ephie-om

[ephie-om]

Can i.... uuh.... get some beel .....? Please :3

Anything 4 you brotosynthesis!!

[ephie-om]

Satan portrait🌈

[ephie-om]

Thief [Belphegor/Reader]

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 Notes: Snuggly cuddly belphie yes yes 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 Pronouns: You 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 Request for: @theoreonoob030

・❥・ MASTERLIST ○ REQUEST

↻ Taglist @mammonslittletreasure To be added simply comment!

It was the fifth shirt this week that had gone missing.

At first you'd simply thought you were misplacing things, even after turning your room upside down to look for the missing clothing and being unable to find it, you simply decided it would turn up on its own. It was an inanimate object, after all, where could it go on its own? It wasn't a sock, either, since those were known for vanishing into the abyss.

When two had vanished you'd simply decided not to worry about.

At three you decided you were having terrible luck.

Four was suspicious.

And five was far, far too many.

You'd asked the others at breakfast if they'd had any clothing going missing but they'd all shrugged. Asmo had been sympathetic to your plight, using it as an excuse to claim your time at the weekend for a shopping spree, but that had quickly been cancelled when your boyfriend appeared from nowhere, hugging you tightly from behind and simply said you couldn't as you were going to be busy with him.

Asmo had pouted -- no doubt he'd only occupy your time by napping together, and though you were sure Asmo was correct, you didn't mind. These moments together with Belphie had become some of your favourite. You didn't always sleep with him, sometimes he napped in your lap while you read or did some work, or even watched a movie quietly. He'd wake up every now and then and ask you what had happened, only to quickly fall into a peaceful sleep when listening to your voice. It calmed him, he said, trying not to upset you and let you think he thought you boring or something.

Of course you didn't think that, if anything you thought it would be stranger if he didn't fall asleep so quickly. The only time he'd managed to sit through an entire movie without sleeping had been when you'd first started dating and he said he wanted to work on himself -- only he'd been exhausted and unable to climb the stairs to his room. You'd reassured him time and time again that you knew exactly the type of person he was, that you were well aware of his proclivity for sleeping far longer and much more often than anyone else. It didn't bother you, it was one of his charm points, in fact.

However, at the rate things were going with your clothes vanishing you really were going to have to buy new ones. That would be nearly useless without finding the culprit, though, what if you spent money on a new shirt only for it to vanish soon after?

You briefly thought about asking Satan for help, knowing his enjoyment of detective novels, but found yourself not wanting to get too many others involved, certain the situation would simply devolve into a new level of chaos that Lucifer would ultimately scold everyone for. You could almost picture the scene, and you sighed softly, going to lean back against Belphie's chest only to find he'd already vanished.

Odd.

It wasn't like him to let you go so easily. Usually once he clung to you it was hours before he let go, his grip was always vice like and he'd cuddle you and squeeze you like a soft toy in the grip of a possessive child. Again, something you had gotten accustomed and used to, sure it could be difficult go about your day with the youngest brother attached to you like that, but you'd gotten used to doing everything important you needed to do as soon as you could, just so that you could spend the rest of your time as his favourite pillow.

Grumbling to yourself at his absence you traipsed back to your room, shoulders falling. He'd been acting weird since you got yourself a new perfume at the start of the week. You'd really liked it, and almost everyone else had commented on how perfectly it suited you, but Belphie hadn't mentioned it at all. He'd been absent from you more often than not since.

Perhaps he didn't like it but didn't want to mention it.

No, that wasn't like him; he wasn't often shy about voicing his preferences, wants, or dislikes. It had to be something else.

You bit your lip, freezing as you stood in the door to your room. You couldn't say your room as the most organised, but you distinctly remember not leaving in the state you found it in now -- drawers open, clothing on the floor and all. your bedding entirely taken; even the sheets attached to the mattress were gone.

"Are you kidding me?!" you hissed, clenching your fists at your side.

This was absolutely not something you wanted to deal with, and your first instinct was to question Mammon whether this was some form of prank, but he'd been equally surprised as the others earlier when you mentioned things vanishing, and you just couldn't see him doing this.

Plus he was with the others the entire day.

There were only two who were absent.

Lucifer and Belphegor.

