Tumgik
halseyhatter · 4 days
Text
"Where's Mummy?"
A oneshot fluff, entirely headcanon based, featuring all 3 of the LNDS men being a father. Requested by a lovely follower of mine. Hope this is an enjoyable read for you all. The names of the kids are based on my take, but if you want to include names of kids you had thought of with your husbandos, you may slot that in on your own will!
Want some angst? Go with this series of mine, tears guaranteed: Damnation
Warnings: Fluff as per usual however, there shall be suggestive themes for this, soooo let you imagination run free :)
Tumblr media
RAFAYEL - FATHER TO A GIRL
Tumblr media
"I'll be fine. Stop worrying would you?" Rafayel groaned with a smile. "Our daughter will be alright." He walked beside you, accompanying you towards the front door. "I am more worried about you with your work instead. So take care of yourself, please? For our sake?"
His concern made you rolled your eyes playfully, leaning in to give him a long kiss. "I will be home by evening, I promise." Your eyes stared into those mauve purple eyes of your husband's, only to have him yank you back into his arms and pressing his lips to yours again. Provocating you into a minor makeout session. Breaths becoming heavier by every passing minute.
You bit your lip the moment he pulled away, reminiscing the feeling of his soft and tender lips against yours. "Don't want you to be late, unless you want to call in sick for the day, hmm?" He winked, a hint dropped for you to decipher. "You know I can't Rafayel." Your answer made the man pout, arms crossed, but eventually surrendering to the reality of your situation. He press a small kiss against your cheek and sent you off on your way. He stood at the entryway, watching you get onto your bike and rode it out of the front yard and onto the empty streets.
Heading back in, he sat at his usual thinking corner, eyeing the piece of artwork he had yet to finish. Thomas was expecting this piece to be done by two days ago. But an artist's work should not be rushed, Rafayel being an advocate for quality over quantity. He sighed, walking over to pick up his palette stained with an array of colours, before sitting himself in front of the artwork and continued working on his piece.
Hours had passed since then, the strokes of the painter finally stopped when his artwork is finished. He grabbed his phone off of the coffee table and called Thomas. "Rafayel, where the hell is the piece of---"
"It's done, you can come and collect it tonight once it is all dried up." Rafayel spoke, then Thomas started to inform him about the upcoming interviews that he has to attend, one for the local magazine, one for an exhibition taking place abroad... Pitters and patters of feet across the marble floor made Rafayel lost his focus. He turned around to find his daughter, Mariela awake. "Daddy duty calls."
The phone call ended abruptly, with Thomas ending his note on 'There was also an artwork you have to---' Call ended. Ever since Rafayel had taken on his duties as a father, he made sure his works are delayed long enough just so he could spend time with his own family. Recently, you had been called on for many more missions as there has been a shortage of deepspace hunters.
Rafayel and you had discussed about the delegating responsibilities while being parents to a newborn. Rafayel insisted that you should quit your job so that you could stay at home with him and with Mariela. Money not being any concern to your family to begin with. But you could not, you could not abandon your duties as a deepspace hunter, especially when there are not a lot of new recruits coming in.
So you both settled on a solution that meets both ends. Rafayel would delay his paintings and take care of Mariela if you happen to not be at home, but your sacrifice would be to not work past evening times. Him not wanting you to overexert yourself and still being able to spend time with you as a family. The miniature version of you and Rafayel clumsily walked over to him. Small and chubby hands rubbing her cheeks in circles.
"Good morning my little fishie." Rafayel knelt down and gave her a hug, a usual greeting for morning and night. "How was your sleep?"
"Good." She replied, arms curled around her father's neck as he carried her up in his arms. "Where is mummy?"
"Mummy has to work so today, you will hang out with daddy, yeah?" Rafayel sat her at her baby chair by the dining table. He took a plate of ready-made mini pancakes and poured a cup of warm milk into a cup. "Mummy even made you your favourite breakfast." The idea of having his kid eating such sugary stuffs in the morning is unfavoured. But since y/n had woken up extra early today to prepare the breakfast for her daughter, Rafayel will let it slide for this once. but we all know he too soft of a father to reject that if it ever happens again
Watching his child dig into the pancakes, Rafayel started allowing his mind to wander. Mariela's name came about while his wife was pregnant, and you had both agreed on wanting your child to have names related to the sea to remind the child's origins of being half-Lemurian. Rafayel was thrilled to have their names being related to the waters he used to live in and so the naming process is entirely within his control. Both of you settled on Mariela eventually, the name a direct representation of the star of the sea.
...
When y/n rode past the main gates and towards the yard, you found you husband, with your daughter standing next to him, waiting for you at the front of the door. Mariela the size of a toadstool next to her 6' tall father. But her big, doe-like eyes took the shade of Rafayel's, a mirror of his lilac-blue mixture. "Hey there!" You greeted excitedly, quickly pushing yourself off of your motorbike and rushed over to hug your daughter tightly in your arms.
"Mummy!" The brunette toddler giggled, arms wrapped around her mother and head tucked into your neck. The hug between the two was interrupted with Rafayel hugging both of them. Three of them within a circle of a hug. "Hi, mummy. I missed you."
"I missed you too, so so much." A big kiss was given to the toddler's cheek and they all walked further into the house. "What did you do with daddy today?"
"Daddy taught me how to draw fish and he taught me Wewuma." She spoke, a wide grin evident on her cherubic cheeks. This made y/n confused and you turned to look for Rafayel for an explanation but sees him being on the phone. Assuming it is Thomas on the other end of the line.
"That's good darling." You held her close to you, legs directing towards her bedroom. "But I think it is nap time for you okay? Mummy and daddy will make dinner and then later we are going to have pasta!" Mariela's eyes lit up at the word 'pasta', for she is a huge lover of carbs just like you. No doubt you two are of the same bloodline.
Once you had laid your daughter to nap, you started prepping the ingredients in the huge kitchen. Rafayel came by your side and hugged you from behind, breathing in your scent deeply. "I missed you wifey." He mumbled into the crooks of your neck and drew circles on the side of your hips.
"What is wewuma?" You turned over slightly, the question directed towards your husband. But his expression matches yours, confusion written all over his face. "Our daughter said you taught her wewuma today."
That sentence made Rafayel laughed, releasing you from his embrace and with him smacking his hand against the marble counter a couple of times. "Wewuma!" He continued his laugh, but mellowed down when he noticed that you became more confused than ever. "I taught her how to speak Lemurian." He said, the wide, cheeky grin not leaving his face anytime soon.
"Oh." Realisation hits you about his lesson for the day and you shake your head, chuckling at how your daughter had the word pronounced earlier. You can't blame her, as she is not a preschooler yet. Rafayel attached himself to your back again, his lips pressed a kiss to the shell of your ear and you blushed. Despite being married for quite some time, his intimate actions never failed to make you feel like a giddy teen girl.
"Lemurian is already a dying language. So, wifey..." He nibbled your ears lightly, whispering his question quietly. "How about we make one more little us?" His arms tightened around your hips and you felt something pressed against your bum, making you gasped in teasing pleasure. He turned you around forcefully and pushed you up onto the kitchen counter effortlessly, spreading your legs. "Right here. Tonight."
˚ · • . ° .
ZAYNE - FATHER TO A PAIR OF TWINS
Tumblr media Tumblr media
"Thanks a lot, my love." You leaned forward to hug your husband, after knowing that he had planned an itinerary for you to get yourself pampered for a whole day. That includes making the necessary bookings and paying for all of the expenses. Not to mention the extra money he had given to you so you may use it to buy anything you please from the mall you would be visiting later in your itinerary. "You deserve it. Given how much you had cared for the kids the past few days as I was busy with work." He leaned down slightly, pressing a kiss to your forehead as a loving gesture. "In return, I shall take care of the kids today."
Zayne fetched you to the middle of Linkon city, where all of the activities planned out in the itinerary are located before he headed back. Not wanting to go home to his toddlers being awake from their sleep. When he arrived home, he heard the creak of a door as he was placing his shoes on the shoe rack. Lumi and Iver, hand in hand, facing their father.
"Daddy?" The both of them spoke in sync, given their connection as twins. Fraternal twins, a rare occurrence for any mothers in life. They are considered a miracle given the statistics whereas out of 100 births that happen, only 2 mothers would end up with fraternal twins. And the percentage of getting fraternal twins are way lesser as compared to conceiving twins of the same gender.
Short way to put it, y/n and Zayne has a very special family, in fact they may be one of the few families within Linkon city to have a pair of fraternal twins. Hence, they are very lucky indeed. Both of the twins were named after snow or winter season, with Zayne's evol being the main inspiration. Zayne's daughter Lumi, carries the meaning of snow and light, while Iver's name means winter in French.
Contrary to their names, none of them have any features that are pale as the cold weather, except for their milky white skin. There had always been a debate on which child inherited the looks of which parent, in this case, Lumi looks like her mother and Iver takes on his father's looks. And it could be easily told apart from their hair colour, and eye colour.
"Both of you just woke up?" Zayne's voice was gentle, going over to both of his kids and bending down to their eye level. They are both 3 years old, so you can imagine how tough it was for him to lower his height just to meet their eyes. "What do you want to eat?"
"Daddy, can we watch you make eggs?" Iver asked, his hazel green orbs twinkled under the sun rays shining in through their sky light. "The ones that are flat?" He even used his hand to draw a line in the air, to demonstrate the word 'flat' to his father.
Zayne smiled, nodding his head and walked towards the kitchen with the two toddlers bobbing behind him. Their standard breakfast had consisted of nothing but nutritious and vital for growth. For their father is a doctor afterall. Zayne sat them both into their respective baby chairs and put on an apron, not wanting to dirty his outfit, and he started to cook, with the twins watching his every move. A few 'wah' and 'daddy, daddy, do it again!' slipping from their mouths every once in a while when Zayne does something out of the blue.
