#nightbringer spoilers

[moonstrumpet]

“My love for you transcends time” ~Barbatos, The Nighbringer..

UGHH IVE BEEN WORKING ON THIS FOR SO LONG.. i’ve been coloring it and coloring it over and over so i gave up and decided to post it.

[princessasmosprincess]

Big strong Asmo who would disregard his vanity and narcissism to protect you at all costs.

[still-a-morosexual-help]

Mammon and Lucifer's intimacy rate going up when MC says they're worried about Mammon

And then, Lucifer and Mammon's intimacy rate going up when MC's worried about Lucifer

they care about each other so much🥺

[obae-me]

The Reunion We Deserved

I said I would do it and so I did, all in one night, one sitting, fueled by nothing but determination, random inspiration, and spite. I re-wrote and created my version of what I would've liked to see at the end of Nightbringer Season 2. Is this a bit dramatic? Yes? Is this the kind of thing I wanted anyway? Yes. I want sobbing, I want people being pathetic, I want emotion, I want it all. So, if that's what you were hoping to see for lesson 40, I hope this can ease some of that anger we had.

Spoilers ahead for Nightbringer since this is quite literally my "remaking" of the ending, which includes in-game references to later lessons!

TW: Blood mention, injury, angst.

Word Count: 4,391

Tears pricked your eyes as you looked upon the several smiling faces of the demons you had come to care for. At the beginning, all you could think of was returning to your home, your time-line, your brothers. You had coped thus far by constantly reminding yourself that these were not the same people you had come to know. But now… after delving into their souls, reforging the pacts, fleeing down the different circles of hell to save one only to nearly lose them all… they’d found their way into your heart once more. How could you? How could you leave them so easily? And tell them to their faces that you’d meet again soon when you knew it was a lie. It might be soon for you, but it would be nearly an eternity for them. Not to mention that the way Solomon and Barbatos described it, this was almost like another universe… Would another version of you show up for them? Or would you leave these particular brothers for good?…

Feet frozen in sorrow and anxiousness, you could only look at them and cry. What were you feeling in this very second, now that you were on the cusp of what you had worked so hard for? The way back home was right above you, the air and magic inches away from sucking you up into it’s mystical vacuum. Your precious family, your home was one step away. So why did it also feel like your heart was being torn from you? “I—“ Your words choked up in your throat. You were tempted to tell them everything right there and then, spill the burden you had been carrying on your shoulder this entire time.

“It’ll be alright,” Lucifer spoke up, seeing your worry, but exuding nothing but confidence himself. “I gave you my blessing after all.”

“Plus, with the Great Mammon’s pact, you’re hella lucky! You’ll get home with no problems, I’d bet on it! S-So you better not make me lose, got it? Get home safe…and happy.”

Levi shook his head a little. “You’d bet on anything wouldn’t you…” But then he turned his head back towards you, nearly just as bold as Lucifer in this one moment. “If someone like me can have courage, you can too. Don’t worry! You’re just like a Main Character! You have indestructible plot armor!”

“Did everyone already forget the white dragon I helped summon?” Satan scoffed. “Their safety and success is guaranteed. So don’t give us that face,” he addressed you.

“Besides!” Asmo perked up. “If anything happened we’d all come rushing to save you! Just like we did for Lucifer. If we can do that, we can do anything! Oo, I just said something real dashing just now! You better take that to heart, hun!”

Beel nodded several times. “You have Luke’s wish egg too. I also made wishes over my eggs at breakfast this morning. I wished for you to always feel healthy and full and loved. And that we’d get to see each other again soon.”

“Those eggs might’ve tasted magical Beel, but they weren’t really…” Belphie looked up his twin as he shook his head, but then he shrugged, coming to the conclusion that it wasn’t worth explaining. “Hey,” he stared at you. “Don’t waste your energy crying now. You’ll need all your strength for your journey. I won’t forgive you if you leave too sad.”

All their words ended up making you laugh, the smile across your face twitching as you worked to force out trembling words. “You all better be kind to one another.” Someone behind you was tugging on your arm. “And make sure you don’t tease Luke too hard.”

“Come on,” Solomon whispered softly to you, tugging you a little harder, making you take a few steps back. The rift in space-time started to roar, attempting to drown out your voice as you struggled for these last few seconds.

“And make sure you all remember to eat and sleep properly. A-and, tell the others at the ceremony that I love them. I… love you all so much.”

“We have to go…” Solomon’s voice sounded tense, like he was nearly ready to cry himself, only keeping himself strong for you. Wrapping an arm around your waist, he nearly hoisted you back himself. Before you left, you reached into the pocket of your pants, fishing out the letter that you had written alone in your old room, what seemed like forever ago now, the one still stained with old tears. You tossed it to the ground in front of you, hoping they would read it, hoping it would help…them live without you.

The last thing you heard was a chorus of cracking voices, getting cut off before they could tell you they loved you too…

And then you were gone. A harsh and forceful wind seemed to suck all the air from your breath. It was almost as if you were being plunged underwater, several forces of pressure from the thousands of years you were swirling past was threatening to crush you. The only sensation you were aware of was Solomon’s. His arms were holding onto you tightly, continuing to mutter spells over and over and over again to keep you safe, expending all of his waining power to push you both through the folds of reality and out on the other side.

