really. You can stop by the gym during lunch. Only if you want to, though."
"Cool," says Dustin.
He pats them both on the shoulder, and they hurry away, leaving Steve and Eddie suddenly alone.
Eddie should head back to his class, hasn't been needed in this situation at all, really, but before he can disappear, Steve spots him and his eyes widen.
"You need something, Munson?" Steve's cheeks go a faint pink.
He shakes his head, feels wrong-footed. "Uh, that was really cool what you did just there."
"They're really good kids," Steve says. "I know them a little. Used to babysit El Hopper." He slides his hands into the pockets of his khakis and, seriously, fuck Harrington for looking like that in a pair of Dockers.
"Babysitter, Harrington? Never thought I'd see the day. Or that you'd be the one defending a bunch of nerds," Eddie says. He means it teasing, but Steve's face warps into a frown.
"Y--yeah, I guess. I mean. I'm trying not to be that guy anymore, and Robin's really helped--"
"Shit, man, I'm sorry. That's not what I meant, at all--"
"--I feel terrible about all that shit I pulled back in school. That King Steve stuff? I was awful and you didn't deserve--"
"Steve!" Eddie cuts him off. "I forgive you. For everything." He looks down at his shoes. "For all I didn't want to believe it, you really have changed."
They're both pink faced now, avoiding each other's eyes. "Thanks," Steve says. "I should get going, but--for the future-- I really wouldn't mind--um--trying to be friends."
The grin that passes across Eddie's face is huge. "Yeah, Harrington, I'd like that."
Eddie has to run to make it to his classroom on time. He passes Dustin and Will and the rest of their gaggle of friends, rushing them along, but forgets all about it as he steps in front of his third period juniors.
---
He and Steve are...friendly now. They chat, they joke, they share smiles that have Eddie's heart beating too fast even though it's not like that. Turns out Steve is kind and funny (a little bit of a bitch too, but in a way that ties Eddie's stomach in knots), and a hell of a teacher.
---
His freshman are in small groups, peer-reviewing an essays, when Max Mayfield catches his eye. She's one of his favorite students and absolute trouble.
"What's up, Mayfield." He asks.
"Are you friends with Mr. Harrington?" She asks.
He chuckles. "Sure, Max, we're friendly enough. Why?"
She narrows her eyes, like she knows he's not being totally honest. "Oh, nothing. He just talks about you all the time."
He's blushing horribly and Max, and all of her friends, smirk up at him. "He does?" He chokes out.
"Mmhmm," Lucas Sinclair says. "Says he thinks you're really cool."
"Definitely one of the best teachers here," Mike Wheeler adds.
Eddie rolls his eyes. "Okay, very funny, guys. How're your essays going?"
They answer, but before Eddie goes to help another group, Will says, "he really does like you, Mr. Munson. A lot."
El nods earnestly up at him. "It is true," she says. "I know him."
"Thanks, kids. I'll keep that in mind." He gives them a smile, tries not to let their words get to him. When he reaches the next group, though, he notices his hands are shaking.
---
Gifts start turning up in Eddie's cubby. It starts with a bag of oatmeal chocolate chip cookies from his favorite bakery. There's a small note that says "from your secret admirer," on the packaging. Every two weeks or so, something new shows up in his little mailbox; a woven friendship bracelet, a yellow rose, Hershey kisses, a delicately painted dnd figure that gives Eddie a small crisis because it's his own bard character, an Iron Maiden cassette, a bag of dice that almost brings him to genuine tears.
Eventually, he gets another note. This one is typed and reads: "I would love to have coffee with you 11am this Saturday at the Cafe on Main Street."
---
He walks into the cafe at 10:50am, wearing his favorite pair of ripped black jeans and a burgundy button-down, his hair pulled into a loose bun. He doesn't recognize anyone there.
Eddie gets in line, studies the menu, and the little bell above the door rings. He whips towards the sound to find none other than Steve Harrington in little wire rim glasses, a butter colored sweater, and jeans the man must have painted on, Jesus Christ. Honestly, the whole thing is enough to give Eddie a coronary (and to, embarrassingly, chub up in his own tight jeans).
"Steve?" He asks. He's overwhelmed with the (stupid, stupid) hope that it's been Harrington all along. "What are you doing here?"
"Henderson asked me to meet him. He around?"
"Uh, no?" Eddie feels heat creeping up his throat.
Steve shakes his head, as though he expected as much. "You alone? We could grab drink."
"I can't believe this." Eddie hides his face in his hands, knows it's gone horrifyingly crimson.
"What's wrong?"
"My secret admirer told me to be here now, so we could meet," Eddie's misery slices through his words. "I'm such an idiot."
"I--your--what?" Steve stammers.
He gathers himself enough to look Steve in his hazel eyes and ask, "I'm assuming it wasn't you leaving notes and gifts for me at work?"
And he expects Steve to say no. To laugh and ask why he'd ever do something like that, but instead, instead he flushes a deep red. "O-only one note."
"What?"
"I, uh," Steve clears his throat. "I left you a note. On Valentine's Day. I--we weren't friends yet, and I wanted you to know how much I liked you. It's --uh--it's pretty silly, huh? Robin's--"
"Steve," Eddie interrupts. He's going to tell Steve that he reads the note often enough that he has parts memorized; that it's the kindest thing anyone has done for him, but what he says instead is, "Dustin Henderson told you to meet him here at 11?"
"Yeah. Said he had something to show me."
Eddie remembers running into Will and Dustin and their friends that day in the hall, the weird conversation in class, the dice and the miniature. Something must click for Steve at the same time because his mouth drops, blush getting somehow deeper.
"Oh my god. Henderson! I'm gonna kill him. They figured out I had a crush on you."
"They WHAT?" Eddie says, loud enough that several looks are aimed their way.
"I'm so, so sorry, Eddie. Holy shit, this is so humiliating. You have to believe me, I had no idea they were doing this. God, I'm really starting to think it is possible to die from embarrassment."
"You have a crush on me," Eddie says instead of any of the dozens of helpful things he could say.
"Um. Yes?"
Eddie takes a deep breath, straightens his spine, and asks, "You wanna have coffee with me?"
"I'd really like that." Steve's return smile is so beautiful, it makes Eddie weak.