Half of the day passed, Lumi and Iver sat in the living room after Zayne had given them a bath and a change of clothings. They will be heading out soon for dinner. Zayne has never been a huge fan of cooking, but only does it out of necessity. The same rule applies even now, breakfasts can be done at home but for dinners, if time allows for both of the parents, Zayne would much rather eat out with his family.
"Daddy, time! Time!" Lumi shouted from the living room when they heard the cuckoo's chime, hailing from the handmade wooden clock that you bought a while ago. Although the toddlers had yet to enter pre-school, they are both surprisingly fast-learners. 9 months in, both of them had already started learning alphabets, and by now, their vocabulary has expanded beyond the age of usual three year olds. You strongly believe Zayne's genes are the cause behind this.
Zayne appeared from the room, a long-sleeved black turtleneck clad to his well-built physique, his iconic black slacks makes yet another appearance, and his hand held a dark grey coat. The weather was getting chilly and he decided to bring along a coat for you, the colour identical to his.
"Lumi, Iver, get your coats and I will help you to wear them." Zayne instructed, picking his car key off of the key holder on the wall. He had decided to go with the Maserati Levante i am not sponsored by them but the cars does scream his taste today, a comfortable SUV for his family of four.
"It's okay daddy. Iver will help me." Lumi responded, arms holding up horizontally as Iver put on one of the sleeves for her light grey coat, then running over to the other side to help her to put on the remaining sleeves. "My turn." Lumi did the same for her sibling. When they are both done, they walked over to Zayne and held their arms up in sync again, urging their father silently to help them to tie their coats.
Zayne did just that, hair as dark as the night cascading in front his face when he bent down to help his kids tied a knot to secure their coats. Satisfied at the way their knots turned out, he gave each of them a kiss on their cheeks. "Are you both excited to see mummy?"
"YES!" Both of the kids shouted, arms raising, a sign of elatedness. Zayne held onto both of their hands, one on each side and slowly walked them to the car.
...
Zayne had chosen a western restaurant for dinner, reservation timing marked at 6pm. Now, here he sat, with both of his kids secured tightly behind in baby car seats. He was parked temporarily at the valet parking, patiently waiting for his wife. Soft piano music was played in the car to ease the silence as the kids were sound asleep in the back.
Seeing a familiar figure closing in, Zayne got out of the car and walked towards the passenger side, greeting you with a warm hug. "I could not have asked for a better day to pamper myself." You sighed contently, face flat against his chest, inhaling the scent of his cologne. A scent he would only use whenever he is out with you, a soft mix of pine wood and oakwood as the top notes, vanilla as the middle notes and cinnamon as end notes. A scent you are all too familiar with.
"Then I shall plan more of this for you." He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips. "You must be hungry, I had already booked us a table at one of the nearby restaurants." He opened the car door and you got into the car. Getting into the car, he added. "The kids are sound asleep behind, I will wake them up once we arrived at the restaurant."
"Hello my babies." You greeted once the car door to the back was opened, watching your twins stirred in their sleep, before eyes slowly fluttering open.
"Iver..." Zayne cooed to his son, standing on the other side of the door, unbuckling the baby seats for the twins. "We had arrived at the restaurant. Let me give you lift, alright?" You had never imagine Zayne with kids, given how cold he is of a person. Not mean and ignorant, but just, monotonous, quiet and calm. Having kids with was unexpected, but him asking for kids was even more shocking.
The young man lifted his son into his arms, smoothing the back of his son's coat to make sure he is fully covered from the brazen cold wind and he headed in after locking the car. With you, holding onto your half-awake daughter into the restaurant.
The dinner was enjoyable, with the twins munching on to their kids meals and with you sat next to Zayne, having a delectable meal based on the waiter's recommendation. "The food here is good." You commented and your twins looked up, Lumi smiled and nodded, while Iver, with his face stuffed, nodded as well. "So what have you kids been doing today?"
"We watched cartoons." Lumi said, eyes mimicking your eye colours radiating her giddiness. You assumed the cartoons would be more educations rather than entertaining as Zayne does prefer the twins having to gain some form of knowledge from the cartoons. For him, the method is practically killing two birds with one stone. "Daddy also read some storybooks for us." Iver added in, still chewing onto his food, which made Zayne leaned forward to wipe the boy's lips clean with the napkin. "And we took a nap on daddy's chest."
"Be careful of choking, Iver." Zayne warned, his tone soft, giving him son's cheek a soft pinch. Zayne's lips tugged upwards, there is no way he could be mad at his own twins. That is how much he loves them.
"That is good to hear. Sounds like an eventful day for today. And I think daddy did a great job." You happily stated, resuming your meal. A hand on your thigh made you jerked slightly and you looked over, your husband's smile had exchanged for a smirk.
"It is my responsibility to take good care of the kids." He eyed the twins, and facing back to you, his orbs turning a shade darker. "But, it is also my responsibility to make my wife feel good. Mentally..." He trailed off, hands smoothing up your thighs till his thumb glided slowly over your intimate area. The table cloth a good disguise as Zayne's fingers worked his way to pull your panties to the side, collecting the wetness that was pooled there.
You shot daggers towards your husband as this is a public area but he paid no mind to you. The tip of his middle finger, the one adorning the wedding ring, slowly pushed its' way inside of you, pumping an agonizing pace into you. "And physically, of course." pls do this to me too Zayne, i want more babies too
˚ · • . ° .
XAVIER - FATHER TO A SON
Tumblr media
"DADDY! DADDY! DADDY!" Lucian came bursting in through the door leading to his parent's room, causing Xavier to stir in his sleep. Eyebrows furrowed at the loud sounds of his son's voice at the early start of the weekend. The copy of Xavier jumped onto the bed and grabbed ahold of his father. "Wake up daddy!"
"Yeah, yeah I am awake now." Xavier yawned, rubbing his eyes with one hand and the other coming up to secure his son on him so he don't fall off. "What's the matter?"
"Mummy said you can take me to go get ice-cream today." His light blue eyes just a tone lighter than his father's when he propped himself up on his father's chest, patiently awaiting for a response. "Daddy please?"
"Okay okay." Xavier chuckled, hugging his son tight in his arms and the young boy laughed. With that, Xavier got out of the bed, with Lucian in his embrace. The hallways outside of the room wafted the smell of noodles and he knew immediately that you are still within the house.
But he was wrong, when he saw you being all dressed up, in a white t-shirt and blue jeans, sitting at the front of your door when you are tying the shoelaces to your sneakers. "Where are you going?" Xavier asked.
You turned at the sound of his voice and watched as Lucian was placed onto the floor by his father and the little boy came running to hug you. "I am heading to the mall with Tara for a little while. She needed me to help her pick out a dress." Standing up, you checked your outfit in the standing mirror for one last time. "At the meantime, you okay with bringing Lucian out for ice-cream?"
Xavier smiled and nodded obediently, taking long strides to press a loving kiss to his wife's lips and he sees her off. Lucian waving his small hands to say bye-bye to his own mother. "Have you eaten yet kiddo?" Xavier asked his son, only for the toddler to shake his head. "Alright, come on, let's have breakfast together. Then we will go for ice-cream later."
Xavier placed Lucian into the baby seat at the dining table and he took off the lid of the pot that was on the stove and he noticed that you had made tomato soup noodles. A dish that you had recently learned from social media. Your first try at making this dish however, was a failure. With Xavier finishing the tasteless noodles and struggling with diarrhea for the next few days. This time, he had his fingers crossed, hoping that the soup would be edible and not cause any unwanted effects.
Before giving the bowl to his son, Xavier tasted the soup base first, to taste if it would be too hot for his son to ingest. To his surprise, the soup was sweet and tangy, which marks a win for your cooking this time. He hungrily filled up his own bowl, before scooping a few spoonfuls of soup and noodles into Lucian's bowl. He also made sure to cut the noodles short enough so it would not cause Lucian to choke on his own food.
"Did mummy made this?" The 3 year old asked, eyes wide, moving in between his father's lips, and to his bear-shaped plastic bowl. Lucian have had a fair share of his father's cooking. The experience of watching his father cook was just as traumatic as eating the food his father had made. There was even this one time, Xavier nearly set the kitchen on fire because he added in some cooking wine into a very hot pan filled with oil and that made Lucian cried for the whole night.
"Yes, your mum made this." Xavier ate his noodles, slurping onto it like a champ. "If she asks me to make breakfast for you, we can just skip breakfast and go for ice-cream instead." Xavier acknowledges his incompetence when it comes to cooking, and it is the only one thing he would not dare to compete with you. he just cant cook anything that deals with fire or electric, just admit it with me boys and girls
...
"Daddy, what do you want?" Lucian asked his father, looking at the flavours that was on display. "Do you want the blue one? Or the green one? Or the red one?" He swung his short legs back and forth, all the while sitting on Xavier's shoulders. The little one did not feel like walking earlier on and that was why Xavier gave him a lift on his shoulders.
"Which one would you like kiddo?" Xavier smiled politely at the waitress behind the counter and the waitress returned the smile, a blush coming onto her face. Who would not blush at the sight of a good looking young man with a son that looks just exactly like him? "How about the blue and red one?"
"Okay!" The young boy excitedly agreed, watching the process of the ice-creamed getting scooped out of the canister and placed onto a cone. Xavier slowly lowered his son down and held onto the hand of the young boy before making the payment at the counter. "Thank you!" Lucian spoke to the cashier when the ice-cream was handed to him and they both took a seat by the window in the store, facing the streets.
Xavier had always wanted a boy, the sole purpose being he could train the son well enough so you can be protected. You were not buying into his idea to begin with but the moment you found out that you were pregnant with a boy, Xavier could not be more than glad. He was so happy to the point he said. "We should name him Lucian, as he shall be the light in our lives." Xavier's words touched your heart and since then, Lucian has been the light in both of your hearts. just like you are the light in OUR HEARTS hello?