Gravity. Disorientation. Falling. A heavy weight slammed against your chest so hard, you wondered if your ribs cracked. The back of your head hit something firm. Everything went black for a while.

After who knows how long, your eyes opened again, staring straight up into the Devildom sky, the shifted stars more familiar to you. Your head was splitting with pain, your breath a wheeze as you glanced down to see Solomon’s limp body keeping you pinned against the ground.

“S-Solomon?” It took a short while for the panic to settle in. “Solomon!” After a moment of struggling, you managed to get him off of you, setting him on his back in the grassy plane you had been spat back out onto. His face looked drained. A chant left the base of your throat, using the last scrap of magic you had to give him a spell to reinvigorate his body. His eyes shot open, coughing as he rolled over onto his side, pushing himself up onto his arms before he fell down again. “Take it easy!” Together, using each other as support, you both got back up to your feet.

“I’m sorry…I had meant to deliver us right in front of the House of Lamentation, but…”

“You did alright,” you assured him, rubbing his back to keep his dizzy mind conscious. “A bit of a rough landing, but we’re alive…” But then, the better question was… “Are we—“

“There you are.” A calm voice manifested itself as a demon in front of you. Barbatos stepped out of a portal, his expression nearly as neutral as ever, except there was something in his eyes that was shining, a strange tremor to his hand that was completely unnatural for someone as him. Then he frowned as he took in the state of both of you, his nostrils flaring as he took the both of you with him, each with one gloved hand. You were pulled into a much less chaotic rift this time. Although the jolt was still enough to nearly cause both you and the sorcerer to fall back to your knees. Before that could happen though, you were shoved into a bed.

The guest rooms of the castle appeared the same as always, but something in particular felt nostalgic, like you’d just returned to a childhood home. Solomon appeared to be ushered into a bed right by your side, both your minds too rattled to resist, as the butler threw open the guest room door from the inside and summoned nearly every Little D in the entire building. “I need human medication, bandages, two sets of pajamas, the herbal tea I set aside in the kitchen. I need the oven preheated, the counter prepared, two trays set, and need them all done within the next two minutes.” There was a very subtle raise to his voice, the seriousness of his tone sending a chill down your spine and sending every Little D scattering for their lives. Barbatos spent one second observing them flee before he dissipated once more, getting wisked away through another portal of his own making.

This all felt…so surreal. Perhaps it was the pain that you were in that was making it feel like a dream. Like you’d wake up in Cocytus Hall and be right back at square one. And yet, something in you was missing that place… that house that you had just started to get used to. The furniture and things both you and Solomon had bought to make it your shared home. But your real home was here. Well, hopefully here.

You wouldn’t get your hopes up over anything yet. Not until you got to see them.

Barbatos returned before you could even begin to ask Solomon about any of this. A whirl of varying shades of green caused your vision to do somersaults as you were quickly fretted over. Salves and bandages were wrapped around your torso and a damp cloth gently touched the back of your head. That splitting pain resurfaced, joining forces with an added stinging. Maybe it was your body going into shock, but you could’ve sworn you heard a shaky shush coming from your current caretaker as you were cleaned and patched up quickly. Luckily, it wasn’t too much longer after that till the aches went mostly away, your head clearing up again as a set of your own pajamas were settled at the foot of the bed, a silver tray stretched over your lap and propped up on two stands. A small plate with a single pastry sat in front of you, along with a bitter smelling dark-green tea that you could tell you’d rather avoid imbibing.

Swiveling your head to the side, you saw Solomon leaning back against the headrest and a few pillows, a bit more vibrancy in his eyes, although those intense dark circles were hard to miss. He was okay. Thank…everything.

“Eat. Drink. Both of you.” The butler stood between the beds, realizing he’d spoken quite against his normal demeanor, he cleared his throat, his palm pressed between his collarbones. “Phoenix’s Breath Tea. You’ll both need it to recover. I apologize for making you both consume something so distasteful, but I’ve found it goes down a bit smoother paired with something sweet.”

A single whiff of the hot beverage in your hand was enough to make you cough, some sense burning in your nose. You settled the cup back down, taking a deep breath, trying to get your head on straight. “Barbatos… Are we…?”

The butler’s eyelids fluttered slowly. “You are,” he stated, his voice quiet, almost in awe. “You’re home. Back in the world you belong.”

A lump immediately formed in your throat, pushing the tray forward and turning to get out of bed. “I need to go. I need to see them, I—“ Before you could get one foot touching the ground, you were wrangled back into bed.

“I’ll fetch them. I swear you won’t have to wait too much longer. But you must drink the tea and you must take a moment to recover. If the others were to know the state you both were in right now, the castle would be torn—“

A banging sound ripped through the room like a gunshot. The guest room door was busted completely off it’s hinges, the wood of the frame splintering, the door soaring across to the left and fully embedding itself into the wall like a dart stuck in a board. If it weren’t for Barbatos’ inhuman skills, you’ve spilled the tea and dessert all over yourself. The royal attendant audibly sighed, sweeping himself to his feet and holding his arms out, his demon form manifesting, wrestling back a writhing and screaming black mass.