Ruling out Lucifer as the culprit was easy. There was no way he'd steal your belongings or ransack your room like this, in fact you could imagine he'd be quite annoyed if he found out someone had been stealing your things. Getting the eldest involved would certainly get to the heart of the matter quickly, the others were so afraid of him that no one would lie.

But the other option --

What reason would Belphegor have to steal your items, and trash your room?

You sighed deeply. Maybe he was trying to hide that new perfume of yours so you couldn't use it, but it just didn't feel the right explanation. But stealing clothing, stealing pillows and blankets -- it did sort of feel like something you could see him doing. You'd already lost a hoodie of yours to him when he'd been cold one day and had asked you for it, he'd never given it back and you often found him cuddled up in it on the sofa looking like the happiest creature in the entire universe.

But he'd asked then.

You'd been in his room with Beel recently and had seen no trace of your things, but you hadn't checked the attic yet. Before now you'd had no reason to, after all, and begrudgingly, and almost a little concerned, you found yourself climbing the all-too-familiar stairs to the room Belphie had turned into his own little getaway. It was almost strange that the room he'd been imprisoned in had become so comfortable to him, but he spent more time here than anywhere else now.

"Belphie?" you asked, voice gentle, as you slowly pushed the door open.

Instantly you froze.

You weren't sure whether to laugh or not, or what to even think at the sight in front of you -- a pile of random items of your clothing, your bed sheets, blanket, and pillows, all sprawled out into some haphazard pile and in the middle of it all, curled up like a little cat, was Belphegor.

There was a smile on his face so soft, so peaceful, and so beautiful that you found yourself wishing to ingrain this scene into your head for the rest of your life.

And yet --

Quickly laughter spilled from your lips as you stepped in, closing the door behind you. Belphie cracked open an eye, pouting quickly.

"You can't have any of it back," he murmured sleepily, trying to gather the ball of softness up into his arms somehow. "It's mine."

"Actually it's mine," you said softly, crouching beside him. "And I do sort of need it all back, or I'm going to have to sleep without covers or pillows, and walk around naked-"

"No!"

You laughed softly, watching his wide, pleading eyes as he stared up at you.

"Would you care to explain?"

"I-" he paused, biting his lip, a guilty expression falling over his features. "That new perfume," he said, voice strained. "You smell so good in it, it was driving me crazy, I needed to be around you I couldn't think if you weren't there, and when you were-" his voice almost frantic as he reached towards you, gripping your wrist tightly. "When you were there all I wanted to do was lock you away for myself, to hold you forever and ever and never let you go but... it would inconvenience you so I held myself back, but I couldn't rest so... I took a shirt and wore it and it helped, but then I needed more."

"Belphie...."

"And then today when Asmo suggested you two hang out... I...." he bit his lip.

"You could have asked me, I would have exchanged pillows or sheets with you or... we could have slept together at night. I would have changed perfume so it didn't drive you quite... to this level," you said gently, reaching out to caress his cheek, smiling as he nuzzled into your touch. "Plus I really wouldn't have minded cuddling you more than usual. I like it."

"That's -- if you say that...." a troubled expression came over him, before he firmly tugged at your wrist and pulled you into the pile of clothing and sheets with him. You squealed in surprise, but were quickly crushed against his chest, his arms tight around you and legs locked into a position that should have been uncomfortable, but you'd found your bodies fit together so perfectly that these types of things never seemed to matter. "There."

"Warn me next time!" you grumble, letting out a slight huff before you snuggle back against him. You had to admit the bundle of random items was a lot more comfortable than it had looked, warm and cozy, and with a strange mixture of yours and his scents that you suddenly understood why he craved it to this extent. "Sometimes I feel like we should just get you an oversized cat bed to nap in."

"Mmm I considered it, but they're only good for napping for short periods..." he trailed off.

"You tried it, you mean."

Belphies breath washes over your face as he huffs out a laugh, squeezing you tightly.

"You're just... too precious to me," he whispers. "I can't let you go, I can't... let anyone take you from me."

"Hey," you say softly, shifting yourself so you can press your face against his neck and place a soft kiss against his warm skin. "I'm not going anywhere, ever. You hear me?"

"You don't know that...."