---
Eddie Munson is making out with Steve Harrington in the backseat of Steve's BMW. He and Steve spent the day together. They've kissed for so long that the sun has set, both of their lips are swollen, their skin red from stubble, and Eddie is nowhere near ready for the night to end.
Steve breaks away, gently pulling their mouths apart, but arms still tight around Eddie. "Hey, what kind of gifts were they giving you anyway? The kids?"
"Oh," Eddie blushes. "Uh, cookies, a dnd mini, lots of candy, a set of dice."
"Oh my god," Steve says, he pulls a little more away. "Oh my god, I'm going to kill her, Jesus Christ."
"Who are are you killing, sweetheart?"
Steve groans. "Robin. She was helping them. We found a set of dice at this little bookstore and she told me to get them for you, and--" he breaks off with a helpless, frustrated noise.
Eddie doesn't mean to, but he starts to giggle.
"It's not funny!" Steve says.
That only makes Eddie laugh harder. "Your best friend," he squeaks. "And a group of literal children set us up. That's hilarious, Harrington."
Steve's mouth drops and for a second Eddie thinks he'll be upset, but then he's giggling too, his whole face crumpling into it.
Steve pulls Eddie close once the laughter subsides, his eyes trained on Eddie's lips.
"We could pretend we didn't get together," Eddie manages to say.
"What, like, make them think they failed?"
"Yeah. We could tell them I got stood up, but you and I hung out. Had a bro day."
Steve giggles again, and it's the best sound Eddie's ever heard. "I'm absolutely on board with this plan, but you should definitely kiss me some more."
"Oh, yeah?" Eddie asks, his voice low. "And what'll I get out of it?"
"Why don't you get over here and see."
As if Eddie could turn down an invite that enticing. He slides a hand behind Steve's head, drawing him in, and they're kissing like they never stopped. It only been a few hours, but Eddie knows--without a doubt--he's already head over heels.
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ollie-jpg · 1 year
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HIS FAVORITE SHIRT.
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cryptidghostgirl · 1 month
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could you do Alastor and Lucifer with an Living! Adams Family! Reader?
A/N duh. this idea was so fun!! It's giving Beetlejuice in the best way
I Myself am Strange and Unusual (Alastor x Reader x Lucifer)
Pairing: Alastor x Reader
Warnings: Mention of suicide in reference to Dante's Inferno. Bones. Art made from bones.
Word Count: 1,655
Master Lists:
Master Lists 
Hazbin Hotel Master List
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Y/n sat before the summoning circle as she lit the las candle. It was a Friday and she was bored, what else was she supposed to be doing besides following some probably fake spell she found in a book she'd thrifted? She took after her mother in that regard but had wound up with her fathers rather flamboyant personality.
"Now, what are those words..." she mumbled to herself, turning the odd slip of paper the spell had been written on over.
Her eyes glazed over them and she cleared her throat.
"Spirits from beyond, I call you Lucifer, who first cursed us, I call you to me. Lucifer, who commands the legions of the dead, I summon you from the last plane to the first. Lucifer, wicked, heartless beast, I bring you to your knees before me. Spirits from beyond, I call you!"
Y/n looked up from the paper in excitement, a look which quickly dimmed as absolutely nothing happened before her eyes. She turned back to the paper, squinting to read the cramped letters.
"Okay, wait. Theres another name here. Uh, spirits from beyond, I call you. Alastor, keeper of the dark defeat, I call you to me. Alastor, demonic overlord, I summon you from the last plane to the first. Alastor, both hunter and hunted, I bring you to your knees before me. Spirits from beyond, I call you."
Again, her work failed to yield any results. Y/n stayed seated for a moment, waiting. When it was clear to her that the spell had not in fact done it's job, she sighed and got to her feet.
"Well that was a waste of a half hour."
She turned on the lights before leaning forward and grabbing the nearest candle. With a short breath of air, she blew it out only, somehow, all the candles seemed to go out as she did this, even the scented one on the shelf that hadn't been involved in the ritual.
"Oh there is no way." Y/n smiled, anticipation bubbling in her chest, "There is literally no way!"
The lights began to flicker as she placed the candle she was holding on the desk. The minute it hit the table's surface, the room fell into a short spell of darkness. As the lights flickered back on, Y/n saw two men standing in the center of the circle.
Well, men was a strong word. They were both humanoid in shape but, neither really looked like people. They looked around the room in shock, taking in every detail before their eyes landed on each other.
The taller of the two demons, the one all in red and holding an old fashioned looking microphone, widened his already close to horrific smile. The smaller one, dressed in all white, narrowed his eyes.
"You." the man in white sighed, crossing his arms, "Of course I had to get summoned with you."
"There is literally no way." Y/n exclaimed, cutting off the red demon as he opened his mouth to speak.
Both men turned to Y/n, in her black dress with her wide excited eyes.
"Ah." the red demon hummed, his voice coming out like radio static as he straightened his jacket, "You must be the one who summoned us. I am Alastor, quite the pleasure to meet you. Yes, quite the pleasure."
Y/n turned her gaze to the demon in white.
"So that means you must be Lucifer. It is such an honor to meet you."
"Huh." Lucifer smiled slightly, "Now that's more like it. Wait, you're not one of those freaks, are you?"
"Freaks?" Y/n asked, her head cocked slightly to the side and her brow furrowed.
"One of those oh! You brought evil to the world! You're my idol people." Lucifer imitated animatedly.
Alastor shot him an irritated look as Y/n's eyes widened and she shook her head.
"No no no! They have it all wrong. You didn't bring evil, you gave us the greatest gift of all. You have us free will, self determination. The ability to be exactly who we are and want to be."
Lucifer turned to Alastor, crossing his arms over his chest with a self satisfied smile.
"Oh I like her. Pretty and she knows her stuff?"
Y/n blushed slightly, looking away. She clasped her hands behind her back. Alastor didn't like that.
"Yes, quite the charming girl indeed." he hummed through gritted teeth, meeting Y/n's eyes.
"And Alastor..." she put a finger to her lip in thought, "Alastor... I am really sorry, I don't mean to be disrespectful, but I don't think I have ever heard of you before."
His eye twitched and Lucifer's grin widened.
"Well, my dear, I just so happen to be one of the most powerful overlords in all the rings of Hell."
"Huh. Neat."