Your eyes went wide.

The mass stopped fighting, going rigid, stepping back to form seven different individuals. Three more non-hostile forms stood back in the wrecked doorway, two white, one red.

The bottom of your lip trembled as an overwhelming surge of joy and despair and relief and guilt all flooded out of you in tears. Your fears were pushed away. Your soul seemed to click back into place, like you’d been the last puzzle piece just waiting to finish the picture. “I’m home…”

Chaos erupted in the castle guest room. A few cracking wails nearly burst your eardrums. Asmo’s arms were the first to wrap around you, mascara running down his cheeks in large inky trails, but he didn’t seemed concerned in the least. Kisses lined your face with each sharp intake of breath, too shaken to even speak, he could only address you in his cries as he clutched onto you, trembling. His hand stroked your head, his breathing stopping for a moment when he saw the damage the landing had caused. This only caused him to whimper and cry harder, his thumb running over the outline of your features, running the back of his fingernails over your cheeks.

Levi was stuttering incomprehensibly. As he fell to his knees, he clutched at his head, going through an entire panic attack. He clawed at his chest, tearing gashes into the front of his clothes, looking up at you behind large welling tears as his tail wrapped around his entire torso. Mist filled the entire room as he continued to shake and cry so fervently he couldn’t even stand.

Luke was quite a ways away, holding onto Simeon’s clothing as he screeched out painful genuine child-like cries. The Angel curled over him, shushing him, getting to his own knees to hold the fledgling to his chest, assuring both the little angel and himself that you were okay. You were alright. Miracles had brought you together again. They didn’t have to worry any longer. The sleepless nights, the endless nightmares, the never-ending cold grip of sorrow could go away. He spoke this mantra- this prayer- over and over again, taking deep breaths between the words, blinking rapidly as he had to sway him and his charge back and forth to keep themselves both at ease. The older angel took the occasional glance over Luke’s shoulder, muttering a thankful blessing on repeat every-time he locked with your eyes.

Satan was thrashing around the room, screaming wildly, out of control, ready to beat Barbatos and Solomon for making you arrive in this condition, for not bringing you sooner, for not telling them sooner, for— Eventually, after getting thrown around the room a little, he ran out of things to be angry for. All it took was one look at your face to calm him down. He approached carefully, angry at himself, angry at whoever it was that took you away, but trying to keep himself together. Satan gingerly pulled Asmo off of you, turning Lust over to Solomon. Clearly, he’d been worried about his other pact-mate, hugging the sorcerer and crying a little more softly into his shoulder. Meanwhile, Satan reached a hand out hesitantly, like you were a feral cat he was trying to pet, worried you’d run away. His hand brushed through your hair and settled at the side of your face. Once he realized you weren’t going anywhere, his arms pulled you to him, pressing your face against his shoulder. “You’re here. You’re here again. You’re—“ His voice went hoarse, like he was losing it, like he’d been doing nothing but screaming for the entirely of your absence. Soon his words were nothing but faded squeaks, trying to portray his words but unable to. He simply held you instead. Then he tore himself away from you, heading over to the back wall and punching holes into the structure till his knuckles turned bloody.

Someone crawled onto the bed. Belphegor peered at you with an almost blank expression. His hand reached out, touching your knee, flinching as soon as he made contact, like the very act of him doing so would hurt you further. You could tell that maybe he felt like some of this was his fault, like he’d deserved the pain of having you be sent away from him, like if he did anything wrong again, you’d vanish for real this time, How many times could you come back from the dead? How close was he to losing you entirely? For good? As soon as his warmth mixed with yours, he collapsed on the mattress, curling up at your feet. He gathered the blanket towards his face, the end of his tail twitching erratically. His sobs were silent but violent, the entire bed shifting and bouncing as his body convulsed, his chest pounding as he broke down. Every once and a while, he would become extremely frightened, needing to gasp and look up to ensure you were real. You weren’t a dream. He pinched himself, shook his head, even almost bit at his hands to snap him out of this vision. But you were really here. He would curl back up and continue to cry.

White hair bobbed in front of your vision, two hands going to your shoulders and shaking you, pinning you against the headboard, fingernails careful not to dig themselves into your skin as they gripped your body. “What the hell is wrong with you?! Huh? Huh?! Do you have any idea what you put us through?! What you put me through?!” Mammon growls and screams shocked you.

“Mammon.” Lucifer’s voice settled as a stern warning, but something about it seemed weaker than usual.