The young boy took a lick out of the blue ice-cream, then switched to the red ice-cream and took another lick. Seeing his tongue turning purple, Xavier pointed at his son. "Your tongue is turning purple because of the ice-cream, kiddo." Taking his phone out, he took a picture of Lucian with his purple tongue hanging out of his mouth. He then sent the picture to you, with the caption 'Brain Freeze'.
"Daddy, here." Lucian stretched his arm out, the ice cream in hand and held it in front of his father's face. Xavier took it as an invitation and he took a big bite out of the ice-cream. His action made the young boy flabbergasted, mouth forming an 'O' when he realised that his father just bit off a whole chunk and now he is left with a few more lick of ice cream.
The son's intense gaze at the ice-cream made Xavier felt guilty that he took such a huge bite. His son was not much a naggy child, but he still would not want to upset his little boy. "I'm sorry kiddo, I can---" He wanted to offer to buy the boy another ice-cream but Lucian only laughed, his tone amused.
"That is so funny daddy, when you go AHHH---" Lucian mimicked the way Xavier bit the ice-cream, mouth widely opened and face all crinkled up to show just how big of a bite Xavier had conducted. His son's reaction made Xavier laughed as well, Never knowing his son has such a sense of humour.
The door opened, chiming of the bells at the door could be heard and Xavier looked up, seeing you walking in with a bag in your hands. "Hey boys!" You called out and Lucian turned in his seat and called out to you, arms opened and waiting for you to hug him. Xavier took the ice-cream out of his son's hand so he would not dirty your shirt and he stood up, taking his place to stand next to you.
"How was the outing with Tara?" Xavier took the bag from you and pulled a chair over from the other table as you set your son back down onto his chair. The ice-cream that your husband was holding previously was returned to its rightful owner.
"It was eventful. We only managed to find the dress she wanted at the highest floor." You fanned yourself, sweat beading at your forehead. Your husband took a piece of tissue out of the tissue holder and he dabbed it across your forehead, not wanting to ruin your makeup since you are still on an outing with him. "Thanks a lot."
"No problem." Xavier purposely avoided your gaze, hiding his smile. "The tomato-based noodle soup you made this morning is very good by the way. I enjoyed every bite of it." He complimented, looking over to his son and noticing the young boy, staring out of the window, in the direction of two kids playing by the park, chasing one another.
"Daddy, mummy." Your son's voice beckoned the both of you to turn your heads to face him. His stubby little fingers pressed against the window, pointing towards the two kids at the park. "Can I have a brother?" The way he phrased the questions sounded like siblings could be bought off of a shelf. Your jaw dropped.
But Xavier was expecting this, expecting the fact he would not just settle for one child. He loves you so much, not only as his lover, but he also loves the way you look, with your stomach bulging during the days you are pregnant, carrying a miniature version of him inside. And not to mention, he enjoys the process of giving you a baby. Just the thought of seeing you pregnant again, his cerulean eyes catch yours, similar to a gaze of a predator awaiting to jump onto its prey. He reached his hand out to take yours on the table, giving it a small squeeze of comfort.
"Of course you can." Xavier's gaze darkened, hungry for intimacy. He dragged his fingertips up and down your arms, and stopping right at the back of your hand to draw mindless circles on it. Doing all that without getting his eyes off of you. "Daddy will not stop until you get a brother."
Tumblr media
Sorry this took wayyy longer than expected, the toughest part was to find the pictures that would match the faces of the kids and also having to do research for their names and figuring our scenarios that would make the fathers take care of their kids. Other than Rafayel, Zayne and Xavier are going to be out most of the time due to their work!
But I had fun creating this piece, hope you guys enjoyed this! Lots of love <3
807 notes · View notes
halseyhatter · 17 days
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Zayne knowing knowing MC, a collection
316 notes · View notes
halseyhatter · 17 days
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Special Collab × ANAN Magazine
Glass
The glass is all fogged up.🌫️Hmm… What if you cleared those water droplets like this…
■ Zayne's Exclusive Interview Revealed
As the chief surgeon of the Cardiac Surgery Division at Akso Hospital, Zayne is highly praised by colleagues and patients alike. However, his personal life remains a mystery to many.
🤍 Love at first sight or a slow burn romance? How would he plan the perfect date? Ever received confessions?…
Let's dive into ANAN Magazine's interview with him and discover his answers.
48 notes · View notes
halseyhatter · 17 days
Text
Tumblr media
zayne nation we won
280 notes · View notes
halseyhatter · 2 months
Text
three. minimum.
Tumblr media
! minors if you so much as BREATHE in the direction of this post i'm calling your mum and telling her !
"A flock of Ancuníns. Happy with more, obviously, but I’m picturing three as a negotiable starting point. Providing this works, that is."
Astarion has been planning, for the first time in his life. He wants babies.
You are ripe and willing.
word count: 4,326
crossposted on AO3 HERE
read the tags and decide your fate! this is SMUT!
f/m
“The things that are mine in this world are few and far between, my love. You know this.”
Astarion skims the Gazette with bronze rimmed glasses perched at the tip of his nose as you stand with your back to the counter, hands clutching the solid wood on either side. 
He sits back on one of the table chairs while his legs rest; crossed, atop another. 
With the tadpole gone, mitigation started soon after to prevent any lasting damage to your beloved. Preoccupied with strategy, consideration as to his weaknesses made null by the parasite hadn’t crossed either of your minds and the moment the brain fell these began to make themselves abundantly clear in quick succession. 
Adjusting to any form of light took a brutal toll on his vision in the first few weeks. He often assures you that the glasses are a temporary measure for vanity’s sake, but not from any real fear of your response. His devastating beauty is still just that, just a few years later. His laughter lines a little deeper.
The washroom by your bedchamber is bursting with burn salves and balms gifted by Derryth to aid with the sun damage done at the dock immediately after your victory against the Absolute. Any evidence of that day on him has all but disappeared, but the smell remains a point of calm for him; for you both. Herbal but thoroughly clinical.
In his robe he looks somewhat the role of a miser. Linen night trousers with matching nightshirt and thick sheepskin house slippers. Face lit by fresh warm candlelight. Dusk as early morning. A nightcap would be the only requirement to complete the look, you tease. 
He scoffs in a way that implies he’s at least thought about it. 
“I mean - you’re more than welcome to attempt a repair, but I can’t see even you getting very far.”
You take from the counter and hold up a torn ruffled shirt - his camp shirt, the one he wore throughout your great misadventure. You remember many a night spent sleeping in his tent with this held close to your nose while he hunted the surrounding forests.
“It’s still mine, my sweet. I will see to it, I promise. What good is a tailor who can’t repair his own damn clothes.” He sniffs.
You raise your brows and purse your lips, but he doesn’t look away from the paper. 
The coffee bubbles away calmly on the stove.
Your new cycle of day at night has been relatively easy with which to adjust. Astarion is the only person you find yourself wanting to spend time with, and through his eyes you see a new beauty below the stars. You navigate it together, his first freedom in 200 years and a whole new world for yourself - taverns, night markets; dances by firelight.
Life in the space of another.
The start of his business, a discreet tailor’s shop in the Upper City for only the most discerning of clientele. Money isn’t of concern if you choose to continue living a relatively modest life together, but he was bored.
You inhale deeply. Bergamot, rosemary, and a whiff of aged brandy. The mental image of him saying it, hands gesticulating nonsensically. Roaming around the Grey Harbour Docks. 
The shirt has been sat in a bundle in the corner of your wardrobe since the party packed up and went their separate ways. The scent remains, though marred by a note of sweat and plenty of firesmoke. You’d long consigned it to the waste but he wants to keep it and you’re of no mind to persuade him otherwise.
It feels scandalous. Like you’re partaking in something illicit by bringing the shirt to your nose. Feeling the want to bury your face into it until the sun rises. 
Maybe rut hazily into the bed pillows at the same time.
“What are you doing?”
He looks up from the paper with heavy lidded eyes, removing his glasses and folding the paper shut. A knowing smirk on his face. You have no notion as to how long you’ve been standing there smelling the obsolete shirt, but surely it wasn’t long enough to stoke suspicion?
Regardless, he’s seen you now.
“Smells good. Like you.” You confess with a wide smile. 
“Unlike you to be so wanton, though.’
His hands circle as he speaks with a faux accusatory tone, hovering in midair.
‘At such an early hour no less.”  
You open your mouth to speak but no words come.
He stands, silencing the coffee pot as it begins to chirp and then stilling before you. 
Deep in quick calculating thought before meeting your eyes with his own.
“Mid-cycle. Am I correct, little love?” He smoulders as he speaks.
For him to be so quick to the mark and overtly horny when asking about your cycle is both impressive in memory and horrifically funny, but your mind is foggy and you have an intense primal urge not to piss him off. You refrain from commenting.
You look away to run your own mental sums, unphased by the abrupt nature of his statement. He can notice blood a mile across town before he can discern cooking in the next room - and who are you to deny him such a feast when the source is right astride him? 
The last time he fed from your weeping hole specifically can’t have been less than a tenday ago.
Picturing the act has your eyelids fluttering for a moment. Those legendary roguish curls buried between your aching parted thighs. Glimpses of deep red; his carnelian eyes bore into you just as his tongue does, greedy mouth latched onto your hole for hours and hours. 
You can see in your mind’s eye the lithe fingers that jerk your clit, encouraging the little spasms that provide him with fresh hot spillings of blood from your cunt. 
He ruts as he does so, cock painfully hard and blisteringly-hot from friction. Precum covers the sheets in long spidery strings and glistens like frost.
“You are.” 
Putting counting fingers away. Meeting his eyes once more.
Astarion doesn’t break eye contact. He’s willing you to engage with him a little further, no jokes or frivolity.
“Shall we sit?”