"I do know that," you corrected, nipping his neck playfully to get his attention. "Because I have the most amazing demon boyfriend who wouldn't ever let anything bad happen to me."

"I guess I'll have to get rid of him if I want to cuddle you forever, then."

You laugh, noting how his grip releases just a little as his brief anxiety washes away. You know exactly what he's so scared of, but you have no issues reminding him over and over that you're never going to leave him; after all you find yourself just as possessive as him, leaving him, whether it be willingly or not, would free him up for someone else to hold his hand and cuddle him all night, and to you that is absolutely the most unacceptable, undesirable outcome.

[ephie-om]

—Mammon.

[ephie-om]

Pita

[ephie-om]

Guest Beanbag

Levi sits on his beanbag chair, slowly sinking deeper into a nasty, bubbling pit of regret. He was so, so stupid. The thoughts in his mind are making it harder to focus on his rhythm game, and he nearly misses a perfect note. That’s unacceptable, and he knows it. He’s usually so much better on PC with this game; the console controls must be tripping him up. Yeah, that must be it. Definitely not the human watching him from a mere two feet away, and the growing knot in his stomach.

Why had he ever asked you to come to his room? Stupid, stupid Levi. He should’ve known he didn’t have the social skills to make this work. But you had looked kind of small, sitting there alone at the table, doing homework, so he offered you a distraction. That was a normal, social thing to do, wasn’t it?!

He misses a note. Not the perfect note, the whole thing. On pure muscle memory, he pauses the game, quits to the main menu, and starts the level over. Out of his peripheral vision, he sees your eyebrows twitch upward in surprise. 

You’re going to leave soon; he’s sure of it. In fact, he’d be glad if you did, instead of staying out of politeness. You’ve clearly been bored out of your mind since you got here. Letting his fingers run on autopilot, he replays the events of ten minutes ago for about the fiftieth time in his head.

>You bounced into his room, all smiles, made some comment about how you’d never thought he’d let you in here

>You said you liked the colorful lights all over the walls

>You asked if you could look through some of his manga, which he immediately turned down

>You asked if you could take down one of his figures from his shelf, which he immediately turned down

>He panicked and said that you two could sit down in the middle of the room and he could finish his game

>He still hadn’t finished his game

That leads him up to the current moment, where the room is slowly drowning in the world’s most awkward silence. You’re fidgeting with your nails absentmindedly, and the little repetitive click-click-clicks are starting to make him want to throw his controller against the wall. You haven’t tried to start any conversation since he had sat you down, which he’d normally be grateful for, but he’s so used to you saying something that the silence is almost worse. 

You shift around, eyes wandering away from the screen. Is his gameplay not engaging enough? He thought he was pretty good at this game, except for his utter and humiliating failure of a minute ago. That’s definitely it. You saw him mess up and now you think he’s the worst disappointment of a gamer you’ve ever seen in your life. He should kick you out of his room now to try and save face. You’re only here for a year; he can definitely stay in his room for that long. He doesn’t have to show his face around another living soul ever again-

“Pretty comfy beanbag you got,” you say, wiggling your hips deeper into your seat. 

“Wh- uh, yeah! Yeah, I think it’s pretty comfortable, that’s why it’s supposed to be the guest beanbag anyways. Not that I get guests a lot in here, because I don’t like people in my room, except for the ones I invited like you.” He can feel his face turning bright red. Stringing together a coherent sentence has never been a speciality of his.

“Guest beanbag?” you ask incredulously. Oh, he didn’t realize he had said it out loud… you definitely think he’s a loser now.

“Um… yeah. That’s the guest beanbag because this one is mine.” He swallows hard, waiting for you to get up and leave.

“That’s smart of you, Levi!”

“What?”

“It’s smart. That way you don’t have to sacrifice your favorite seat, but you still have a spot for somebody else if you want them here!”

“H-hey, you can’t say that!” he shouts indignantly. He pauses his game and buries his face in his hands. “I’m not smart or something like Satan. It’s just me being selfish about my beanbag, okay?!”

“No, it’s not Satan smart to do that kind of stuff.” His fingers dig into his scalp, starting to feel the tide of envy rise in his mind. “It’s Levi smart. Like, strategical.”