Greed ignored him, continuing his rant. “You were just gone. Gone! You know that?!” He shook you again, careful not to rattle you too much. “And what am I supposed to do about that, huh?! What did I say?! I said—“ His voice cracked, trails of moisture streaming from his eyes and over his lips. “I said,” he repeated, “if you’re ever in trouble, you have to let me save you. What part of that didn’t you understand?! How dare you get taken somewhere where I can’t reach you?! How dare you?! How dare you?!” His voice continued to raise in pitch, sounding more and more unstable with each accusing question. Then he slumped, his forehead pressing against your chest as his hands held onto your shoulders tighter, almost bruising them, fearful of letting you go. He began shaking you a few times more, each shake meeker than the last. “How dare you. How dare you… How… W- What was I supposed to do if you didn’t come back?… The world is nothin’… I’m nothin’…”

Beel came over and helped his older brother to his feet, allowing him to sit on the side of your bed as Mammon furiously used the back of his wrist to rub at his cheeks. Gluttony stood over you, looking down with a wide close-lipped smile. “Welcome back.” He leaned down, pressing his cheek against yours as his large arms wrapped around the back of your neck. He took in the scent of you, burying his face into the crook of your neck for a moment. His body didn’t shutter, didn’t make noise, but you felt a few warm tears of his drip onto your skin. He silently and secretly teared up for just a few moments before he stood back up straight, gesturing to the tray with your items on it. “Eat, please. It’ll make you feel better.” The sixth-born took a few steps back to let you breathe, and as he moved back, someone else moved forward.

Lucifer stood at your bedside for quite some time in silence, looking down on you with a rather unreadable expression. He had a frown, eyes squinting like he was upset at you. He scanned you over, his brows furrowing, his jaw clenching. He refused to move, refused to say anything, refused to look you directly in the eyes. You moved forward a little, grabbing his hand, holding it in yours. All the sudden, the tension released. His eyes widened before his eyelids lowered, glancing at you past the vulnerable shimmer past his irises. Wrinkles of stress deepened in his forehead as his whole face contorted in agony. He held your hand tightly, bringing the back of it up to his lips. After that, he pulled you against him, his forehead pressed up against yours, his wings in his demon form acting as some sort of visual blocker, as if he couldn’t stand to have the rest of the room see how he was acting right now. He rubbed his face against yours back and forth, one small touch away from cooing, his hands caressing the sides of your neck, feeling your pulse, hearing your breath, taking in every detail and confirming to himself that you were indeed in his arms again, alive and mostly well. “You’ve come back to us,” he whispered, the end of his nose touching yours as one of his hands cradled the back of your neck. “Back to me.” His breath was hot as he panted for a moment, taking a deep breath and speaking in a hushed tone. “I had nearly begun to entertain the thought that…”

You pulled him closer to you, letting his head rest on your chest as you reached around to his back, grasping the cloth of his clothes in your hands. “You know I would fight through all the layers of hell to get to you.”

That seemed to resonate with him, but you weren’t quite sure he remembered that you were speaking quite literally. All those adventures…the things you’d all learned. How lost were they?…

However, Lucifer simply smiled, laughing a little, squeezing you before laughing again. “Yes, if anyone would do such a thing, it would be you. I shouldn’t have doubted you.” He straighted, fixed his clothing, lowered his wings, and moved further back into the room, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger as he paced towards a back corner.

Levi had finally soothed himself enough to move, walking on his knees towards the bed. His hands were fidgeting with every part of his outfit. Eyes puffy from crying, throat raw from his collapse earlier, he kept himself from speaking. You managed to smile down at him and wipe away the last few of his tears. His lips shook again before he lowered his head into your lap. Face-down in the fabric of the blanket, he kept shaking his head. He didn’t stop until your fingers ran through his hair. With a forced gulp, he eventually vocalized words. “I missed you… I was- was- was so scared I would…”

“Lose you.” Belphie sat up in bed, ignoring the fact that his face was now a mess. He scooted closer towards your side on the bed. “We thought we lost you.”

The youngest was able to say what none of the others could. Full silence washed over the room as the reality of the situation fully seemed to hit them, their shock slowly starting to fade.

Diavolo strode in, everyone moving out of the way to allow him to have his own time with you. The corners of his eyes crunched in happiness. His tight and broad shoulders sagged. Both of his large hands scooped up one of yours, bringing your touch to the side of his face. He closed his eyes, almost appearing as if he might purr any second. As he opened his sight back at you, a fire of positivity and excitement lit within him. “A party! We must throw a party! A welcome home celebration! This is…this is… a joyous day.”

At first, the others seemed confused. Then, one-by-one, small determined smiles spread across their faces. The sorrow melted and gave way to pure uncontrollable elation. People hugged each other, danced around the room, cheered, bounced, came back to kiss you, came back to hug you, nearly passing you around the room till Barbatos barged back in and took your hand, bringing you back to bed.

For a while, you assumed he would shut the idea down entirely. But then, the butler grinned. “I figured you would all say as much. Some preparations are already being made. In the meantime, we should let these two rest. They’ve had all too much excitement today.” Barbatos pulled the blanket back over your legs, readjusting the tray and giving you a biting glare that told you you wouldn’t be able to get out of drinking that god-forsaken tea. “But after that, we will celebrate. We will take every day and night to cherish you, and make up for the time we lost.”

