Work Text:
Lust, a sin of desire. The ache of wanting something so sacred and tarnishing it with filth. Self-gratification disguised as love— a sickening display of cupidity and pleasure tainting the soul within.
A common sin to fall into, and an even scarier sin to escape. The tight grip of it would drag you down to the depths and rip you apart—a gruelling, dreadful fate. Yet, for those born from the cracks of sin, it's their duty. Not to think, but to be the stiff representations of what tears to shreds mortal relationships and lives. To “love” would go against what their existence is based upon.
Lustful entities weren't feared as much as they were looked down upon. Every entity had their own thing going on, something that made them unique, but those of lust were in some way similar. An aura resonated around them, a sensation of sick swarming those who stepped too deep. Even Mime, a creature who had some level of charm could not escape the uneasy stares. In fact, it was a novelty for anyone to linger around them for more than a few seconds. Especially Drain.
The tall, headless being kept to itself often for its presence wasn't ever needed nor accepted. Roses littered its frail figure, petals occasionally dropping to the floor at the first sign of rot. Bells jingled at its slightest movement, a warning of its arrival. It laid idle, unmoving, similarly to a bottom feeder sunken beneath the ocean sand.
It waited and waited. That's all it could do. Wait for someone to interrupt its blank thoughts, wait for another mortal to get too close and experience the overwhelming sensation of sin, wait for someone to turn their head in disgust.
Wait.
But waiting wasn't enough, was it? Truly, it got to a point where Drain didn't know what it was waiting for. It was expected, predictable even. The empty hole in its heart grew bigger— an avaricious desire for anything to fill it spreading like an illness in its body. The feeling was so great, it teetered over the edge of insanity.
Loneliness wasn't a good feeling, even for the most wicked of entities. A deep hole that no one can be bothered to help you out of. And you’d cry and cry..
And cry…
and cry…
Until someone finally hears your prayers.
There were always new entities appearing— an endless cycle of sin and repentance, but lately a new taint has been more present. A black and yellow figure with a noticeable frown on its face, contrasting the mighty “king” in a way. Maybe they were related? Drain wasn't quite sure. Its body was littered with golden jewelry hanging from every corner. A few scars trailed along its arms, evidence of its reckless pursuit. It showed hints of an aquatic nature, small gills and fins peaking from their head and back.
Covet was it's name. The taint of Envy.
Its frown seemed to hold more weight to it now. Representing one of the only sins that really had no “upside” nor pleasure when indulging in it seemed like quite the hassle. To want and want and never be satisfied —a fate doomed to relying on the successes of others rather than your own? Terrible, truly terrible.
Drain could relate to an extent, though. Envying others, the affection they got that it could only dream of obtaining. It most definitely wasn't a foreign concept to the headless creature. Drain also noticed how Covet was treated, often disregarded and thrown to the wayside, never seen as anything more than a miserable burden that could only ever “want” but not “have”. It was laughed at, mocked for its behaviour. She was shunned.
And so were they.
It was pitiful, yet it sparked something in Drain. A “sense of familiarity” one would call it. It's never met somebody of such likeness to itself.
Well, “met” was a little far fetched consider it never interacted with the taint, but it watched. It saw how Covet snuck things from others into it's domian, it saw how it would hold tightly onto anything it possessed, it saw how she’d eyeball the shinest of objects, and it saw how lonely it was with only material things to soothe its ache.
Drain couldn't express what exactly it was feeling. Could it be lust? That wasn't a very far-fetched theory to the mind of most, but Drain saw it differently. No, this didn't feel like a sickness. It didn't feel like a heavy burden constantly weighing the entity down either. It was something else. Something that Drain didn't think it wanted to face. Not out of fear, but out of shame.
Because to “love” would go against what their existence is based upon.
And without lust, was Drain worth anything at all?