"So, what have you called us here to do?" Lucifer asked amiably.
"Oh, well, I hadn't really though that far. Um..." she looked around the space of her room.
There wasn't anything she really wanted. Y/n had a comfortable life, a loving family. Anyone she wanted revenge on she was more than capable of taking care of on her own. Mostly, she was just bored.
Nodding her head once, she walked up to the edge of the summoning circle and promptly sat down. Her legs crossed, she adjusted the long skirt of her dress over her knees.
"Let's just chat."
Alastor and Lucifer exchanged a confused look.
"You are going to have to ask us for something, my dear." Alastor hummed pleasantly, "Otherwise we wont be able to go home. That's how this little game works, after all."
"So, I am asking you to chat. Do you guys want any drinks or something?"
With a shrug to Alastor, Lucifer sat down on the floor with his legs crossed as well. With a reluctant sigh, Alastor followed suit.
"So, what is Hell like?" Y/n asked eagerly, "Is it dark and full of bugs? It can't really be all fire and lava pits like all the art says. I mean, Dante's version of Hell makes more sense than that. Oh my gosh, is there a suicide forest? I always loved that idea, that they turn into trees. That they get the most peaceful of the options, is it real?"
"Well, there are trees." Lucifer began carefully.
"But they are not made of people's souls. No, it's actually rather close to this world down below." Alastor finished for him.
"Really? You guys have like jobs and stuff?"
"Some of us do. I am actually currently involved in a project helping to rehabilitate sinners. 'Check out of Hell and into Heaven,' that's the whole idea of the thing."
"Like you actually believe in that." Lucifer scoffed and Alastor raised a hand to his chest in false ofence.
"You... are you questioning my motives?"
"Not cool man." Y/n shook her head, "That sounds like a pretty cool project, I didn't even know something like that was possible."
Before Alastor could reply, Lucifer cut in.
"It is my daughter's project, and we aren't actually sure its possible yet."
"You have a daughter!? Is she the antichrist?"
"We-"
"Charlie Morningstar is her name." Alastor interrupted Lucifer, "And she is quite powerful. Talented too."
Lucifer turned to Alastor, glaring at him.
"Don't start this shit again."
"It's not my fault I've been there for her more than you have."
"It's more complicated than that."
"Sure it is."
At a sudden peal of bell like laughter from Y/n, the demons stopped their bickering and turned to her. She held a hand over her mouth as she tried to calm herself.
"Are you guys always like this?"
Lucifer and Alastor exchanged another look before nodding. Y/n lowered her hand, still smiling brightly.
"Maybe I'll ask you to stick around."
"You... aren't like a lot of other humans I've met in my time." Lucifer admitted.
"Strange and unusual."
"What?" Lucifer asked.
Y/n shrugged.
"That's how most people describe me. Strange and unusual. Or wonderously strange, if you ask my dad."
"Well, there is nothing wrong with that." Alastor hummed, "Strange and unusual is the best way to be. Keeps things interesting."
"Oh, no. I know. I didn't mean it in like a sob-story way. Just like, that's how I am. I don't know."
"Not a lot of people summon us. Especially not just to chat." Lucifer stated and Y/n smiled.
"What can I say, I was bored."
"You summoned us because you were bored?" Alastor repeated, his brow furrowed.
"Yeah. My friends were all busy and I love my parents but I do not love being around them on their Friday date nights let me tell you. The dancing is cute but the sword fighting when some old flame of my mother's shows up as they do every couple months? Terribile. Nothing blocks out the clang of steel against steel."
"Sounds like you come from a rather interesting family." Lucifer noted.
"Strange and unusual. I don't come from nowhere."
"Well, aren't you a gem in this dull world." Alastor mused and Y/n looked away, her cheeks slightly flushed again.
"I don't know about that, but I certainly try. Oh! Do you guys like bones? I don't know, is that a dumb question? Was it rude? Racist? Wait. Hell-cist? No that feels wrong too."
Lucifer chuckled slightly.
"Why do you ask?"
"I have a pretty big selection. Mostly deer bones."
Alastor's ears twitched.
"Deer bones?"
"Yeah." she nodded, "We eat a lot of venison at home and ever since I was a kid, my dad let me keep the bones to do projects with and the like. I have a lovely wind chime I made using parts of a spine but, sadly, its at my parents house."
"Strange and unusual." Alastor hummed.
"Strange and unusual." Y/n nodded.
----
A/N I was lowkey not sure how to end this one, I am sorry about that. I hope you liked it!!
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notrattus · 2 months
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sittin' pretty - [dante sparda]
he’s been picturing you on the back of his eyelids for so many nights now, until finally he can have you exactly the way he imagined…
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ft. dante x f!reader
18+ MDNI. if you do not have your age on your blog you will be blocked, you must be 18+ to interact with and follow this content.
content: porn no plot, oral sex (f!receiving), face sitting, male masturbation, and i think that’s all?? just needed this out of my brain into the world </3 (half arsed the proofread because im tired so please excuse any errors!!)
word count: 4.5k (this is what self indulgence looks like)
ao3 ver. (must be a registered user to view)
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“Oh c’mon. Don’t keep me waiting, darling.”
Dante’s drawl comes low and gravelly as his hands keep a white knuckle grip on your hips, fingertips pressing dints into soft skin. Your knees rest beside his ears that are flushed red at the tips and thighs bracket his head with a hand fisted into unkempt silver hair. You tug at the strands teasingly.
“Don’t rush me.” You chide playfully, sighing a laugh. “I’m not used to this.” Your words are nothing more than a whisper that trembles with your nerves, swallowing the lump in your throat and bringing your hips forward to hover above his face.
He purses his lips and turns his head to the side, caressing a hand down the outside of your thigh as he presses a couple of gentle, messy kisses to the inside of your leg. Dante’s touch is tantalisingly rough. The drag of the toughened skin on his palms raking over your body makes you want to squirm and the press of his kiss-bitten lips sends static rolling over you, compelling you to give way to desire.
“It’s okay, angel.” He murmurs softly, looking up at you with that glazed over stare and half lidded eyes, a mind so clouded by lust. He urges his chin forward as if trying to reach you but your hand in his hair keeps him pinned back against the pillow.