He drops his hands and looks at you, making full eye contact for the first time since you’ve come into his room. You blink back at him, a little surprised, but you don’t look disgusted by him. He stares at your face for a little longer, trying to find any traces of anger or revulsion, but he can’t seem to see any. Your face looks confused, but still happy. Still open. Still looking back at him.

He breaks eye contact suddenly, grabbing at the floor for his controller. He finishes the level with laser focus, trying to shove down all those weird thoughts that roared to life when you called him smart. Once the golden ‘Level Completed!’ graphic splashes across his screen, he wipes his sweaty hands on his pants and tries not to look over at you. Your soft laugh falls across his ears. 

“What’s so funny?” he glances up at you from the corner of his eye.

You shrug noncommittally, looking at the pixelated confetti falling across the TV. “You’ve just got so much going on in there, you know?” you say, motioning vaguely towards his head. He narrows his eyes, not sure if you’re trying to insult him or not. You catch his expression and laugh again. “Not in a mean way, you goof. You’ve got all these plans and strategies for stuff that most people wouldn’t even think about. Like, everything’s a game to you.”

“Yes,” he agrees, still a little suspicious. You cock your head at him curiously, and he takes it as a sign to go on. “It’s all just- it has to be a game. Otherwise I wouldn’t know what to do with other people,” he admits quietly, staring down at his shoes. “That’s stupid, right?”

“No,” you shake your head. “I think that’s pretty normal.”

He snorts incredulously. “Don’t lie.”

“I’m not lying.” You lean forward earnestly. “Everybody’s got a strategy, you’re just more self-aware about it.”

“If I had a strategy, I would know how to talk to people better. I just stumble through it. Just like right now.”

“That’s part of making a strategy, though. Revising it and testing it and revising it over and over again. Maybe you just haven’t found what works yet,” you say softly with a reassuring smile.

He tries to smile back at you and manages a spastic facial twitch, but you seem to get the message. “Are you offering to help me make a plan?” he asks jokingly.

“Yeah!” your eyes light up. “I was kinda hoping you’d ask me that.”

“Wait, what?!”

“We can do exposure therapy stuff! Getting you used to being around people will be way faster if you just go out and do it. We could go to a coffee shop or a restaurant or an arcade. Or we could go to a convention or something and you can talk to the artists there. Ooh! Or we could-”

You finally catch sight of Levi’s wide-eyed expression of primal fear. “I think exposure therapy is supposed to be incremental,” he points out.

“So we could do one thing tomorrow, and then another thing after that, right?” you look at him with hopeful eyes.

Levi blinks at you. “Or maybe we could do one thing tomorrow and then spend the next week recovering from that.”

You throw your head back and laugh. “Yeah, good one! Oh. You’re serious.” Your expression dims, and he can’t help but feel guilty.

“Sorry…” his posture droops like a sad flower.

“It’s okay,” you laugh. “I know I can get kind of overzealous about that stuff. But whatever we do, we’ll have a good time, right?”

Your determination is contagious, and he meets your eyes and nods seriously. “Right. We will have a good time.”

You snort. “That’s the spirit. I’m gonna look up some good restaurants, okay?”

He starts the next level of his game while you tap away on your phone, curled up securely in the guest beanbag. Maybe he should buy another one, since you like that one so much. His strategy assistant is much too important to be relegated to the regular old guest beanbag.

[ephie-om]

OKAY I'd like to make a request 🥹 One of my go-to daydream scenarios is how I'd confess to Levi...as someone who's also awkward, dorky and shy. I'd probably write him a letter, like in the Tokimeki♡Leviathan devilgram, expressing my feelings. I'm big on the whole "we're best friends" aspect of MC's relationship with Levi; I'd want him to know how much I value his friendship, but also can we make it a partnership? Cus I'm a huge simp 🤪 Basically, a nervous MC confesses to Levi via love letter and his response and maybe a shy first kiss agsjshfhf

I don't request very often so if you need clarification lmk lmao

leviachad, it is an honor to write for you. I ended up replaying the Tokimeki♡Leviathan devilgram before I wrote this and I thought the set up was a pretty good reason to make you want to confess, so I rolled with that. Hope that's okay!