Most of the brothers tried clinging to you, demanding they get to stay, but Diavolo, Barbatos, Lucifer, and Simeon managed to corral the desperate demons and one small angel out of the room.

But before they all left, you shouted. “Wait!” They all turned, worried that something was wrong. However, you smiled, happy tears running down your face this time. “I love you all. So very much.”

“I cherish you with every fibre of my being.”

“There ain’t nothing more priceless than you.”

“E-Everything is so much more fun with you here with m-m- us…”

“I…don’t want to even try to imagine a world without you in it.”

“Nothing, and I mean nothing, hun, is as charming as you.”

“Our family isn’t complete without you in it.”

“You belong with us. End of story.”

“You are one of the most precious beings the three realms has ever known.”

“I find myself discovering new things to enjoy every moment I spend with you.”

“Listen, you are a shining beacon in the night. Know how special you are.”

“You teach me so much! If it weren’t for you, I might still be scare— I mean, dislike demons!”

“My dear apprentice… We couldn’t have gotten home without you. You deserve the world. I will stick by you no matter where you go. And you deserve to know—“

“How much we love you too.”

[alexxncl]

‼️NIGHTBRINGER DAILY CHAT SPOILERS‼️

masterlist | brothers chats | dateables/side characters chats

HELP HE'S NOT FUNNY 😭 asshole big brother lucifer is my favorite kind of lucifer i fear

also how frustrating would it be to have your fingers forcibly got to "th" every time you try and type "s" ??? i'd have to kms actually

[neiveel3llson]

While hosting a game show to boost the brothers' popularity

NB MC: "-and you'll have to answer twice," *looks at Mammon with. smirk* ", easy for you Virgos."

NB Mammon: "How did they know I was a Virgo..."

*Fanfare begins*

NB Mammon: "HOW DID THEY KNOW I WAS A VIRGO I DID NOT TELL THEM MY BIRTHDA-"

[three-realms-archive]

Just a Study

Content Warning: Spoilers for Lesson 40 of Nightbringer! Everything above the cut is spoiler-free!

The wise sorcerer watches his dear apprentice sleep peacefully, unaware of their close friend and mentor doing what he does best. Studying.

His eyes analyse the rise and fall of their chest, tracing his gaze over and across the parabolas that make up the shape of their sleeping form. The small chuckles that escape him when you snore and snort are sounds that you will never get to hear. The soft, unprecedented flushes of crimson across his cheeks when you nuzzle your forehead deeper into the crook of his neck is a sight you will never get to see. Yet your sounds, sights and touch… Solomon knows all of it. He knows the mean, median and mode of the number of hours you sleep at night; and he spends the midnight hours flipping through tomes dedicated to understanding love. To Solomon, this was all a study, really.

A study on how it would have been, if he had taken the time to know his fellow, human classmate from the get-go. How it would have been if he had taken you under his wing sooner - if he had won the race for your heart against the Seven Avatars of Sin. The data was there, in the form of the pact marks etched into your skin - placed there like perfect puzzle pieces. And no matter how much his brain wanted to process that data differently, the results and conclusion would remain unchanged.

To conduct a study, one must try to match the conditions of the experiment to the assumptions of the theory. Solomon knew this, and so he had strived to make Coctyus Hall your new House of Lamentation. He had lived with you - had eaten with you - had even slept beside you. He knew that you (more often that he liked) had shared a bed with each of the brothers before - so he had done that, too. He had taken your trip to the past as an opportunity to replicate the theory with ease, piecing together a domestic life with you that felt like bliss.

The perfect study.

It was meant to be the perfect study. For him and you.

So why?

Why did it hurt so bad, returning to the original timeline; and seeing how… easily, you fell back into your own life?

Why did it hurt, seeing you live, eat and sometimes even sleep alongside the brothers again?

Why did it hurt, sleeping beside you in your old room, when he had already shared a bed with you many times now? It hurt being with you, in this bed made for one, the pillows and blankets and your shifting form taking up room and pushing him out. Telling him that he didn’t belong next to you.

… The wise sorcerer watches his dear apprentice sleep; studying. He presses his lips gently to your temple and savours the familiar warmth that greets him, fondly. He selfishly, childishly, hooks an arm and a leg around you; entangling himself in you as you had done many times before with him. He easily finds your hand through touch alone under a blanket colder than the one you used to share; struggling to intertwine his fingers with yours properly. But he grips your hand like a lifeline when he manages to. He’s got the lines of your palm and the creases of the skin of your wrists memorised. With a small, shaky breath, Solomon uses his thumb to trace over them again, and again, and again. Studying.

It was just a study, right? A ‘what if’.

Just a study, with a simple title.

What if, for a while, he pretended you loved him?

A study compares the theoretical with the experimental. Compares the ideal with harsh, painful, hurtful reality.

You belonged with the brothers. They were your ideal.

… And his brief, domestic, blissful experiment with you was now over.