“It’s no different than before, yeah? You’ve just gotta sit pretty for me. Whenever you’re ready.” Dante’s tone is patient and voice velvety, never straying away from the reassurance you need so badly to hear. His hands trail around to the tops of your thighs and squeeze encouragingly, thumbs rubbing small circles that calm your racing thoughts.
It’s not as if you haven’t been this vulnerable with Dante before, stripped down and bearing all, goosebump littered skin exposed to air and lascivious touches. But it’s the first time you’ve loomed above him like this. You’re not used to looking down at the smug smirk he wears or having him pinned beneath you so effortlessly. It’s as thrilling as it is nerve wracking.
But he’d been thinking about this for weeks. It was only a matter of time until he couldn’t stand to wait anymore.
When you went to lie back into the sheets as you always do, ready for him to clamber above you and have his way, Dante couldn’t help but groan. Though it wasn’t his usual grumble of impatience, no, this one sounded far more exasperated. You were struck with confusion as he slovenly kissed his way up your neck, grazing over every erroneous spot he’d already doted on, to hover his lips by your ear and utter his confession.
“Angel?” He whispered, lying between your legs.
“Hm?” You tried to push back at his shoulder to get a good look at his face but his stance was steadfast, a familiar weight that caged you to the mattress. He nosed against your temple and breathed you in unabashedly.
“I uh, I was thinking- How about we try something else, change it up a bit?” His timbre was rough, impatient, and the way he brazenly groped you over your thin clothes gave away his desperation. As did his hard cock pressing heavy against your thigh, restricted by the cover of his leathers.
“Oh?” Came your little mumble of surprise, a gasp hidden behind a giggle. “Yeah? Is there something you were thinki-“
“Mhm. ‘Want you to sit on my face.” His words were rushed and slurred like even the idea of it was enough to cloud his mind, the image having played on the back of his eyelids countless times before. With eyes closed he was rolling his hips into yours and pushing his hands under your shirt hastily, picturing you in such a compromising way.
“Please? It'll feel good, you know? ‘Promise.”
The little moan you let out at the thought of it was exactly the reaction Dante was hoping for, the implication that you could fulfill that little fantasy, it made his cock twitch behind the fabric pulled taut. You nodded and hurried to pull him into a kiss.
Quick work was made of your clothes. Some seams were popped and torn in the flurry as he hungrily sought out the warmth of your bare skin, ducking his head to litter kisses on every exposed inch. It took your palm being gently pressed to his forehead to get him to ease up, take a little more time with you. The apology was as sheepish as his beaming smile.
He flipped the both of you over with flustering ease once the fabric was cast aside and forgotten in a pile on the floor, landing with a soft ‘puff’ on fluffed up sheets. The air was growing stuffy as warm, gasping breaths filled the room and it fuelled your anticipation cruelly. Only his grey boxers were left, having snatched you by the wrist when you tried to reach for the waistband.
“Ah- You first, baby.” He tsked with a tone that grew deeper, a sultry lining to his words. “‘Can't wait any longer, gonna make you feel so good.”
It took some getting comfortable, a fit of bubbly, giddy laughter and ‘are you sure?’ before you were able to steel your nerves enough to straddle his face, watching him buzz with excitement as his steady hands took purchase on your hips. He was sure.
“There you go.” Dante laid himself down to the sheets so willingly, unwaveringly eager and trying his best to be patient. But he didn’t even try to mask the whisper of ‘yes yes yes’ that kept echoing under his breath. He couldn’t help it. He needs this.
But now that nagging of something doubtful, something anxious, was boiling over again and you found yourself frozen above him, chest heaving with shaky breaths.
“Angel? You with me?” Dante gently prompts, again squeezing your thighs in those calloused hands. “Watcha thinking about? Hm?” His gaze was steadily trained on you, blown pupils that swallow the icy blue and make the pound of your heartbeat that much faster. He looks wild with it, his self restraint pulled thin.
You spare a sheepish smile and a small shrug of your shoulders. “Dunno, maybe I’m just feeling the pressure with you staring at me like that.” Your smile pulls wider, a creeping in of playfulness that keeps the mood light. He pretends to be scandalised, thick brows furrowed with a wrinkle in the middle and lips fallen to part. He quickly muscles down his look of offence for something far sweeter.
“Well, there’s no pressure, baby. You know that, don’t ya?” His tone and demeanour softens in an instant, hands slackening the grip on your thighs in favour of sweeping up and down soothingly. You let out an airy laugh.
“I know, I know.” You nod, humming. “It’s just what you do.” His bemused look swiftly returns as you card your hand through his hair, sweeping back the long, wispy strands and showing off his handsome face. The delicate touch makes him shudder.
“What? Am I making you nervous?” A grin begins to pull Dante’s lips up, a mix of something smug and something impish as he knowingly raises his brows at you. You grumble a shy retort but he takes your sudden quietness as confirmation, licking his lips as his bravado swells with that typical kind of self confidence he so loves to boast.
“Aw, that’s it, hm?” A low laugh rumbles from the back of his throat, broad shoulders shaking with mirth beneath you. “Oh angel, you’re so sweet. How about this? ‘This better?”
Still smiling so smugly Dante closes his eyes and tips his head back a little, each movement slow and exaggerated to guide your gaze. His tepid hands return to your hips to give a guiding yet gentle tug forward, just enough to punctuate his point, to emphasise his haste. You can’t help but giggle again, made bashful by his fervour.
Because it’s not that, it’s the tension. Like a burning up all along your skin you feel the anticipation eating away at you, making you freeze up as your body flushes hot from head to toe. Having told yourself that you’re not used to this only made you worse but the dull ache you feel is begging for relief. And as the desperation grows more fiery all it takes is a little more sultry coaxing.
“Come on darlin’. You know you want to.”
Swallowing the hitch in your throat you give his hair a subtle tug, a warning before you shuffle forward and bring your hips down, inching closer to his tipped up chin that waits for you. He listens to the rustle of your knees on the sheets, your shallow breaths that ring in his ears, and feels the subtle squeeze of your legs either side of his ears. He’s dreamt of this moment.
If he could bear to take a hand off you he would stroke himself to this, slow pumps of his fist as slow as your adjusting movements, savouring every second. The anticipation makes his skin hot, his chest tight and boxers tighter. He’s aching for it, but his painstaking patience will reward him.
He’s smiling, still, Dante is smiling as you carefully sit on his face.