-
You head to the den, soft cushioned seating and blankets strewn artfully across the room in his particular fashion while he crouches to light the fire. You admire the strength in his thighs as he moves, stoking the flames and adding kindling as they burst. Disappearing into the kitchen for two tankards of black coffee and placing them on the low table in front of you, paper under arm. He then rushes up the stairs of your townhouse for a minute longer to grab a file full of papers.
“You’re in a good mood this evening.” You speak, sipping straight from the piping hot stoneware and burning the roof of your mouth, lava down your throat. 
“I’ve been thinking.”
“Never a good start.”
A cushion hits your face, jostling your mug and spilling a small splat of coffee on the throw blanket over your knees. His face crumples.
“Well if you’re not going to take me seriously, I simply shan’t discuss anything with you ever again.”
Silence.
“This is going to be a very long eternity, Astarion.”
He sits and stews, no amount of give in his shoulders. Clearly there’s a vulnerability in what he’s about to try to discuss with you, no matter how dramatic his petty bravado is.
“Ok, ok.’ You take his free hand in yours.
‘I’m sorry. I’m listening.”
An inhale. His brows unknot. 
“So, I’ve been thinking.” He looks at you pointedly.
“Oh?”
A pause. Another breath.
“Vampire and mortal relationships through time. Their motivations, successes, failures; every little piece of information I could find on those shelves. I didn’t quite know what I was looking for when I began my reading, but now I’m almost sure I’ve found it.”
The paper he was reading in the kitchen is presented to you. You rarely question his reading habits so missing the date in the top corner is an understandable slip; but you see it.
Not this morning’s Baldur’s Mouth, but that of a long while ago. Sixty-four years to be precise. 
Curious eyes skim the page until you find it. A small paragraph. A Dhampir, born to loving parents in a reclusive manor somewhere else along the Sword Coast. A birth announcement for their noble friends in the city confirming the surprisingly good health of the infant and thanking those involved. You squint.
“They had three more. All still younglings in the grand scheme of things, but all healthy. All born; more importantly, alive.”
Astarion brings the file into his lap and studies your face closely for any signs of displeasure. 
“What are you suggesting?”
You turn to face him. He rolls his eyes.
“I’m obviously suggesting we spend this evening sorting our taxes!’ 
He opens and wiggles his hands in mock excitement, sipping his coffee.
‘You and that marvellously thick skull of yours. We should consider hiring it out for target practice.”
You ignore his theatrics and look at the paragraph, then back to him.
“You want a baby?”
He errs, tilting his head from side to side and moving his hands alongside. His ears twitch.
“More the bit a little later, when they can talk - and also not just shit at will.” 
“I wasn’t aware our good friend Wyll was a known target for baby shit.’
This time, the pillow remains in his hands as it slaps your head, softly. You collapse in a fit of giggles.
‘I’m going to have to ask you to refrain from hitting the future mother of your child with such brutish force again.” You squeal. 
Astarion stops.
“What?”
“You heard me.”
You sit straight and sip your coffee once more, taking the file from his lap as he sits. Motionless. Sifting through pages on pages of research on conception, care, birth, raising. He has effectively put together a dossier on breeding and caring for one of these things.
Though you rarely admit it, you’ve found that as you’ve grown; you’ve become insufferably maternal whenever the opportunity arises to be so. 
What started with Mirkon and the harpies back in the Emerald Grove led to Arabella and Yenna taking residence in your camp back then respectively. Developed into an innate desire to tell each child drawing stick figures in the mud that you’d pay great tithings to be able to hang such beautiful art in your home and meant it. 
Continued in every child’s fitting Astarion took on; decadent parties to which parents bring their darling younglings, delivering lavender and honeyed milk to each sleepy subject of your partner’s work. Fresh carrot cookies. Wiping gathered crumbs away from the corner of tired little mouths which never seem to fail to fall atop Astarion’s hand as he works.
An article on Noblestalk then catches your eye. A fringe group, followers of Shiallia; and their observations on the effects of Noblestalk in fertility. The subject of their recent studies. Your mind flits to your washroom.
Seemingly one of the seven-thousand spawn released into the Underdark - where the Noblestalk thrives - by Astarion during the Rite of Profane Ascension, and a mortal adventurer. A Dhampir. Born alive and breathing and well.
“Gods, this is something.” You pause over the page. He nods.
“Ridiculous, isn’t it? Some stupid funghi seems to be able to do all this.” 
You pause. The remarkability of this discovery and he’s seemingly kept it to himself for months, stowed away. Each minute spent reading tomes you don’t care for he was searching for this. Evidence you two can create something more than the home you’ve settled so naturally into, the business you’ve built from the ground up; something that’ll - hopefully - even surpass the two of you in age and create a lineage of your very own. 
He has never planned so thoroughly for anything.
Astarion truly wants this. 
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner! You’re a grandad!” You nuzzle into his arm proudly, beaming in jest. 
“Have I ever told you how absolutely insufferable you are?” He quips, brow raised as you laugh to yourself on the sofa. 
“Frequently. Lucky it doesn’t bother me.” 
The townhouse you share has spare rooms which have sat empty until one of your many ideas for them would eventually come into fruition. A craft room, a tailoring suite; now relegated to plans in your head for a nursery so saccharine; so sweet, it becomes all you can think about.
You press a chaste kiss to his lips. His stony face softens and his grin becomes just as dopey as yours in the early evening candlelight. 
“I’ve not had anything in so long. Not until you.’
He lifts his coffee again and sips, sighing contently as the liquid warms his bones.
‘And I love you to a point where I genuinely do dream about fucking you full of my undead spawn, I’m sorry to say.” A mock sympathetic face. The smile remains on yours. Coffee tankard placed on the table.
You truly want this.
“How does that even work?” You ponder. He grins.
“Plenty of blood, my sweet. The Noblestalk seemingly does the rest.”
“And when you say full, how many?”
You move to bring your crouching leg over his lap, spinning to face him and now resting atop his thighs. 
He thinks for a moment.
“Three. Minimum.”
“Minimum?!”
A roguish grin. 
“You can’t have a flock until five. Us two, plus three.’
Astarion’s eyes roam your chest, now fortunately directly in his eyeline. 
‘A flock of Ancuníns. Happy with more, obviously, but I’m picturing three as a negotiable starting point. Providing this works, that is.”
“I’ve definitely thought about it. Having your children.’ 
You lean into him. He shivers.
‘But my love, we can’t just unleash Dhampir into the world.”  The connotations are obvious, but you don’t mean a single one of them. 
You’re giving him a chance to say no.
“There are great schools now. Better even than when I was a youngling, and I somehow made it as a magistrate. Plus -’
His arms wrap around your waist, head resting on your plump chest in a quiet reverence. His tone shifts from one of blatant persuasion to one altogether softer.
‘They’d have you as a mother, no less. My whole heart. Undoubtedly the most beautiful thing across all the spans of Toril, the saviour of Baldur’s Gate; my liberator and my wife.’
Eyes look up now, meeting yours.
‘I’d have spent lifetimes looking for you, if things were different. Instead you landed - quite literally - here, in my lap; and you’re somehow silly enough to have chosen to wed me of all those you could’ve had flocking for your hand. I’ve spent enough time questioning your mental capacity for that decision, and flagrantly disrespecting that pretty head of yours in an attempt to put you off me. You deserve so much more.’
His cool hand brushes your jaw, gripping it gently and pulling you in for a soft, wet kiss. He tastes of coffee and his lips are warmed through to a point where kissing him is no shock to the system.
‘Claim me fully as yours, my darling. Let me have you wholly as mine. Please. I’ll want for nothing more.”
You feel it now. His cock is rock hard under your warm core. His gaze - while alluringly pathetic in the way his eyes are round and glassy - retains its predatory touch with the way his brows furrow.
“Now?” You whisper, closing your mouth around the pointed tip of his ear and suckling gently. 
He groans deeply and ruts up underneath you, hitting your core bluntly as he squirms.  
“Gods, please.” Astarion whispers breathlessly. You wonder how long he’s been leaking into those dignified linen trousers during this conversation while you were sitting a hair’s breadth away, unknowing.
“How bad do you want it?”
You fall to a sitting position on his thighs. He looks at you ruinously. A man starved.
“Did you want me to beg you?’
He pulls you closer again, glacial fingers working at your blouse as you plant heavy kisses in his silvery curls. 
‘I know you can keen at just my voice, little dove. Did you want to hear me beg you for it?’
He whispers as his fingertips find your nipples, rolling the sweet nubs between thumbs and forefingers. The cold touch is stark in difference to the warmth of the fire and you feel your lips slicken with desire between your thighs. 
‘Because this, this is something I’ll beg you for.’
One hand quickly moves down your belly to your core, gently circling the fabric stretched over your wet hole. 
‘I picture you; milk-laden bosom, aching legs and heavy belly. Busy about the house. Being doted on in bed.’
Relief as he pressures the engorged nub above - not enough to be of any real pleasure. He growls, feeling how soaked he makes you with his words. 
‘Deep set with my child, no less.’
He’s reverent in his speech now. Fingers work the waistband of your underclothes.
‘Gods. If it weren’t more essential to be within you, that image alone could bring me to completion right now.’
You stand back with urgency and pull his trousers from him, wriggling your own undergarments off and tossing them aside in one fell swoop. 
A thin spool of your own arousal connects your wetness to your underwear until this moment, clearly visible in the candlelight and sticking to your leg. Astarion groans with an ungodsly grit of his fangs. 
‘And look at you. My girl. My perfect, perfect girl. Come here. Sit.”
His cock is beautiful, genuinely.
Harder than you’ve ever seen it before - though you doubted that could be possible before this - and ruddy with a blooming redness gathered at his fat tip. 
Precum leaks and spills with each breath, bubbling over from his slit and glistening as it falls over his statuesque popping veins.
“Feed first. Then fill me.” You command. 
He nods intently. 
You sit bare on his lap, ass to heel on either side of his thighs as he ghosts over your throat, leaning forwards and kissing it sloppily.
You want to see him rut.