(i had started writing this before seeing that angest was ruling the poll, lol. but yayyyyyy i wanna start writing angst and romance with the characters i haven’t touched on yet, so have an angst solomon, set after lesson 40 of nightbringer)

[jackalopesao3]

Between the little d’s, Diavolo, and Solomon, Barb really is the world’s most tired mother. At least he doesn’t have to worry about Luke as much!

[javertthejollypastrychef]

“I’m gonna be so busy fucking MC that I’ll forget you guys exist. Don’t call.”

[denpa-dere]

so OG timeline!Solomon follows MC into the NB timeline, which means there's an NB native Solomon who is presumably just kicking around in the human world during the events of the game.

which means some time after MC and OG!Solomon return to their timeline, NB!Solomon will inevitably visit the Devildom, at which point the brothers will ask how MC is doing.

And Solomon will say, "Who's MC?"

[daytaker]

Solomon simps so hard for the main character it's actually a little tragic.

Nightbringer spoilers ahead.

Solomon: MC! Don't worry! I'm on my way to you, journeying through time and space to help bring you home! MC: Oh, hey Sol. Look at my boys, aren't they adorable? They're so new to being demons, I'm even going to babysit them! Don't rush with that 'getting me back home' project if you aren't in the mood. I'm gonna re-establish deep emotional connections with them all in the meantime. Solomon: Haha, yeah... I just hope I can be someone you can come home to. MC: Right.... Anyway, I'm off to the House of Lamentation to start my Mammon arc.

-----

Belphie: Wait, MC's a human? I hate those things. Lemme kill it. Solomon: Solomon ex machina! I'm here to save the day! I might be smiling, but I am livid! It looks like you guys need some time to cool off too, so I'm just gonna take MC here and remove us both from time and space.

WHOOSH!

MC: My boys... :( Solomon: Don't worry, MC. Human solidarity! Right? Human solidarity? Promise. Human solidarity. Swear it. MC: Oops, I can't promise in the magic knowledge grotto, hahaha. Lucifer: Hello there. I'm going to kill you. MC: No you're not. Here's a grimoire as a token of good faith. I promise I'll take care of you guys forever. Magic Knowledge Grotto: No promises here, human scum. Perish.

----

Lucifer: They're in a coma? I feel a little bad actually. Solomon: As you should. Mammon: What are we supposed to do now? Solomon: Let them recover in your guest room. I think that will help.

----

Okay but listen. There's something so heartbreaking about Solomon telling the brothers to have you stay in the guest room after the incident in Thirteen's cave. He clearly does this because he knows how much that environment will help you. I wouldn't think Solomon really loved MC in a genuine way if it wasn't for that act of altruism. Jealousy be damned, you need your boys, so off you go. He sacrifices his chance to be the person you literally go home to because he wants what's best for you.

So this was supposed to be purely me laughing at MC's habit of disregarding Solomon in favor of the brothers but now I'm kind of sad.

(Solomon wanting to be "someone you can come home to" appears in his birthday call on NB; not sure if it also appears elsewhere in the game.)

[r0t-t1ngxeyy]

They're having a father son moment ^^

[clumsydolly]

Rending of the Morningstar

The Fall - Pride's perspective

The Fall from grace after the Celestial war.

Warnings⚠️: Kinda angsty! A tiny bit gorey with mentions of blood! A tiny bit of body horror nothing too much though! Probably spelling mistakes.

This took me awhile cause I didn't know how I wanted to do it so I hope everyone likes it!!

The sky split with the echoes of battle, the once-radiant Celestial Realm now drowning in the shadows of war. Blood-divine and unholy alike-stained the clouds, the scent of burning feathers thick in the air.

Lucifer stood amidst the wreckage, his breath ragged, his body broken but unyielding. His brothers had fallen. His sister's body pierced by arrows and limp as she fell along with the rest of them.

The rebellion was lost.

And then came the pain.

Not the sting of Heaven's judgment, nor the wounds left by the blades of his former kin. This pain was deeper, an agony that surged from within, twisting through his very soul like a viper uncoiling from the dark.

Something was wrong.

Lucifer's breath hitched as the first tear split across his back, his entire body seizing as fire erupted beneath his skin. It clawed up his spine, digging into his ribs, gnawing at his very essence as if trying to break free.

No, not trying.

It was succeeding.

A scream tore from his throat, raw and ragged, stopping even the angels in their pursuit. His vision blurred, his fingers grasping at nothing as his body arched against the unseen force tearing him apart. The sound of rending flesh filled the air, followed by the sickening snap of bone-his bone-his wings.

Two of them-ripped away, stolen, claimed by something that had never existed before.

Lucifer gasped, his head snapping back as he felt it move, felt it emerge. His body was not his own anymore. His suffering had taken form, his fury made flesh, his torment given life.

From the wound in his back, he was born.

A shadow darker than the abyss itself peeled away from Lucifer's body like a beast slithering from its dying host. Clawed hands stretched outward, stained with the blood of his own birth. His form was demonic, twisting between beauty and horror, as if the universe itself recoiled at his existence.

Lucifer staggered, his breath shallow, his mind struggling to comprehend what had just happened. And then-he saw him.