The brazen groan that leaves his lips is instantaneous, hands squeezing your hips almost too tight and tugging you down to him. He wastes no time licking a messy, firm line along your cunt with the flat of his tongue, the boiling over of his impatience resulting in hurried actions. At last.
It's the perfect amount of pressure, a spark that bounces up your skin and makes an unbidden moan punch out of your throat. You double over on yourself with the force of it, hunched with fingers curling tightly into his hair.
“Oh fuck-“ You let slip a strained whine, trying to balance your weight above him with one hand pressed to the pillow to stabilise yourself. But his hands slide around to the backs of your thighs and with a mean grip pull you down ever closer, trying to wordlessly encourage you to rely your weight onto him.
“C’mon.” Dante grumbles into the crease where your leg meets your cunt. “Sit, baby. Properly.”
A small sound of confusion passes your lips before he tugs again and you are made to bear down onto your knees, buckling beneath his strong, commandeering touches. Your mind goes foggy immediately, finding it hard to think straight with all the sloppy kisses he drapes over your cunt, some left with small licks and others with a gentle suck. You give way to his insistence without another thought, not even consideration. You trust him to guide you through this.
It’s only a slight shift, an additional pressure perched on his chin, but it makes all the difference for Dante. The sound that rumbles out of his throat is obscene, what can only be described as a low growl that muffles against your body and gargles with his spit.
“There she is.”
His eyes flicker open for a split second, half lidded and lazy, just to meet your gaze before he starts languidly licking up your glistening cunt. Each stroke of his tongue is unapologetic, a smearing of drool as he grunts with each firm press that sends little shockwaves roving along your skin. Timid moans tumble from your lips, an outpouring in place of a thank you. The tension is melting away already as your body finally adjusts and you let go of what little hesitancy you had left.
Dante was right, this is not so different than usual. He’s just as sloven and hungry, squeezing at your thighs with a powerful grip and surging closer with every kiss so that the tip of his nose squishes against the bump of your cunt. But the heat that bristles up over your skin is sharper than usual, it tingles like pins and needles instead of thrumming like goosebumps. And you can’t put your finger on why.
Glancing down at him you see the wrinkle on the bridge of his ridged nose and the slight flicker of his eyelids. You swear you can still feel his adoring stare from behind them.
A careful tug at his hair has him craning his neck to bury his face further into you with spit slicked lips seeking out your clit. A couple of opened mouthed kisses with a tease of tongue has him there immediately, groaning as he closes his lips around the sensitive bud. Your hips lurch forward and something fiery flickers low in your gut, a surge of pleasure that makes your toes curl.
“Oh my- Dante-” Your voice wobbles as he gently sucks behind the seam of his lips, fuelling the fire that sparks inside you. “Yes, yesyesyes, oh god-“
Another tug has him gasping down a shaky breath before sucking harder and flicking over your clit with the tip of his tongue. His head is swimming, chest burning with the ache of yearning that makes the back of his throat feel dry, choked, but it’s bliss. Dante struggles not to squirm, bucking his hips into the air as if trying to find friction but the lack thereof makes a sharp shiver roll over him.
Your eyes never leave him, drinking in the sight as the ripples of pleasure fall stronger. His eyes rest closed and the skin crinkles at the corners, showing off those crows feet you know oh so well, like he’s grinning still. And so are you.
Your ragged breathing gets gradually quicker and you’re rolling your hips without even realising, unknowingly grinding down against his mouth. Shifting the angle of your hips he sinks lower to lave his tongue all over you, spreading you open and prodding at your dripping hole. But it’s a more than welcome intrusion.
Dante looks so sullied this way, with a sheen of your arousal on the tip of his nose and eyes shut so tight his features scrunch endearingly.
That’s it. That’s the difference that makes the fire burn in its new, twisted way. Beneath you like this the bravado he typically maintains is completely melted away, ravaged by the unabating fervour that commands his every move. The groans he lets out are more carnal as they reverb against your skin and each one somehow seems more… sincere.
You’re ruining him without even meaning to.
More of your own lewd outcries fill the room as something tense begins twisting taut in your gut, the familiar build of your climax. The sensation spurs on the eager drag of your hips but as the fire builds your movements begin to stutter, struggling to keep up the smooth glide. An ache is beginning to settle itself down like a weight on your legs and it sets in fast, unfairly so.
It takes Dante a moment to notice as he’s too absorbed in the sloppy circles he draws with his tongue, each one punctuated with a wet slurping noise. The noise makes a shudder shoot down your spine and you still your movements as a bubbling up of embarrassment steals your breath, making a lump hitch in your throat that echoes with a timid gasp.
He grunts lowly when he feels you at a sudden standstill and both of his rough hands squeeze your thighs twice in quick succession. There’s a slight pause and his mouth stills too, reluctantly so, bringing his chin down to create the tiniest gap between your bodies. But his breath is still hot against you, lapping over your cunt with the steady rhythm of his panting.
“Darling? You okay?” Dante asks in a whisper with his voice falling stronger thanks to the rasp in his tone. His eyes flutter open just a slither, barely enough to gaze up at you but still you shiver at the sight, heart hammering at an impossible pace. You nod hastily with a small, bashful smile.
“Yeah? Want me to keep goin’?” He gulps.
You know what he truly means to say is ‘please, let me keep going,’ and the way his hands caress up your hips to your waist makes it apparent. He’s insatiable, always desperate to feel every inch of your soft skin, to memorise every beauty mark and curve. He’s a man of limited restraint but for you he can bite back the cravings that take up his thoughts. But only if he has to.
“Mhm.” You murmur, untangling your hand from his silky, silver hair and resting both on the headboard to support yourself. “Just got tired.”
That earns a laugh out of him, an airy, chesty sound that’s no louder than his doting whispers but you feel the rumble of his mirth beneath you once more. He kisses the inside of your thigh tenderly and you can feel the grin that’s pulling his lips thin.
“Oh, angel.” Dante tsks, all faux disappointment and typical playfulness. “Already? Maybe we should switch things up more often then, get you used to it.” His words are still mumbled, still dangerously close to your spit-sullied cunt. His eyes fall heavily closed again and he presses a chaste kiss to your clit, making your whole body jolt and a gasp rip out of your chest.