To see his aching cock search for solace; to watch as it deepens in red as your blood enters him. He often ruts comfortingly against you when he feeds, nestling into your warmth, hard and spearing into your soft flesh over and over while he suckles. Wet patches cover your unwashed clothes.
The next time he does so with relief will be inside you. You smile headily to yourself.
He latches to your neck with ease and as blood begins to pool in his mouth, you look down and see his hips moving feebly, mindlessly. 
He’s desperate to fuck something. 
Whining and panting and giggling deliciously as his length brushes the tip of your swollen clit. Blood dribbles down his milky chin as sheer delight forces it out through laughter.
Each movement of his pelvis conditions your cunt accordingly and you are completely sopping wet by the time you start to feel hazy. 
“Just a little more, love. Promise.” He speaks with a full mouth of blood, a smile against skin.
Pulling yourself forward, using the back of the seat behind Astarion as leverage. He remains glued to your neck.
“I need you.” You whisper into his hair. 
He retracts and looks up in an instant, and though his mouth is bloodied and his eyes are heavy, there’s the most beautiful currant colour pooling at his cock head. You need it.
The predator in him returns 
He moves you with brutal speed so you lie lengthways, him atop of you. Your legs rest on his shoulders. He jerks himself slowly, still bloodied around the mouth; watching as your soaked cunt clenches with lust.
“You really want this?’
You nod furiously, reaching for his length and sighing as it stands; molten, inches from your core.
‘Because once I’ve started, I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop.”
He is so devastatingly beautiful in this light. Grey ringlets sullied by your fervent kisses. His eyes now a little softer. You love him more than anything on earth.
He wants your word. 
“I want to do it. I want you, I beg.’
A quirked brow. You forgot something.
‘I want you to completely fatten my womb with your undead spawn, Mr Ancunín. Fuck me and fill me. I am at your mercy.” Your snorting laugh turns into an anticipatory moan. His eyes roll to the very back of his skull as an inhuman groan leaves his lungs.
“Oh no, my love. Mrs Ancunín. You forget. They’ll be born very much alive.”
He then spears you fully, rocking his head just at your entrance for a moment or two before sheathing himself to the hilt.
The noises.
The fucking noises.
The squelch of your messy cunt, his shallow panting as he stills inside you; your keening against him and his little desperate moans.
He tests the waters with a couple of gentle thrusts. 
“I’m not going to last long.” He whispers raggedly and kisses you, open mouthed. Tries to regain some composure.
“Me either.” You grin, rolling your dizzy head to the side in sheer joy. He laughs breathily.
Astarion moves slowly; usually a proudly consummate lover, now focusing wholly on trying not to cum until he’s buried deep enough within you for your cervix to bruise with his strokes.
You writhe. It’s a prolonged agony, the most insatiable kind of mindless pleasure. You feel spit gathering at the corners of your mouth as you loll back and forth, lifting your hips to meet his, establishing a brief jerky rhythm between you.
The position you hold gives him access to you far too easily. He’s wrecked within moments, rutting deep at your very core. You feel the sheer frustration in his terse snaps. 
“I- I can’t. I can’t. I’m-”
You blissfully tip his forehead to yours, leaning up to kiss him. Commanding him. Bringing him back into himself.
“Tell me you want this.”
His eyes meet yours, round and pleading, as his hips curl up into you and he repeatedly kisses your cervix as he struggles to speak. Hand pressing on your belly. He feels himself move inside you and whimpers. 
“I want this. You, full of my children. Desperately. Constantly.’
A silent gasp as you clench around him.
‘Give into me. Give us our baby, my sweet girl. I-
One last roll of his hips.
‘I am wholly devoted to every little thing that is you.”
You freefall over the edge at the sound of his borderline sobs and the words interlaced in them, mind intent on giving him everything you both want for the rest of your lives. You need to milk him, every last drop; and retain it deep within you. Giant stars rocketing behind your eyes and one in front, past your eyelids. Your little star.
He spasms violently before he spills.
The most filthy noises you’ve ever heard now tumble from his bloodied lips, grunting and groaning and panting; his brows furrow, his face that a man weeping. A whine every time you clench around him.
Eyes wide, a shade of merlot in the dim candlelight. 
Round with surprising realisation as to what he’s just done. The fact he has actually done it. 
And you feel it. The way it makes him click, like a sprung lever; fucking feral with a primal feeling of possession.
His blushed tip spurting in time with his contractions, his smattering orgasm pulsing deep inside you. 
Lashings and lashings of his seed hammered bluntly inside your fertile womb and pushed through the tip of your cervix, now plugged as his hips meet yours, devastatingly; over and over, his hand still pressing on your reddened belly. 
Stilling for an instant then pounding once again with his now-sensitive cock. He winces.
“I have t- it has to take.” He forces out. Ruts again.
“There’s always tomorrow-”
“No. I’ve done the maths - it has to be tonight, if it’s going to be this cycle. This time. This sowing.”
Astarion is desperate. He’s sat and wanted this, alone; for so long. Let you roam his mind, atop his body, into his dreams, to the point where you’re the only one able to grant them. 
And by the Gods does he deserve a win. As many of those little victories you can give him.
His head nestles into the crook of your neck as he flops onto you, statuesque face smeared in blood. Softening cock plugging you still.
“Keep those hips up, my love.” He whispers, slipping one of the richly embroidered throw pillows under your ass. 
“Does the doting begin now, or do I have to wait until I’m the size of a house? Because I am dying for a fresh drink. Maybe a bath.”
Astarion stops for a moment and grins. Really, properly grins. 
You lightly smack his face with your palm.
“Darling, you wound me.’
He sighs and stands groggily, stilling your bare hips on the pillow and pulling his linen trousers up over his still-blushed member.
‘When have I ever not doted on you?”
“Did you really want me to answer that?” You quip. He snorts.
Astarion then flops back over to you, gently; and smatters your face in kisses.
“Gods, you’re beautiful. My darling girl’ 
He purrs, covering you with a blanket as you hum to yourself by the light of the fire.
‘Beverage. Bath. Anything else, my love?” 
You look at him as he stands, one hand on hip while the other cards once through his rakish curls. 
He’s beautiful. Genuinely beautiful. Elven prince in another life kind of beautiful, soft red eyes meeting yours in a slow blink.
“You. Obviously. Hurry back.” 
A grin, and he disappears around the corner.
260 notes · View notes
halseyhatter · 3 months
Text
Unexpected
Summary: Astarion has barely ever considered starting a family with you in the old-fashioned way, but an unexpected conversation might just trigger that urge.
Pairing: Astarion x femalex!Tav
Warnings: 18+. Astarion's POV. Breeding kink. Creampie. P in V sex. Body worship. Vampire bite. Blood drinking. Precum.
Word count: 2.2k
As far as Astarion was concerned, babes were merely drool and poop dispensers.  
He could definitely do without having to be around one for more than the strictly necessary.
And today was one of those days.
You had offered to look after one of your friend's toddler, but he had somehow been left on duty as you worked around the kitchen.
Typical.
He glared at the tiny human that stood on his thighs, wobbling dangerously and was only kept upright thanks to his firm hold.
Astarion glanced around to ensure that you weren't nearby before he mischievously bared his fangs at the baby.
He expected fear or a screech.
But no.
She merely glared at him for a brief moment before bursting into a high-pitched laughter that pierced through his ears and made him wince in pain.
Had it not been for his fast reflexes, she would have had her tiny and prying paws inside his mouth as she tried to reach for his fangs.
“No – these are no toy,” he grumbled in utmost annoyance.
You walked into the room, straightening your dress whilst giving him a taunting glare. “Look at you! Bonding.”
He held the babe as far as he could from his face as she giggled enthusiastically, clearly finding in him some amusement.
He scoffed. “Please. Even the Nine Hells can't be as torturous as this.”
Clicking your tongue, you approached to sweep her into your arms, which caused an infernal reaction from her as she broke into a screech that would put a banshee to shame.
“See? She prefers Uncle Astarion.”
He rolled his eyes, returning his focus on the book had been peacefully enjoying before this unfortunate ordeal.
As you managed to quiet her down by shifting her attention to a stuffed owl bear toy, two soft knocks were heard on the front door.
Finally.
You allowed your friend inside who promptly took her babe in her arms.
“Please tell me she behaved,” she said apologetically. “She's teething and her temper can be overbearing at times.”
“It was no bother. She was absolutely delightful and even bonded with Uncle Astarion.”
She chuckled alongside you.
He could feel a frown grow on his face as she turned to him. “How come you two haven't considered having one of your own?”
Astarion's eyes nearly bulged out.
“Oh, it has never crossed our minds, really,” you immediately blurted out, pinching the babe's cheeks affectionately. “We're better off this way.”
Now that set him off.
“Actually, I have considered it.”
Far more often than he dared admitting, but it was not more than wishful thinking.
He was fortunate enough not to worry about unwanted pregnancies, as being a vampire spawn made the feat nigh impossible.
But he still wondered how you'd look carrying his child.
Especially with you being such the motherly type.
His eyes fell to your heaving chest for a moment, and he vaguely imagined how your breasts would swell.
“Oh? You have?” you sounded more surprised than shocked.
Your friend shifted a glance between you and him. “I'm sure Astarion here would warm up to the idea fast – so to speak.”
How he detested puns.
Once she bid her farewell and you parted ways with a gentle kiss to the babe's temple, he found himself content as silence took over.
“You meant that?”
He pressed the book in his hands closed. “Us having a child?”
You nodded.
“I don't see why not.”
You began undoing the laces of your dress as you paced into the room.
“Well, it's not like we can physically do it.”
Astarion stood on his feet, following you closely behind.
“We can.”
Your head turned abruptly to him. “You're just having a laugh, aren't you?”
Astarion had read enough about half-vampires – dhampirs – to know it wasn't as hard to achieve as one might think.
He would just need to be very persistent and be well fed. 
“It is possible.”
