Okay idea for the Dragon AU--
WHAT IF Diavolo is the king and Barbatos is his servant and Diavolo is secretley half-dragon on Sonnos side? And him trying to make peace with dragons is so he can reveal to his people that he's half-dragon and show they aren't bad
But at the point of the AU, people still hate them hence IK stumbling upon Mammon deep in the woods after being accused of being a witch
The reason I thought of this is because I think an AWESOME concept would be if Barbatos was a dragon that learned how to take on a human disguise and act like a human
But as a dragon he's like oroboros!!!! He's watched the rise and fall of both dragon and human kind over and over and over, essentially watching the world eat its own tail and unfortunately he's as much of a slave to it as everyone else, it's just that he's one of the only ones who realizes and actively remembers ALL of it
And he's hoping that Diavolo (with the power of this strange little human) might be able to break this cycle
Just an idea but my brain is firing at 100% right now
ohohohoooo this is GOOD
okok so imagine that diavolo's been (subtly) trying to make contact with the full-blood dragons, but barbatos knows this never works out - no matter how promising things start out, something always ends up going wrong, because there is a fundamental mistrust between both humans and dragons
so there's always a miscommunication that makes either side think they've been betrayed, or one side will be too tense and convinced they'll be attacked, so prematurely attack the dragons in retaliation; it always ends in either a mass-hunting of dragonkind, or destruction of the kingdom
but then this cycle is the first time ik shows up, and this important because ik explicitly trusts that her friends will NOT do anything to hurt her on purpose - the kind of unwavering faith that diavolo wants to establish between humans and dragons
of course, there's a bit of an obstacle in that ik is also mistrusted at this point - "of course the witch child would ally with those wicked dragons!" - i imagine there'd be moments where public opinion begins to change, e.g. when ik along with one of the brothers helps save a merchant being robbed by bandits
maybe they get on diavolo's radar for the first time because one of the nobles in his court (om mephistopheles perhaps) gets attacked by monsters while technically invading the dragons' territory, but the brothers save and then return him back to safety. to diavolo this is a MIRACLE, and he MUST meet this witch-child who's prompted the dragons to show compassion to humans immediately
(to put an ironic twist on this, maybe the reason ik's never appeared before now is because barbatos's attempts to set things on the right track in previous cycles always butterly-effected into her being killed prematurely; she only survives in this one because barbatos is standing back in the hope that diavolo would be able to break the cycle)
(he only figures this out upon going back over his memories from past cycles - since at the time the deaths were just part of the (what he thought was) inevitable collateral damage of his efforts)
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Simon forgets how strong he is
18+ MDNI - cw: bruising - ~700 words
just some Simon Riley NSFW brainrot ♥︎ - part 2-ish, and part 3-ish here!!
Simon forgets how to be gentle.
When he's at war, fighting and shooting and killing day and night, all he knows is hardness. Brutality. Ruthlessness. His hands and heart grow calloused and rough in his months away from you. Using his unfathomable strength to survive is what he grows used to, it becomes second nature.
But it's your softness he remembers, to keep himself sane. It's all he thinks about. Dreams of.
The way the flesh of your hips, your ass, your breasts, your belly, pillows so deliciously between his fingers when he squeezes his handful - so warm, so supple. The way your vanilla-balmed lips graze his scarred skin so tenderly, however undeserved your sweetness is.
And when he finally returns home, after months of missing, craving you - when you stand in the door, honey thighs bare by virtue of the black panties you wore just to torture him, soft tummy peeking out from under your crop-top - he just can't restrain himself.
You greet him with your sugary smile, stretching up on your toes to curl your loving arms around his neck - your gentle voice, music; "Si, ah! I'm so glad you're okay…"
The moment your velvet skin touches his, his shackles crumble. Like a beast starved, he clutches you. Mammoth arms curl around you, constricting, gripping you eagerly like you might be a dream; liable to turn to a memory, to smoke.
His avaricious embrace lifts your feet from the ground, though he doesn't mean to - he burrows his nose and mouth into the crook of your neck, lets the curls of your hair smother him and fill his chest with the faint scent of your fruity shampoo. Fights every urge to take a bite, like you're a ripe nectarine.
Growls into your skin, through his jaw; "I fuckin' missed you, love. Christ, you have no idea how much I missed you."
"I missed you too, baby…" you coo into his ear, even your breathing is tender - he can't take it.
So he ferries you immediately to the sitting room, scoops you up like you weigh nothing, lets you coil your buttery thighs around his waist as he sits you on his lap on the sofa.
His wide hands take their greedy handfuls of your body - of your waist, of your hips, of your thighs, of your ass. Finally indulging the impulses he had dreamed about for so long - the very image he had fucked his fist to more times than he could count while parted from you.
With his teeth on your shoulder, tongue laving your warm skin; "So fuckin' soft," he grumbles deeply, and urges, "pretty thing. So soft. Fuck, I missed you."
His cock is hasty to grow boulder-solid under his trousers, and he chastises himself - but you answer with a cloying giggle, grinding your mound against its rigidity as if to torment him.
"Mm, you did miss me," you tease, little brat.
Then in an instant, all he can think about is the softness of your syrupy pussy, the gumminess of the inside of your cunt as its walls caress and milk his cock like it was built just to fit him.
You make him fucking ravenous, so voraciously eager to have you that he doesn't even notice his hands turn to vices around your flesh - fingers burrowing so deeply into the cheek of your ass that he might break through the skin.
"Ah!" You yelp, "Ow - Simon - you're hurting me-"
Your squeak of pain is enough to immediately shatter him - so he rapidly lifts you off of him, protecting you from his impulse. Stands you on your feet so that you're no longer victim to his inability to control himself.
"Shit, I'm sorry-" he grunts under his breath, "I'm sorry."
"It's okay, it's-" Your brows curl in worry, turning to look at where he had clawed you - and he sees the purple bruises where his hand had wrenched the flesh of your ass, the red lines where his fingernails had nearly punctured you. "Oh," you breathe at the sight, "…wow."
Drowning in visceral shame, he can barely bring himself to touch you again. But your soft hand caresses his hair, running through the sandy tresses - you, somehow, the one to comfort him.
"It's okay, baby, I know you didn't mean to," you purr fondly, and he leans forward to shamefully press as soft a kiss as he can into the bruise he gave you. Fucking monster.
"I'm sorry," he croaks into your skin, hoping his guilt will reverse his barbarity. "I just missed you."
"I know," you croon, turning to plant a loving kiss into his hair. "It's okay."
You guide him to lean back, mounting his lap again, letting your pelvis grind against the erection you were quick to reawaken.
His hands barely ghosting over your skin, he restrains himself, touches you carefully.
You whisper, into his stubbled cheek; "I'll show you how to be gentle again."
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