“That’s okay.” Another kiss and his sultry words interrupted by your high whine. “I’ll do the work this time.”
Eager hands rove over your skin with undeterred hunger, that buzzing warmth his touch always carries from a body that runs so hot. He shows no patience with how he returns to brazenly licking your cunt and groans at the heady taste that washes over his tongue. There’s little to no rhythm or pattern, just a mad rush of unbridled hunger.
“Mmph!” You hurry to smack a hand down over your mouth and muffle your sweet moans as that nerve-numbing sensation of pleasure kickstarts all over again. Your toes curl and your back arches involuntarily, your body at the mercy of that molten fire that stokes low in your gut. And Dante too, of course.
With short nails raking over your skin he takes handfuls of your ass, using the leverage to hastily rock you against this face. It’s all a bit lax, uneven movements and the bucking of your hips, but his unapologetic groping has control over your body and with every drag your clit grazes over the tip of his nose. You shiver at the brisk contact.
Quickly abandoning your attempt to mask your pretty cries a roaring moan of his name punches out of your chest, eliciting a pleased grunt from him. He purposely urges his face closer to be flush against your cunt, leaving him panting down a gulp of air between each bold lick that teases your entrance.
It’s just the right amount of tension to cause your achy thighs to tremble and that coiling knot to twist tighter, forming a deep pit in your stomach. You try to roll your hips in sync with his manhandling but it’s too much to keep up with and you find yourself squirming above him. Just the way he likes it.
“Dante-“ You utter in a ragged whimper. “You’re so- ah! So good-“
The praise has him thrusting his hips into the air and groaning all the more, a breathless, throaty noise that’s near enough to a snarl. It only makes him greedier. His tongue shallowly plunges into your spit smeared hole and you cry out for more, involuntarily clenching when he closes his lips around you and grossly slurps.
“Dante please!”
He lets slip a carnal moan that thunders against you and you’re too caught up in the nerve numbing sensation to notice when one of his hands leaves your skin, burning up too much to realise the lack of his warmth. His own touch skips down his torso, an urgent brush of contact that hurries beneath the belt line, the pad of his thumb bristling over his scruffy happy trail. It was only a matter of time until the ache of neglect became too much for him.
Tucking his hand under the elastic waistband of his boxers Dante wraps deft fingers around his cock, caring not the mess of sticky pre-cum he’s unsurprised to find. With a swipe of his thumb over his ruddy tip he gathers the smear of it, slicking it down his shaft and beginning to slowly pump his fist.
The attentions of his mouth never slow or falter, practised and precise ministrations that have you hurtling towards your climax. A sweeping stroke of his tongue spreads you open for him and his nose again nudges your clit before your hips roll back and his lips return to the sensitive bud. He wastes no time closing his lips around it and flicking little licks that make you choke up on your own whines.
“Fuck!” Your thighs squeeze tighter around his head as you begin to lose command over your legs, that numbing feeling growing stronger as all of your focus is stolen by the twisting coil in your gut. You’re wound so tight that it’s near painful, a deep seated desperation that has you using up the last of your energy to grind down on Dante’s face, but you’re right at the edge, body thrumming with the build up.
“Please,” You stifle. “I need- I’m so-“
Dante grunts a terse ‘mhm’ between each ripple of his tongue on your poor, puffy clit, and nods his head a fraction to add that extra friction that has you tensing up your whole lower body as if bracing yourself. You try to take steady breaths to pace the frantic beating of your heart but it’s so echoing so loud in your ears that you can no longer hear his groans and you know you’re soon to crash, waiting painstakingly for the wave to hit.
His one hand keeps busy kneading the plush of your ass while with the other he rashly pumps his trembling fist around his cock to draw himself towards his own orgasm. There was no buildup, very few adjusting strokes before he began swiftly jerking himself off to every sweet noise you made and the taste of you blinding out his senses. It was desperate, merciless, just the way he wants it.
Every breath you take is punctuated by a high moan and that fiery knot is pulled so tight you can actually feel the burn. But a few more languid licks work to assuage the fire as the cord finally, finally snaps.
A scream of his name tears out of your throat that’s gone sore from your breathlessness and your whole body locks up momentarily, head thrown back and legs jolting to clamp down on his ears. It’s a flooding of bliss that makes you see stars behind your eyelids, a bristling of tantalising warmth that surges from head to toe, there’s no feeling quite like it. It’s earth shattering.
The spill of your orgasm onto Dante’s tongue has him roaring a moan flush to your skin, hungrily licking you clean with brazen fervour. His eyelids flutter and his nose scrunches, head lurching up from the sheets and shoulders following the sudden movement, but with your own eyes closed you don’t see his undoing.
There’s a flash of white behind his eyelids like a stream of blessed light piercing through cloud cover and his heart skips a beat, suspended in the blinding sensation for a long moment. With another carnal groan he finishes all over his hand, a shameful spurt that sullies his underwear and leaves the fabric dark with the mess. But it’s heaven, enveloped in everything you can give to him, the warmth, the weight, the taste. It’s all you.
It takes a couple of quick passing minutes for you to each come back down to earth, blinking away the haze that muddled your thoughts. You steal a glance down at Dante and find his eyes still closed but his features have finally relaxed, smoothing out the furrow in his brow. Even the sight of him is enough to make that timid bashfulness creep up on you and you hurriedly move away from him, shuffling down his body to straddle his stomach instead, your hands coming to rest on his toned chest.
The shift of your weight brings him back to his senses, eyes shooting open as he sits up and holds himself up on one elbow, the other hand still tucked beneath his briefs. He swallows the hitch in his throat and smiles lazily at you, lips wet with an obscene sheen that’s dribbled down underneath his chin in streaks. The sight makes your face feel impossibly hot.
“Dante,” You utter through a hushed giggle, the sound of disbelief. “Oh my goodness, you’re a mess.” One hand comes up to cup his clenched jaw and he gladly leans into the well of your palm, his own, heartier laugh filling the stuffy air.
“Yeah? Does it suit me?” His retort is just as smug and smooth as usual despite the way his pupils still seem to tremble as he drinks in the sight of you. But you can’t be mad at the dopey smile on his face that pushes his eyes to squint. Another, louder laugh bubbles up from your dry throat and you smack him on the shoulder lightheartedly.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” He simpers charmingly.