Characters: Levi x GN!MC, Solomon makes an appearance MC confesses their feelings to Levi via letter, first kiss Warning: Mild spoilers for Tokimeki♡Leviathan devilgram

With a long sigh, you leaned back in your chair, the front legs lifting ever so slightly. You felt that familiar suspension in your stomach as you balanced precariously on half of the legs designed to support your weight, your neck craned back to stare at the leafy foliage creeping across the guest room ceiling–bizarre decor fitting of the House of Lamentation. If you thought hard enough, you supposed that your very life hovered in your seat, seesawing back and forth between rejection and something more. 

It wasn’t like you hadn’t already figured it out. You had known for some time now, though you hadn’t necessarily planned to, well, do anything about it. You had gotten used to caging the butterflies in your stomach before they could tickle your chest. You had learned to bite the inside of your cheek when the confession threatened to bubble up your throat and burst upon your tongue. You had become accustomed to the metallic tang of blood in your mouth, the words becoming wily, threatening to slip between your teeth before you could stop them.

It wasn’t Leviathan’s fault. It wasn’t his fault that his smile shone brighter than the human world sun, that you could feel the warmth from his grin on the apples of your cheeks. It wasn’t his fault that his eyes sparkled like polished amber, glinting beneath soft strands of indigo hair that danced with each minute movement, begging you to touch. It wasn’t his fault that his hands–so slender and large–zipped across a keyboard with impressive skill, reacting instantaneously to stimuli in any sort of video game, a blur of nails painted orange that you wished to grab and press to your chest. Would he be able to feel the flutter of your heart through the warmth of his palm?

No, it wasn’t his fault that you had fallen for him, and it wasn’t his fault that you had decided you must confess. It was Solomon’s damn game. 

When you had been summoned to Levi’s room, your spirits had dampened the moment you burst through the door to see Solomon’s coy smile lounging in Levi’s desk chair. You had put on a brave face, had smiled through the disappointment that you wouldn’t be able to nerd out with your best friend in the privacy of the dreamy aquatic seascape, had listened intently as Levi explained that Solomon had created a dating simulator set in a human world school. 

The enthusiasm bursting from every pore of Levi’s being had acted as a balm on your cracked heart. When Levi had turned to you, had asked you to test the game with a sincerity that turned your stomach lining all fuzzy, you had shot him your best smile and launched yourself into the sorcerer’s game. As your vision went black–something you had become worryingly accustomed to within the Devildom–you weren’t the least bit afraid, the pressure from Levi’s hand clenched around yours anchoring you in the darkness.

It hadn’t taken long to realize that Solomon’s magic had created an impressive take on the classic high school dating simulator, a nostalgia for younger days creeping into your bones as sunlight illuminated chalkdust floating by the classroom’s blackboard. However, the sensory perfection had been instantly overshadowed by Levi’s distress. Solomon–whether intentionally or not–had crafted a variety of Leviathans as the suitors, the familiar personality tropes clear in clothing, stature, and the general level of confidence pulling at their shoulders.

What should have been something fun and fluffy had turned into an identity rollercoaster for Levi. He had been horrified to see his own image interact with you in a manner so shallow, had been the only one to stand up for you and consider how you really felt, only to be labeled a wimp by his doubles. You had understood the frustration and humiliation that prickled at the corners of his eyes as he ended the gaming session before you could make your choice, as he lied through his teeth that he wasn’t feeling well and wished you a good night. 

You had returned to your room restless and concerned, the gears in your mind spinning a mile a minute. Levi had looked upon the various versions of himself with a mixture of disgust and envy. He had said it himself; why could they say the words he always struggled to say? 

It was then that you realized it was time to tell him, time to bare your heart upon the guillotine of a confession. It hurt that he couldn’t see the doubles as what they were: fragmented pieces of his personality. Sure, Leviathan was far from arrogant regarding most affairs, steeped in self-doubt and unable to trust himself, but whenever he bragged about clearing a new game with a high score, a spark of pride would flash in the indigo veins of his eyes. There were plenty of times when you considered Levi cool, like when he would unwind in his tub, listening to Sucre Frenzy ballads and lofi anime soundtrack remixes. He was one of the best smooth talkers when it came to playing a character, and as for the affectionate one? The best friend trope? Well, he was your best friend…though, maybe a little shy. 