You chuckled. “I think we would be on babe number four if it were truly possible.”
As he walked up behind you, he planted a soft kiss to the nape of your neck, moving his masterful fingers down the lacing of your corset.
He adored having you wear the most exquisite clothes he could embroider for you, but he equally adored helping you get undressed.
Just for him.
“But the real question, darling, is… would you want me to?”
As the corset loosened around you, he could see your breasts expand into fullness.
“Want what?”
The chemise underneath hid most of them from sight, but he could see your nipples faintly protruding against the sheet fabric.
He could feel himself already hardening from the topic of the conversation alone.
“Do you want me to breed you?”
His blunt words made you gasp. “You always come inside, Astarion… and nothing happens.”
Was that disappointment he detected in your voice?
Gods above…
That only served to fuel his lust.
You stepped out of your crimson dress and he shifted languidly until he was on his knees in front of you.
“What are you doing?”
He lifted your chemise just above your navel, and trailed soft kisses along your lower abdomen, feeling you occasionally flinching under his cold lips. 
Your fingers tangled in his curls as a soft gasp left your lips. “Astarion?”
He did his best to ignore the ever-growing twitch against his trousers.
“Maybe we should rectify this predicament.”
You ran the pads of your fingers along his scalp in such a loving manner that he found himself humming in approval as his cold lips began to travel downwards.
“And how could you even do such a thing?”
Oh. You still thought he was bullshitting you?
He glared up at you with half-hooded eyes. “Hold on to that pole and place your leg on my shoulder.”
Astarion took pride in being a giving and caring lover who resorted to words laced with sensuality, to get you all worked up for him.
You arched a brow at him, but held onto the iron rod of the bed canopy while lifting your leg and resting it on his shoulder.
From this new angle, he was able to spot a growing damp spot in your underwear that nearly made him salivate.
The fabric clung to your folds, allowing him to spot the outline of your throbbing swell.
It seemed that your body was already getting ready for what was to come.
Hungrily, he leaned forward to place an open-mouthed kiss on the already damp fabric.
You bucked your hips instinctively against him as he teased your folds with his tongue.
He felt the first drops of precum staining his own clothes, and had no choice but to undo the lacing at the front so he could ease the unbearable strain.
The heel of your foot dug into his back as he kept adding more dampness to your underwear with his saliva, enjoying the sight of the outline of your folds.
With one hand firmly closed around his cock, he moved his lips to your inner thigh, earning a groan of protest from you.
He chuckled against your heated skin, squeezing some more precum from his tip, enjoying how it dribbled down his knuckles.
“Stop teasing…” you groaned, softly tugging at his curls.
But Astarion had something else in mind.
“I should be well fed before attempting this, if the words on those books and scrolls are to be trusted.”
A soft whimper spilled from your mouth and you pulled your underwear to the side with a sigh of relief.
But Astarion found no relief in that as he couldn't tear his eyes away from your soaked folds and the swell that peeked between them.
His cock gave him a warning twitch, as more precum dribbled outs from the tip.
You had broken his concentration with a low blow, but he still managed to part his lips, raking his fangs across the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.
“You've… never….” you gasped in astonishment as the realisation of his intentions hit you.
“There's a first time for everything, darling.”
Unlike your delectable neck, he had no experience catching your pulse in this area, so he had to drag his lips slowly, in search of that rhythmic pulsing that drove him insane.
“Astarion…” you moaned, rolling your hips.
Once he found what he was looking for, he dragged his tongue along the sweet spot before sinking his fangs into it.
He had anticipated you would squirm under his touch, so he anchored you in place by hooking his arm around your thigh.
Astarion reckoned he would never tire of feeling how hard and warm his cock would get whenever he fed on you, your blood rushing through his body like molten fire. 
As he kept downing your blood and keeping you steady, he began to feel the veins that snaked around his cock bulging and he nearly lost it.
Your fingers were still buried in his hair, tugging firmly as your hips rolled on pure instinct.
Through his bloodlust, he managed to shift his gaze only to be met with strings of your wetness dangling from the entrance.
Gods… you were so ready to be bred.
He could feel your arousal.
He could taste it on his tongue.
His hand was doing an adequate job at giving his now heated cock some relief, but he knew he would only find true solace in being buried deep inside you.
Your blood had begun to spill from the corners of his mouth and he felt it trailing down his chin and neck.
With all the willpower he could muster in that moment of blinding hunger, he managed to tear away from you skin, rising to his feet as your leg dropped from his shoulder only to be caught on his arm, effectively keeping you spread for him.
His cock accidentally brushed against the twin marks on your inner thigh, blood coating the leaking tip of his cock.
He let out a hiss as the warm liquid dribbled down his length, mixing with his precum.
Your hand dropped to the back of his neck and you pulled him into a searing kiss, tasting yourself on his soaked lips.
With ease, he shifted closer until the tip of his cock was nudging at your entrance.
You broke the kiss. “Do you think you drank enough?”
His cock twitched violently from the despair in your words.
“There is only one way to find out, darling.”
You licked your lips, jerking your hips to have his tip slide inside.
Then he felt your hand snake in between your bodies until your fingers were wrapped around his length, giving it a trying squeeze.
“You're so, so hard, Astarion…”
Astarion could get even harder just from your praise.
His cock twitched again and he couldn't stop his hips from bucking, gradually burying himself deep within your warmth.
He sank all the way through, bringing his other hand to close around the one you had around the iron rod of the canopy, desperate for support as he thrusted into you.
Soon enough, you had matched his tempo, moving in unison with him.
From this angle, he could see the faint streaks of blood spread around his cock as it spread your folds, allowing him to see how swollen you were for him.
“So eager to be bred, aren't you?” he said in between groans.
You whimpered in response, unbuttoning the front of your chemise.
Astarion nearly came as your bare breasts came into view, swaying with each thrust. Your nipples had hardened completely and he felt his balls tighten.
“I want to see how big they will get.” he moaned more to himself, knowing he was getting closer and closer to his release.
Your mouth fell open but no words came out.
Instead, he felt you squeeze his cock desperately, drawing a primal growl from deep within him.
He truly wanted to know how bigger your breasts would get from carrying his child.
His balls tightened even harder and he felt the familiar wave of overwhelming release wash over his body.
He somehow managed to keep his gaze on your swaying breasts as he spilled deep inside you, feeling his cum shooting rhythmically inside you.
Desperate to feel your own contractions, he placed his thumb between your folds, circling your swell and slowly but surely driving you over the edge.
“Let go, darling…” he urged desperately, wanting the last drops of his seed to be milked out of him forcefully by your contractions.
As your breath quickened and your arms looped around his neck, he knew you were a goner.
You stilled momentarily, rhythmically contracting around him with a gasp.
He glanced down to see the bulging veins along his cock being squeezed as cum began to spill out around him.
Astarion had no idea how much cum he had spilled inside you, but what he did know was that he would gladly spend it all if it meant getting you pregnant with his child.
As you shuddered against him, he placed a soft kiss to your temple.
“Do you think it was enough?”
He chuckled. “I won't stop until it is.”
Tumblr media
Masterlist
2K notes · View notes
halseyhatter · 3 months
Text
your lipstick stain is a work of art
Masterlist
Giving Epel, Leona and Ace a DIY Maison Margiela Kiss Shirt
Warnings: Reader is female
I may have gotten a bit carried away in Leona’s part 😅
Tumblr media
EPEL FELMIER
After listening to another one of Epel’s rants on Vil’s strict training regimen, you came up with a bright idea. Even though you couldn’t see his face due to the way he was spooning you, you could tell from how his rough country accent would get more and more prominent that he was more than annoyed - and thankfully, you knew the best way to cheer him up.
“Hey, Epel,” you piped up, turning your head to look right at him, effectively cutting through his tirade, “that new makeup set that your Dorm Leader gave you? You haven’t opened it yet, right?”
“Uh no,” he scrunched his nose up in confusion, “A hate the stuff.”
“Then can I have the lipstick, please?” 
“Um, sure? I mean, I’m not gonna use it. But why?”
“You’ll see…”
….
The next day, you set your plan into motion. Armed with the sleek black lipstick box that your boyfriend was more than happy to hand over to you and a crisp white shirt you had purchased from Sam’s, you began working on what you supposed was your magnum opus. Once you had finished, ten minutes later, you sent a quick text to Epel, telling him to meet you in your dorm for a ‘surprise’.
When he arrived, he was confused to find you standing at your doorway, dark red tinting your innocent smile, with your hands behind your back. 
“For you,” you chirped, still smiling as you handed him a neatly wrapped box. 
He took it from you slowly and cautiously, suspicious eyes not leaving your face as he searched for any hint of deception. You’ve never given him any reason to be wary of you, or to think that this might all be a prank, but considering you’re best friends with a certain red haired troublemaker, it didn’t hurt to be heedful. 
It was light, very light. He shook it but apart from faint rustling, he couldn’t hear anything that could clue him into what it was. He raised an eyebrow, “what’s in here, doll?”
“You’ll just have to open it and see.”
He ripped open the wrapping paper, letting the torn pieces fall to the floor as he found himself holding a box. Uncovering the lid, he looked down to find a white shirt, carefully folded inside, its collar and entire front covered in lipstick marks - lipstick marks that happen to look suspiciously similar to the shade that you currently wore on your lips right then…
Noticing how his surprise had frozen him, his eyes wise as he appeared entranced at the sight before him, you say, “do you like it? I figured that -”
You didn’t even get to start your explanation, let alone finish it, as you were engulfed by the comforting fragrance of fresh apples and his lips were pressing on yours like his life depended on it and your back was flush against the wall of your entrance passage. One of his hands  clutching the box protectively to his chest and the other flat against the wall right next to your head. You close your eyes and melt against him, letting your arms. When the need for air became more and more apparent, he reluctantly separated himself from you, eyes blazing.
“You have no idea what you do to me.”
“So does that mean you like it?”