Having had a moment to stop and breathe the fatigue starts to set it heavy on your limbs, making you hang your head and let out an exasperated sigh. You hear Dante hum as his hand comes back to reach for you and squeezes your waist gently, a silent coaxing to bring you back to him.
“You okay, angel? Did that feel good?” His voice has softened back down to his usual, velvety whisper, and he begins to sweep soothing caresses up and down your back. You nod hurriedly and melt down further into tiredness thanks to the delicate touches, such a stark contrast to the moments prior.
“God, yes. So good, Dante. ‘Felt so good.” Is all you can manage to utter while making some coherent sense, beaming a giddy smile for him.
“Told you it would, baby. ‘Did for me too.” He gives you both another minute to catch your breath before he begins shifting his weight again, sitting up taller as if with intention to stand. “How about we get cleaned up then, yeah?”
Your brows pinch in the middle like his so often do, that look of bemusement that makes your mind stall for a moment, trying to catch up.
“But… What about you?” You ask quietly, going shy as if you shouldn’t be asking the question at all. You glance over your shoulder and Dante makes a small sound of protest, hissing through his teeth and going quiet, uncharacteristically so.
You take in the sight of the dark patch on his light grey boxers, the way they’re half pulled down to indecently expose his cockhead and his hand resting on his v-line with the sheen of his spend over the back is his knuckles. You gulp and stare for longer than you’re meant to, only turning back to him when he chuckles, low and curt.
“Told you it felt good for me too, angel.”
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lady-of-spades · 9 months
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-Crawling out from the crypt- Guess who’s finally not dead lmao? 
How Would Dante and Vergil React to Their S/O Kissing Them in their Devil Trigger:
Dante:
Man, when it comes to Dante in his DT before and after getting a smooch from his S/O, you’d have sworn you would have gotten whiplash at the difference--Nero definitely has. Some say he’s still trying to make total sense of it to this day. 
One minute smiling with sharp teeth and terrifying while tearing demons to shreds, and suddenly practically a giant demonic golden retriever of a man the next. While he may not have a tail like his brother’s SinDT, you just know from the look on his face that it would be wagging if he did have one. 
Unsurprisingly, this has led to a lot of demon possessiveness and clinginess because to this side of their mind it’s like “Oh! The mate is giving affection! This is nice! I want MORE! NOW!” 
You once joked about giving him a “special reward” after work if he got all of his jobs done before 8 pm one night as some special motivation after sending him off with a tender and teasing kiss out the door that morning. He seemed a bit low and out of it that day so perhaps some motivation would be good to get him going, right? 
Later that same night you swore the door to the front of the shop was going to come off with a half hour left to spare. All the while a very excited and eager boyfriend of yours stood in the doorway with his DT still activated. You didn’t originally thought to have much planned, not thinking Dante would make it in time, but his demonic half proved more than happy to expedite the process. You quickly learned not underestimate his more than eager DT and devil brain again after that. 
This has gotten to the point where you both have had to agree for the area around to be completely demon free because his s/o is not going to be let go until either Dante comes out of his DT or they’re both home. Fortunately so far Dante has had enough sense and willpower to be able to primarily do the former than the later.  
Though, in the moments where the DT gets to win out a little longer, do expect a lot of purring, face nudging, and possessive mildly restrained cuddling. If nothing else, you definitely know it’s become an added incentive to get both of his halves in gear if you ever need Dante to do something for you. 
Not that you often need to really ask, the man is more than whipped enough when it comes to his S/O. But kisses from them in any capacity will always help ensure he gets shit done. 
Vergil:
It’s no secret that Vergil enjoys keeping up this façade of being consistent composed and otherwise unaffected by those around him, instead opting to his usual intimidating and not so subtle resting bitch face. Which when you’ve been as emotionally stunted and constipated as Vergil has, it’s generally to be expected.
Though, much like his twin, Vergil is far from immune from his s/o’s affection, devil trigger forms or not. After his time with them as V, his bittersweet weakness of his has only grown tenfold. Not that you’ll have much in hearing him ever outwardly admit such things, certainly not with Dante, Nero, or any of the others anywhere around. 
But it’s okay, he has other ways of conveying it to them. Seeing how his DT’s always melt and purr into his s/o’s touch and kisses being but two of them. 
Now, while you’re likely only to get some low purring and subtle leaning with his normal DT, there’s always the rare chance of seeing Vergil’s SinDT’s tail wag. It doesn’t happen very often--not with his determined willpower--but it has happened on occasion. 
The first time was after he came home after a long and arduous day of cutting down demons with Dante after a much bigger job than usual. He had nearly scared the shit out of his s/o as he had suddenly appeared in his SinDT, though it quickly subsided upon realizing it was him. 
Where his usual self would have reverted to his usual self before approaching them for his usual welcome home kiss and a hug, he seemed plenty fine with having them take his much larger demonic head in their hands to caress it. The low purr that escape him was almost akin to a tiger as he felt their soft lips kiss both sides of his face. He was much too caught up in the soothing ecstasy of the moment to even notice his tail was happily wagging behind him until his s/o’s soft laughter pointed it out. 
The fact that the sudden realization caused him to immediately poof out of his devil trigger and back into his human form didn’t help much either. Easy to say it’s to remain a sworn secret they will be gladly taking  to the grave. 
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misc-obeyme · 4 months
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Lesson 37 spoilers below - it's screenshot heavy again because OH BOY we had a lot going on this time too. I took almost 100 screenshots lol. But don't worry, I narrowed it down... uh but there are still a lot so I apologize for that.
I do believe I said in my last post that if they were going to go full Dante, they would bury Lucifer in ice.
I only said that because I WAS NOT EXPECTING THEM TO GO FULL DANTE.
Now listen, it's been a long time since I've read the Divine Comedy, so there may be a lot more references that I am missing. I can tell you that the four circles or sections or whatever that Simeon named for us are from Dante. That right there is straight from Dante's Inferno, along with their names and who they're supposed to punish. I don't really feel like any of this has much relevance except that they used it as a backdrop and to create reasons for us to lose most of the people who came to help us as we went.
And truly the lore was fascinating in general, but there are a couple of specific pieces about this that made me go EXCUSE YOU.