The figure knelt in the wreckage, his golden hair damp with sweat, his shoulders rising and falling in unsteady breaths.

Lucifer saw his own face staring back at him.

No-not quite his own. The eyes were different, sharp and unyielding green fury, burning with something raw and unformed. A flicker of recognition passed between them, but there were no answers -only confusion, only shock.

The figure moved first. Slowly, hesitantly, he reached out his fingers brushing against Lucifer's own, searching for something solid, something real to hold onto.

And Lucifer, despite everything, did not pull away.

Then came the voices.

"There!"

Lucifer snapped his head up, eyes narrowing as the glow of angelic spears pierced through the battlefield haze. The enemy was closing in, their faces hard with divine judgment. They had seen his moment of weakness.

The war was already lost, but the slaughter was not yet finished.

Lucifer gritted his teeth, forcing himself to his feet, but his body would not obey. His balance-his very essence-had been shattered, thrown into disarray by the impossible birth of the being at his side.

The angels moved as one, spears raised high.

Lucifer braced for the final blow.

But then-a hand grasped his own.

He turned sharply. The golden-haired figure-his creation, his twin, his son, his brother, his curse-was gripping him tightly, his expression unreadable, but his actions clear.

He clung to Lucifer.

And Lucifer, without thinking, held on just as fiercely.

The spears struck.

.....

But never hit their mark.

The force sent them both backward, the battlefield tilting, the edge of the heavens rushing toward them. For a fleeting moment, they hovered-suspended between two realms, two fates.

Then, together, they fell.

Lucifer did not know what awaited them below, only that the golden-haired figure-the being who should not exist-was falling with him, still clutching his hand as if he feared letting go.

And for reasons he could not understand, Lucifer let him hold on.

He had known this would happen.

From the moment the first blade was raised against him, from the instant Michael had turned to face him with sorrow hidden behind his unwavering resolve, Lucifer had known. It had all led to this.

He knew the moment he went against God.

But knowing did not make it easier.

The wind roared in his ears, a deafening howl that stole even the sound of his own thoughts. The sky above—the sky that had once been his home—grew distant, shrinking into something cold and unreachable. The gates had closed. The light had turned its back.

And they were falling.

Falling.

He had never fallen before. He had always been above, always risen, always ascended. His wings had once carried him higher than any other, had shone brighter than the first dawn. Now they were burning, blackening, unraveling feather by feather as divine wrath remade him into something lesser, something unworthy.

Something damned.

Lucifer did not flinch. He did not cry out. He did not allow himself the weakness of regret. But he felt it. He felt it deep in the hollow of his chest, in the weight pressing down upon him like chains forged from the very laws he had defied.

He did not look back.

Not back at the pearley golden gates.

Instead, he looked ahead—downward, toward the abyss that yawned beneath them, toward the fate he had chosen, the fate that had been forced upon them. Around him, the others fell, his brothers- his true brothers, his only brothers. Their cries were torn away by the wind, their once-radiant forms shifting, warping. The touch of Heaven had been stripped from them, leaving something raw and new in its place.

And then, there was him.

Lucifer turned his head slightly, his red eyes narrowing as he took in the being at his side.

Satan.

(Something he would be named by the demon king himself in just a couple more moments but right now he was nameless.)

His own creation, yet not. A fragment of himself, yet something separate. He had been born not in Heaven, not of light, but of war. Of loss. Of pain. Of fury. Of wrath. He had come into existence not through the will of their Father, but through the sheer force of Lucifer’s grief, his rage, his wrath, his suffering. He was fire given form, fury given breath.

And he hated him.

Lucifer saw it in his eyes—eyes so much like his own, yet filled with a loathing wrath that burned just as fiercely as the flames consuming them. He did not need to ask why. He already knew. Satan did not see him as a savior, as a leader. He saw him as a failure.

Lucifer did not deny it.

Because it was true.

He had fought, and he had lost. He had promised freedom, had spoken of a future where they would no longer be bound by blind obedience. Or at the very least a lighter punishment for his sister that made one immature mistake. He had believed himself invincible, the Morningstar, the one who had shined brightest among them all.

And yet, here they were.

Falling.

Not as victors.

Not as gods.

As exiles.

And she was gone.

Lilith.

Her name burned through him like a brand. He had fought for many things, had spoken of justice, of choice, of freedom—but she had been at the center of it all. His sister. The first to fall. Not by exile, not by choice, but by force.

By slaughter.

He could still hear the sound of the arrow piercing her flesh, still see the way her body crumpled, the way her light faded. He had not caught her in time. He had not saved her.

And now, she was falling, too.

Lucifer's eyes flickered downward, searching through the chaos, through the countless forms plummeting toward the abyss. He saw her—motionless, her body limp, her wings torn apart by the same divine fury that now twisted his own, except her's were still white and bright but covered with blood from battle, her light dulling fast. The arrow being the center piece of her form.

Something inside him cracked.

He had lost her.

No, he had not just lost her. He had failed her. He failed her and his brothers.

His rage ignited, burning through him like an inferno. He clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms as the transformation continued to overtake him.