His answering kiss said more than enough.
….
You should’ve known that your little surprise would come back to bite you. As cherubic as your boyfriend appeared to be, he was nothing but a demon underneath those soft lavender locks and wide doe eyes.
You were reminded of this the next morning when he strolled into your shared homeroom class, right in the middle of registration.
“Mornin’ sir, sorry I’m late.” 
Beside you, you could hear Ace and Deuce choke on their breaths. The air of the room seemed to be submerged in freezing cold water as you could feel your fellow classmates freeze in their seats, a few of them whisper-shouting expletives of shock. Bewildered by the sudden change in atmosphere, you look up from your book, only to feel the rest of the world still around you and all the blood leave your face.
Standing at the entryway of the classroom was Epel Felmier, his posture upright and proud. He had abandoned his blazer, waistcoat and bowtie, and instead of his usual Schoenheit-approved expensive lacy high-collared shirt, he donned your gift, wearing his lipstick kiss stains like badges of honour. He waltzed into class bearing the grin of a cat that got the cream.  His smug aura was blinding and his confidence was so corporeal that he appeared to be triple his actual size.
“Mr Felmier,” Professor Crewel sternly asked him, years of teaching seeming to prevent him showing any sign of fluster, his eyes ignited with frustration, “what is the meaning of this?”
“My girl happens to be an artist, Professor,” Epel replied easily, “As a student of the dorm that prides itself in appreciating beauty, it would be rude and becoming to not show off her masterpiece.”
All at once, the entire class turned to look at you, their gazes searing, as you stared straight down at your desk, mentally calculating how hard you’d need to bang your head against it for you to end up in a coma. 
Once the Dorm Leader and Vice Dormleader of Pomefiore find out about Epel’s little stunt, you knew that you would be a goner. 
“Henchman, what is he talking about?” Grim demanded.
“Wow, Y/N,” Ace looked at you like you had suddenly grown three heads, “didn’t take you to be that type.”
“And what type would that be?” Deuce instantly came to your defence.
“ENOUGH!” Professor Crewel’s pointer smacked down against his desk, effectively silencing everyone yet again, “Mr Felmier, get to your seat at once. I expect to see you in detention this lunch break for violating the dress code. Rest assured, I will be taking this up with your Dorm Leader. And Miss L/N-” he turned to you with his sharp gaze, whilst Epel didn’t even look the slightest bit perturbed at facing his Dorm Leader’s impending wrath, “please stay behind after the bell rings. I have something to discuss with you.”
“Oh~” Ace muttered under his breath, “looks like papa’s angry.”
Needless to say, Epel managed to spend the rest of the day wearing that shirt. Throughout the entire time, you could feel the other students give you looks ranging from puzzled to amused to knowing.
LEONA KINGSCHOLAR
“Hmmm,” Leona sighs, amusement colouring the guttural resonance, as you press another drawn-out kiss under the sharp curve of his jaw, “not that I’m complaining, herbivore, but what’s with the sudden boldness?”
“Well,” you hum languidly, looking at the lipstick stain you left behind - another one to add to the growing collection you had scattered on his cheeks and lower face - moving your mouth lower to his pulse point and letting your lips linger on his skin before flicking your eyes up to look right into darkened green irises, “considering how you always make a big deal over me wearing your scent, I figured that I’d return the favour - let me mark my territory for a change.”
The smugness radiating off of him was palpable and you ignored the deep, satisfied rumble of his chest as you busy yourself with printing your crimson pattern onto the length of his neck, going lower and lower with every press. 
To be honest, finding yourself straddling his lap from his seat at the edge of his bed, your arms draped over his shoulders and his hands resting firmly onto your lower back, was not exactly what you expected when you entered the Dorm Leader’s bedroom to wake him up for his Spelldrive Club, but it definitely wasn’t an unwelcome change. And you certainly weren’t lying when you made that jab at his shamelessly obvious leonine instincts - the innate predatory need to broadcast to the entire school that you were not to be messed with - with the way he would nose and nuzzle at your neck until he was satisfied, or drape his too large blazer over your shoulders before sending you off to class. Though, if you were being candid, you had the suspicion that his behaviour was less to do with his species and more to do with Leona himself. After suffering through decades of denial, him finally being given what he covets so freely and willingly results in him wanting nothing to latch on and never let go, to hold the object of his affections in his arms to keep and protect and cherish. Of course, you could never complain as for all that he seemed to take from you, he also gave to you tenfold. It takes a great deal of trust for a lion to bare his neck (‘both literally and figuratively,’ you think as your mouth presses against the skin under his ear) and a lion as proud and closed-off as the second prince of Sunset Savanna? A feat like that was almost inconceivable. Even now, his tail is coiled around your leg like a vine of ivy as he let you do as you pleased with absolutely no questions asked.
When you once again come back up from yet another kiss, Leona uses this opportunity to cup your face with his hand, using just the right amount of pressure to to grip onto your jaw and rub his thumb over your cheek. His eyes, though still gleaming with want, melts into something more soft. As a master of strategic brilliance, his proficiency in self control is beyond admirable yet whenever you’re near, he finds himself unraveling. And he loves every second of it. His drinks up the sight of you: the flush of your cheeks, the black of your eyes, the smudged rouge of your lips that he smears even further with the edge of his thumb.
Oh Great Seven, you're perfect.
“Would you look at that,” he murmurs, “my little herbivore’s got a set of claws on her. We’ll go on then.”
You smile back at him before resuming back to your original position.
You run your right hand down from his shoulders, not stopping your mouth's work as your fingers slide down his chest, swiftly and seamlessly hooking and undoing the buttons of his waistcoat. Grabbing onto the lapels of the honey golden material, you deftly push it downwards off of him, exposing the white expanse of his clothed torso as it falls limply onto his elbows. You then kissed the area near his clavicles, where the first button of his shirt had been left undone so that your lipstick stretched over both his tanned chest and the placket. Seeing the glaringly obvious red mark left behind on the pristine white fabric gave you an idea and before you knew it, you pressed dragging kiss after dragging kiss over the collar and upper side of the front of his shirt. 
You managed to only get to above his breast pocket before your boyfriend was dragging you back up and collided your lips together at a speed so fast it left you reeling. Before you could fully compute the change in direction, pounding knocks on the door snapped you out of your vertigo.
“OI, BOSS,” came the annoyed yells of Ruggie, “You were supposed to be at the club meeting five minutes ago. Quit foolin’ around with the prefect and get over here!”
Leona let out an irked growl but he made no move to shift his position, even when the incessant knocking failed to cease, “Okay! Okay! I’m coming. Jeez!”
“Wait,” you say as you get off his lap and watch him stand up, lipstick stains and all, pick up his duffle sports bag and head to the door, “are you leaving? Like that?”
“Why not?” was his unbothered reply.
Now that the spell over the room had been successfully broken and clarity and common sense once again seized control from the haze, the full impact of your actions dropped into your stomach like a lead anvil. With it being mid afternoon, the Savanaclaw common area, let alone the corridors of the school, would be in high traffic. The thought of the other students (and seven forbid the teachers) seeing him covered in marks and knowing exactly who put them there fills you with pure mortification, sending blood rushing upwards and making your cheeks burn.
“What’s this?” he turns around and makes his way over to you, towering over you and smirking down at your abashed and frozen figure, eyebrow raised, “where did my brave little herbivore go? Don’t tell me she’s all talk after the show she just put on.”
It’s settled. You can never show your face around NRC again. Your only options now are to beg Malleus to smite you with lightning or to pull an Idia and live the rest of your life as a hermit.
He slowly leans down and places a tender kiss on your forehead, whispering over your skin, “Don’t think that this is over. When I come back, I’ll show you how territory is truly marked. You better be prepared.”
He then saunters off, his bag slung over his shoulder, as he opens the door without a care in the world. You can faintly hear Ruggie’s deep inhale before a “WHAT THE HELL?!” fills your ears.
You should’ve known that you could never one up a predator.
(yes, I know that realistically it would be impossible for one application of lipstick to last that long but let me have this)
ACE TRAPPOLA 
It was when you heard the bathroom door slam shut, followed by the sound of your shower head spraying water, that the idea came to you. Knowing Ace, he would spend at least ten minutes in your shower since he liked to make use of the privacy and alone time that Ramshackle provides and his dorm denies. Or at least, that's his go-to excuse when asked why he spends more time sleeping over at your dorm instead of the one he was sorted into. 
Sending a playful smile to the door that separated the two of you, you slowly and quietly got out of bed so as to not disturb Grim (who still insisted on sleeping next to you, even after Ace became a staple in your life. You agreed with him, despite Ace’s annoyed refutes, simply stating that Grim and you would sleep together before your relationship and you weren’t planning on stopping that) and made your way to your closet where you kept one of Ace’s school shirts to prepare you for the occasion where he forgets to bring one. You then rustled through your drawers and pulled out a cylindrical stick of lipstick and got to work. Thankfully you had finished applying and kissing his shirt by the time he was done showering and was dressed and ready so when he entered your bedroom and was greeted by the sight of you wearing a mischievous grin, alarm bells started ringing.
“Hey, babe?” he asks with trepidation, “what do you have behind your back?”
“Nothing,” you answer lightly.
“Oh really?” and he swipes behind you but you dodge in the nick of time. Luckily for him, his fine-tuned basketball reflexes put him at an advantage and in no time at all, he’s got you pinned on your bed, with him sitting on top of you, legs straddled on either side of your hips, and you lying beneath him. In his hands he triumphantly holds your surprise. He unfurls the white fabric and holds it out in front of him with - and then almost drops it onto your face as red blooms across his nose and cheeks when he realises what he’s looking at
He looks at the shirt then at you then the shirt and you in quick succession, taking note as to how your lips appear to be the same shade as the marks on his shirt.
Scrambling together and haphazardly picking up what’s left of his bearings, he attempts to throw on his usual cocksure smirk but his still cherry red countenance betrays his flustered visage, “so what’s this, then.”