Only as a whole did they make up the real Leviathan, a demon who would be nothing without the kind, considerate side that they deemed wimpy. And really, without that side, you never would have fallen so head over heels for him. He needed a win, and perhaps your admission that you adored all the different aspects of his personality would shine like a gold medal over his heart.

So, there you sat, balancing between past, present, and future, a pen gripped too tightly in your hands and a blank page taunting you from the table. You had thought that writing a letter would be the most articulate way of sharing your feelings, hard sentiment without your traitorous mouth stumbling over words. However, now that the paper begged you to carve your confession into its skin, you were regretting your choice. Where did you even begin? How could you possibly sum up how you felt about Levi on a single page?

You took a deep breath, let your eyes flutter shut, and thought about the first time he had ever messaged you the password to his room without prompting. It had been such a simple text, yet a loaded gesture. It was a subtle way of asking for your company, and you had leapt at the chance to spend some one on one time with the demon whose eyes had looked so sad when your fingers had brushed, the TSL soundtrack exchanged like some sort of shallow business deal. 

Levi had been nervous when you had lingered in the doorway, unsure of where he wanted you to sit, or stand, or…hell, you would even do jumping jacks while he explained the mechanics of his latest game purchase if he so desired. Thankfully, he didn’t share the same sadistic streak as his older brother, and had invited you to sit on the ottoman by his tub as he awkwardly made small talk through a pained grimace. It wasn’t until the silence between you turned comfortable that he glanced at you through his indigo fringe and asked, “So, uh, what did you think about TSL? Like, really think about it?”

And just like that, your friendship had bloomed like an evening primrose in the glow of the Devildom moon. You shared similar interests, exchanging your own realm’s anime, manga, idol groups and games, discussing underrated gems of industry over spicy rainbow pizza and comfort candies. Eventually, beneath the undulating reflection of the aquarium’s waves upon the ceiling, your conversations delved deeper, and you found yourself a scuba diver uncovering treasure within a shipwreck. The pressure pushed harder and harder on your chest, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to swim to the surface. You would follow him to the bottom of the Mariana Trench if he asked you to. 

You smiled to yourself as you finally placed the tip of the pen to the paper, the words flowing with newfound ease. The fear that had stalled your hand washed away, high tide pulling the truth from printed letters as you detailed your feelings. It suddenly became so easy to tell him that he was your sunshine in the eternal night of the Devildom, that you longed to soak up his bright rays, that perhaps this letter would be your wax wings melting in his brilliance, but you couldn’t hold it in any longer. 

When you were finished thanking him for his friendship, his kindness, and of course his time (his voice echoed in your head, “Otakus are very busy, you know!”), you popped the cap back onto the pen and regarded your work. 

Okay, the paper was a little crumpled in the corner. And you had smudged the ink with the side of your hand. 

With a nod and a shaky exhale, you decided that the flaws simply added character. 

Tugging your D.D.D. from your pocket, you swallowed your heart beating frantically in your throat and pulled up your latest conversation with Leviathan–always pinned to the top of your chats.

8:32pm - 🐏henry🐏 Hey! Are you busy right now?

It took you multiple tries to avoid any typos, your fingers trembling, bouncing against the screen with abandon. You debated immediately following up with a “nevermind”, but before you could properly type the word, your device buzzed in response.

8:32pm - 🏹lord of shadow🏹 About to watch Sucre Frenzy’s live stream! Care to join? I’ve got our glowsticks ready!!

Your stomach did a somersault, knotted itself into an ugly little bow as you snatched the letter from the table, nearly knocked your chair to the ground, and booked it out the door. You were positive you made it to Levi’s room in record speed, the stairs taken two at a time and your strides longer than ever before. 

“You made it!” Levi beamed, flinging his door open at the sound of your familiar knock. He ushered you into the calming blue of his room, concern flitting through his pretty eyes as he noted your labored breathing and the sheen of sweat dotting your temples. “Um, are you okay?”

You shook your head frantically as you keeled over, your palms to your knees as you fought to catch your breath. There was no turning back now. Avoiding his worried gaze, you shoved the crumpled paper into his chest, prompting him to yelp in surprise.