It's the Celestial Realm again, guys. Cocytus is part of their domain. And the last area is for those who betrayed "him" as they so eloquently put it lol. Both Mammon and Lucifer are considered traitors in this regard, but I kind of suspect that if the rest of the bros made it to that level, they would've had a similar experience.
Anyway, I was pissed. I was like Diavolo in the hard lesson.
Right, so let's talk Mephistopheles. I'm not familiar enough with the legend of Faust or its variations to know if the way they described his special power is based on that. However, I highly suspect it is at least somewhat inspired by it. Considering making a deal with the devil is what that story is all about.
But aside from all that - I LOVE HIM OH NO.
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WHAT. This guy... all this time I thought he was really stuck up. And like I kinda get it, considering how he was supposed to be Diavolo's right hand man and everything. But he's straight up saying that he underestimated them. He seems to have no problem saying yeah, turns out I was wrong and you guys impressed me. So don't go around giving up now. AND he says they learned it from Lucifer? Like... he gets them. He understands them. And I was not expecting that at all. He keeps surprising me and I'm loving it.
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Welcome to my life, Mephi.
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It's pointless to resist.
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I'm telling you, this is just how it always goes.
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BUT OH! I'm not gonna lie, this made me feel something. All the brothers usually say such nice things to me, but this guy is basically like ARE YOU STUPID? And I love it?!?!? Augh I'm sorry I didn't give you a chance before, sir.
Okay, now let's talk Solomon being the hot old grandpa that he is. I SWEAR every time he shows up lately it's been making me more insane about him.
WE SUMMONED HIM. We needed him in Cocytus and he wasn't there, so we straight up SUMMONED HIM. We couldn't do it without Mammon giving us his power 'cause our magic is weak, but STILL!?!?
I think Simeon referred to it as teleporting, but really it was the same as summoning him. I think the words were even the summoning spell words.
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If this was actually me we were talking about, I would start doing it ALL THE TIME. Consider yourself on call, old man.
And then we got this excellent exchange:
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Not only am I always here for big bro Mammon getting protective, but Solomon bringing it right back was also great.
Okay, now let's talk about Raphael and Simeon.
Do you think we're dealing with Michael disguised as Raphael again? For some reason I don't think so, but... at this point, it's like how do you tell? I'm going to talk about it with the assumption that it's actually Raphael and not Michael.
Simeon during this part gave me chills. Because when Raphael showed up and spoke the punishment or whatever and Luke was about to protest, Simeon silenced him. Simeon wouldn't let Luke protest because he knew that wouldn't be good for our baby boy. Simeon was prepared to take the fall instead. And he wasn't about to just let things stand.
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I can't accept it. I swear, Simeon's character is far more complex than anyone gives him credit for. He doesn't get anywhere near the amount of appreciation he deserves. I HAVE FEELINGS ABOUT IT.
Right, but back to Raphael.
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Baby. He's crying. He was just delivering the ultimatum, the decision about the brothers' punishment, and he was crying. I was so surprised, it was so soft and sad and I wanted to hug him. And look at Simeon's frown. AND THEN
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EVEN LUCIFER. This man is chained up in some ice and he still sees how Raphael is struggling and feels sorry for him. (Like maybe he's been there before himself...)
This is why I think it really is Raphael. Because this feels like such a significant revelation of his character, I think it'd be a disservice to him if we found out later it wasn't him at all. So I'm hoping it's still him.
Now. Let's talk about Diavolo. I'm pretty sure this was in the hard lesson, so be aware of that!
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He is so pissed. I don't think I've ever seen Diavolo quite like this. Worried, sometimes serious, but angry? Like to the point where he thinks he might lose control? I don't think that's happened, has it?
AND BARB. His reaction is so interesting! At first he has this look of surprise, but then LOOK AT THAT SMILE. Here's Dia being like, I need you to stop me, but you can't tell me that smile on Barb's face belongs to anyone who's going to stop anyone. He looks like he's looking forward to it. I love him so much it's stupid. (Also I think Barbatos is just as much of a menace as Solomon is, he's just better at hiding it. Where do you think Sol gets it from??)
And of course the lesson ended with Lucifer BREAKING THROUGH HIS CHAINS. Ugh another cliffhanger.
In general, I really loved the brotherly affection that was running amok in this chapter. They were annoying each other and protecting each other and sacrificing for each other and it was all amazing. They banded together because they care so much about Lucifer, there's no way they would leave him to his fate.
And once again, the Celestial Realm is to blame. I think it makes sense that they're doing this. Before, they said that the seven brothers assuming positions of power in the Devildom meant that the power balance between the Devildom and the Celestial Realm was out of whack. That's why they wanted the brothers back. But the brothers wouldn't come back.
And while the Celestial Realm threatened war, they didn't do that, either.
Do you think perhaps the Celestial Realm collaborated with the House of Lords to get Lucifer trapped in Cocytus? The House of Lords controlled the train where everything went down. The Celestial Realm controls Cocytus. They probably knew that Lucifer's brothers would try to rescue him and counted on them getting trapped in the ice, too.
But perhaps they weren't expecting any interference from Mephisto or Simeon. They had to be expecting MC, I would think. Maybe they underestimated MC because they're human? And maybe they thought Diavolo would just accept it? (If so they are duuuuumb lol.)
Okay just a couple more screenshots because they made me laugh.
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PLEASE. I love their dynamic SO MUCH.
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Hmm. Is that a threat, Barb? 'Cause uh... you can casually threaten me with that slight smile any time I MEAN yeah, you tell 'em.
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I cackled about what do you mean "ahaha" like I can't believe Levi actually said that out loud lol.
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Cheer up, Belphie. Let Asmo live the otome dream, won't you?
Okay, okay, I'm done. Overall, I quite enjoyed this chapter, but I'm still sensing more drama, probably until the end of the season, honestly.
You think Nightbringer will make an appearance before it's over? It's almost like I forgot this whole new app was made to tell a story about him. He's just been mostly MIA. UNLESS someone else has been him in disguise all along...
Nope. No. I refuse to get into theorizing, this post is already too long.
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t4tdanvis · 5 months
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“if o’khasis takes over and garroth or i dies, i hope you know it’s your fault.”
dante is telling gene everything later and gene is like "well yeah thats the plan, im gonna lure zane out here and kill him". dante just stares at him while trying not to scream "youre not FUCKING HELPING"
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