It was not just his wings that burned. It was his very being.

The light that had once been a part of him—the radiance that had made him Heaven’s brightest star—was stripped away, leaving something darker, something sharper in its place. The heat seared through his veins, reshaping him, warping him, twisting him into what they had already condemned him to be.

His form cracked. His skin scarred and marked. His wings—no longer celestial—shifted into something monstrous, something built not to rise, but to rule below. Horns tore through his skull, curling like a crown of damnation. The remnants of his halo melted into his flesh, carving golden scars across his face. His fingers twitched, his nails elongating into claws.

He was no longer what he had been.

None of them were.

They were changing, all of them. Their celestial forms were no longer their own. Their grace was gone. They were becoming something else.

Demons.

Lucifer did not resist it.

He let it consume him.

Because if Heaven had no place for them, then Hell would.

The abyss rushed toward them, and Lucifer did not fight it. He embraced it.

If Heaven had cast them out, then they would make their own home. If they were no longer angels, then they would become something else. Something greater. Something stronger.

He would not weep for what was lost. He would not mourn the heavens that had abandoned them. He had spent too long looking up. Now, he would look forward.

Lucifer closed his eyes for a brief moment, feeling the weight of what was to come settle upon his shoulders. And then—

He spread his wings wide.

Let them burn.

Let them fall.

Let them rise again, not as what they were—

But as what they would become.

I hope you enjoyed! This took me forever trying to characterizatie them so I hope everyone likes it! 🩷

As always Reblogs are loved and appreciated!

[still-a-morosexual-help]

Incredible how Mammon & Asmo were the first ones ready to throw hands with each other when each of them lost control

Incredible how at the beginning of Nightbringer they seemed two of the closest brothers

Incredible how this will continue to be their relationship throughout

They drag each other to parties and to have fun together but they're also the first in line to sucker punch the other

Asmo tells Mammon to kill himself during a fight but also goes out of his way to support mammon x mc and even tries to explain Mammon's behaviour and get MC to forgive him when he's being a jerk

Mammon constantly steals from Asmo but also publicly talks about how amazing Asmo is and with 0 hesitation gives up a large prize he could win so that Asmo would get it instead

Mammon & Levi and Mammon & Asmo are both peak sibling energy but more specifically,

Mammon & Asmo are peak big sister - little sister energy where they'll share clothes but also frame the other for murder

[obae-me]

Well, I'm ready to watch the Fandom talk about how toxic and horrible Lucifer is, as if this isn't his part where we have to help fix him just the same as all the other brothers. Mammon who got so greedy he broke out in fights and went to claim you, Asmo who literally charmed and controlled his own family and part of the Devildom, Levi who flodded the entire Devildom, and Belphie who planned to fully invest in locking us up and forced his siblings (even Beel) to enter a slothful almost depressed state.

The train scene is not meant to be a romantic happy fun time, it's supposed to make us uncomfortable. Troubles and problems covered up by a smile and showing off is his whole deal! This is his weakness! His struggle with control! He's working so hard to pick things for us/MC and being so overly confident and pompous because the man is panicking! He's sweating, taking any detail and choice into his own hands because he knows if he gives MC free reign that they'll leave him, while giving us the false illusion of choice to keep us complacent.

I'm not defending what he's doing right now because it's very clearly meant to be a shitty and toxic mentality, but I feel like I've not seen anyone hold the other brothers to the same standard as they do with him. (I remember how hot under the collar the fandom got when possessive Mammon took the stage.)

(And isn't that ironic, considering Lucifer is Pride and the Eldest and most of the responsibilities get shoved onto him even in game)

Anyways, this is my small Ted Talk. Luci Lover till I die. Could talk about him for hours. I hope we get to use his Little D to hop into his brain and see how upset he is inside.

[alexxncl]

‼️NIGHTBRINGER LESSON 56 BONUS SPOILERS‼️

masterlist | theories/spoilers | all lessons | season 3 | lesson 55.1 | lesson 55.2 | lesson 56.1 | lesson 57.1 | lesson 57.2

this is an insane lore drop to have 4 lessons before the game ends. like what. WHAT

unless they've talked about this before and i missed/forgot about it. idk how much of an effect it'd have on solomon considering the fact that hes immortal, but he was pretty winded after the teleportation/portal spell, so it had to have done something

but imagine if mc learned the ins and outs of the forbidden arts

considering the fact that their lifespan was already altered when they gave some of their life force to beel in the 1st game (and my hcs on thirteen's reaction/response to that here), how much of their life force would they lose ???

and this only makes me even more curious. if thirteen is worried, how bad is it ???

and notice how she said trembling, not melting away. maybe it makes his immunity/resilience to certain things less effective since he's immortal and (probably) can't die unless he's killed? maybe his ability to use his pacts puts more strain on him? we already know that he gets more winded than mc does whenever they use pact magic. or maybe it's just his old age starting to show more when he's physically active which is why he was so winded once he got to babel. idk. i feel like they should give us more than a few crumbs of lore but given the rather things are going, that won't happen