“W-what’s this?” He stammered, smoothing the creases with his thumb as he began to read your terrible attempt at neat penmanship.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you focused on the nervous patter of your pulse in your ears, in your fingertips, in your gut and oh gods, were you about to vomit? 

“O-oh!” It was an adorable squeak, slipping past his lips, that had you craning your neck and seeking his expression.

His grip on the paper had tightened, his head ducked with his fringe in his eyes. Though, you could just make out that amber sparkle beneath his soft bangs. You caught the stutter of his chest as he murmured, “Do you… really mean all this?” 

“Of course!” You blurted, finally straightening up, nausea forgotten in your desire to quell the insecurity that rattled his frame. Stepping closer to him, you apologized, “I’m sorry it’s not more…eloquent. It’s hard to put such large feelings into words, you know? And, um, I’m sorry to put you on the spot like this but you seemed so upset about Solomon’s game and I just wanted you to know that you are the best Levi, and–”

“GAH!” He cut you off with a squawk of distress, clutching the letter close as his bottom lip trembled. You could just make out the gleam of moisture rendering his irises bright and glossy. “This is too nice! Too sweet! AH! I feel like I’ve been shot through the heart by an angel!”  

And though the anxiety squeezed your lungs, you managed to laugh. Fixing him with a smile that you hoped was as bright as the warmth from his burning cheeks, you promised, “I really, really mean it. I love you.”

He took a deep breath, his eyes fluttering shut as he blinked away the tears threatening to cloud his vision. His mouth moved around words with no sound, stopped at a vowel, restarted at a consonant. When he finally met your gaze, you found yourself drowning in the emotion pooling in those amber depths. Smoothing the paper against his chest–as if it was something sacred, something that had to be protected–he warbled softly, “I love you, too.”

You weren’t sure what happened then, whether it was fate that acted as a magnet between you, or if, in one of your brave moments, you had made the first move. All you knew was the proximity of Levi’s nose, nudging yours as you felt yourself sink towards the indigo floor of his blazing eyes, and the soft puff of his breath on your skin. 

Your lips met tentatively, a gentle gesture to prove your affection, and it came as no surprise when he stiffened under your touch. You heard his sharp inhale, heard his nervous gulp, but when you expected him to pull away, he did no such thing. No, with the hand free of the letter, he carefully grabbed your waist, the sweat of his palm sticky against the fabric of your shirt, tugging you the slightest bit closer, until a mere inch rested between you. 

His lips slipped from yours for the slightest moment, but before you could speak, he kissed you again, a smile curling the corners of his mouth. It was unrefined, a little crooked, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care, a heat in your chest pushing you to lean into his touch, to savor every beat of his heart thrumming through his veins. 

He rested his forehead against yours, your eyes meeting in unspoken devotion as his fingers played with the fabric of your shirt, as he huffed out a breathy laugh. 

“Um,” he spoke over the synchronized pounding of your hearts. “Can we practice that before we move onto…higher level stuff?”

“Of course,” you giggled, your face warming beneath the adoration in his gaze. “This is just the start of our very own dating sim.” 

*・゜・*:.。.*.。.:*・☆・゜・*:.。.*.。.:*・☆・゜

My requests are open! Find out more HERE.

[ephie-om]

Plot Twist... But not really~

[ephie-om]

You are my strawberry

Original by @veryluckyclovers

[ephie-om]

🐝 beelzebub 🐝

[ephie-om]

Pspspsps, who likes holo shiny things?

[ephie-om]

I still think about her every day. My favorite. Her pose her expression her clothes. Wow. She's radiant. Wow... her beauty is unmatched... 📸 wait... her loveliness... wait... Wow

[ephie-om]

You can't convince me this didn't happen at least once (Tell me, how would your MC react to this?)

[ephie-om]

he reminds me of a sad kitty sometimes

[ephie-om]

Punk Rock Barbatos

[ephie-om]

I'll give you five grimm for some mephisto <3

good god was it hard to find screenshots where he doesn't just exclusively complain about his beloathed lucifer

[ephie-om]

WAKE UP SHEEPLE!!!!! SOLOMON BELONGS IN A DRESS!!!!! LOOK AT MY WIFE OH MY GOD

thank u achan for the ref 🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡

i lost my mind while making this