“A shirt,” you respond. 
“Looks like you made a lot of effort with this, sweetheart,” he muses, his eyes bright and jaunty, “are you so obsessed with me that you need to mark me up?”
“I thought it would be a fun prank. But seeing that you don’t seem to like it-” you make a move to grab at it but Ace holds both of your wrists down with one hand.
“Hey, who’s saying I don’t like it?!” he argues defiantly, “this has got to be the best present I’ve ever gotten.”
“Really?” you ask, eyebrow raised in amusement.
“Really,” he nods and then looks down at you mischievously, “why don’t I show you how much I like it?”
He then leans down and captures your lips with his and for the nth time of his life, Grim wishes that you were still single.
BONUS FOR ACE BECAUSE I LOVE HIM:
Ace then spends the next ten minutes trying to convince you to do the same to his basketball jersey
You know this boy decided to wear that shirt to the next Unbirthday party, relishing in his dormmates’ stares, the sound of crashing silverware, and the sights of your mortified expression, Cater’s phone recording everything and Riddle’s reddening face.
Poor Deuce goes bright pink and refuses to look at you for the next hour.
Honestly the lecture was so worth it. The collar and heaping and heaping of chores, not so much but he would totally do it again.
Yeah, it turns out that wearing a lipstick stained shirt isn’t technically against the rules and our resident rule-breaker definitely exploits that loophole. You know that rule where you have to wear pink when feeding the flamingos? Nowhere does it say that he’s not allowed to buy a light pink shirt that’s covered in hot pink kiss marks (you went along with this half because you wanted to stop his whining and half because you wanted to mess with his dorm leader for collaring Grim the day before)
Since you forbade him from wearing that shirt in public (for NRC’s collective sanity, Riddle’s vocal cords and Heartslabyul’s auditory abilities) Ace makes it a point to hang up that shirt on the door of his wardrobe in his dormitory so that he can brag about it to ‘the miserable and jealous singles’ he shares his living space with (RIP Deuce and the other Heartslabyul NPCs)
He also bought a few more shirts and begged asked you to do the same to them
That shirt is his new favourite thing of all time. He’s even changed his phone’s wallpaper and his Magicam icon (both of which used to be a selfie of you kissing his cheek as he smiles at the camera) to a mirror selfie of him wearing the shirt and you posing next to him.
979 notes · View notes
halseyhatter · 6 months
Text
in the moonlight (my darling, do not fear)
Tumblr media
pairing: astarion/tav wordcount: 4184 content warnings: mentions of injuries, no in-depth descriptions, minor spoilers for astarion's act ii romance other tags: canon-typical violence, canon complaint, hurt/comfort, whump, developing relationship, love confessions, gender neutral tav, elf!tav archiveofourown: here. sentence prompt: "you're like a sickness, a disease, and the only way for me to be cured of you is to let you completely consume me until my body has no fight left." — from here. summary: defeating the orthon is no small task. the hardest part is what comes after.
Tumblr media
‘No!’ he shouts, and it’s so loud it echoes on the edges of your mind. ‘You can’t die.’
I’m not dying, you think but the words never leave your lips. In the depths of your consciousness, you can faintly remember the battle with the Orthon. Karlach had killed the displacer beast, hadn’t she? Shadowheart had blinded the Merregon… You remember violent flashes of light and the shaking of the Gauntlet. Trying to remember takes too much energy, and thinking about opening your eyes makes your stomach roll.
‘Get up, damn you!’ Astarion snaps harshly.
He paws at your desperately, shifting rock and ruin, and when he presses his hands to your side, stars flutter behind your eyelids so violently all you can do is moan. It’s your turn to shove at him. You push at his hands and feel your fingers glide against his skin. But I’m too tired, you want to say. I just want to sleep, to dream. Eventually, you give up your fight and relax into the darkness. Maybe when you awaken, the illithid parasite will be gone and you will be cured. You can only hope that it comes true.
Astarion has other plans for you. He curses your name so sweet it could be a perfectly mulled wine and leans forward. His ear tickles your lips, and whatever he hears come from it is enough to make him heave out a relieved sob. His hands are on your face again. His fingers are sticky, and they smell like powder. He jostles you so violently that you groan against your will, but it doesn’t seem to matter much to him.
Astarion rests his head against your chest right where your broken collarbone has begun to throb. You struggle to open your eyes and stare at the roof above you, but you don’t see the familiar ceiling of Shar’s Temple. The celestial glowing swirls have been blocked from sight by ugly granite floors. If you really put your mind to it, you can recognize Karlach’s desperate cries on the other side.
‘What happened?’ you whisper.
‘You were supposed to jump down!’ Astarion snarls. ‘Gods, why didn’t you jump down!’
The panic in his voice is enough to make you try harder to retrace your memories. You had plunged your blade into Yurgir’s chest but couldn’t manage to pull it out. It hadn’t killed him. Yurgir had laughed at you, had laughed at your friends  —  He had never hated anyone more at that moment.
It had taken the blade you kept on your hip to finally kill Yurgir. He had dropped bombs, you recall. It comes back to you easily now. Astarion had been right behind you and was going to follow you down, but you were so wounded he insisted on helping you jump away from the bombs before they exploded. But you hated heights, you hated the feeling of falling.
‘Scared,’ you admit.
‘Ha! Scared!’ Astarion repeats, tone pitching up in his hysteria. ‘Karlach was going to catch you!’
‘I couldn’t,’ you say. ‘I was scared. I couldn’t jump, I couldn’t do it. I’m sorry, Astarion.’
A shaky sob escapes his lips. ‘Don’t be sorry, my love,’ he whispers. ‘Don’t close your eyes again.’
A shudder of exhaustion runs throughout your body. You want to ask questions. You can feel them on the tip of your tongue, but moving your jaw is more work than you’re currently cut out for. Without craning your neck, you try to assess the damage.
The displacer beast’s claws had torn your sleeve. You remember how its teeth snapped shut close to your face, and how now matter how hard you tried to push it away, its thick neck kept you from escaping. Shadowheart had distracted it with a clone. Desperation had pushed you to follow Karlach up the steps so that you could fight the Orthon. For Raphael’s contract. For Astarion.
You do as you were commanded. You stare at the shaking, makeshift rooftop and blink dust from your eyes as it filters down like mocking snow. Astarion’s head feels particularly heavy at this moment. With a sudden, horrified realization, you fully come to terms with the situation you’ve found yourself in.
You are lying in a puddle of your own blood and too broken to move. Half of the floor you were standing on has fallen beneath you and blocked you from your allies, and the only one at your side is Astarion. It must be like death itself to sit there surrounded by blood while injured. He could heal himself if he drank. You raise your good hand and place it against his white-silver curls.
‘I know I usually offer first,’ you say sheepishly. ‘But if you need a drink  —  ’
‘Have you lost your gods-damned mind?’ Astarion hisses.
Before you can say anything else, he sits up and leans over you. You are easily distracted by his beautiful, marble-like complexion which is marred by the dirt and dust and blood. He’s beautiful.
Astarion’s cerise eyes are frantic. ‘I do not mean to alarm you, but you are dying.’
Like the ceiling’s fate above them, the reality of the situation comes crashing miserably down on top of you. Shadowheart’s spells cannot penetrate the wall that has come between you. You realize it now. You press your hand against the hole in your side delicately and laugh a little, staring at your fingers coated with blood. You close your eyes, but Astarion’s distressed whine has you search frantically for his face.
‘I’m sorry,’ you whisper, horrified. ‘I’m sorry. I’m  —  Do not hate me.’
‘Please,’ Astarion begs. ‘Just stay awake. Stay with me. Karlach is trying to get through; All you have to do is stay awake, please.’
You search his face for some hint of comfort, but it’s hard to see through the dark spots knotting in your vision. You do your best to push away the panic, to force the tears back into your eyes. You don’t want to die, not yet. Raphael still has to translate the runes on Astarion’s back. Shadowheart wants to finish the gauntlet. You want to save Karlach’s heart, to absolve Wyll’s pact, to save Gale. Selfishly, you want to kiss Astarion again without any of that which comes after. You want to savor the weight of his mouth against yours.
‘I’m sorry,’ you tell him again. You swallow harshly. ‘This must be like torture for you.’
Astarion chuckles hoarsely. ‘While you are very tantalizing, this is…nothing compared to two hundred years.’
You smile faintly. Two hundred years of carrion, and now you are laid out in front of him as delicious and forbidden as the feast Raphael offered you once. He ducks out of your view to lay his head on your chest. Though he tries to hide it, you can feel the little shudders of his sobs.
I’m sorry, you think to the ceiling. The weight of Astarion’s head against your shoulder is agonizing to your broken collarbone, but whatever he is doing, he is doing it with such reverence it reminds you of the religious devout and their steadfast adherence to their god.
He burrows his face into your chest, careful to stay small over you, to be mindful of your condition. He tries to balance his breathing so that it’s quieter and less disruptive, but no matter how hard he tries, he cannot quell the frightened way his shoulders jump. You close your eyes for a moment just to memorize the sight of it.
‘No,’ he says suddenly, sitting up. ‘You promised. You cannot die, I forbid it. You said you would protect me, and you cannot do that if you are  —  Speak to me, damn you!’
‘’m awake,’ you say tiredly. ‘I’m not going anywhere.’
‘You cannot,’ Astarion insists.
‘Next time,’ you say, ‘I will jump.’
Astarion shakes his head, and little drops of his tears rain down on your skin. ‘It isn’t the smell of you that makes it hard,’ he confesses brokenly. ‘It isn’t even about the damned Infernal runes. It’s you, everything about you. What is left for a disease like me when someone like you goes away?’
‘You will lead them,’ you tell him.
Astarion’s nose wrinkles at the idea. ‘I am not particularly interested in being the face of a revolution,’ he says. ‘No matter how beautiful I am. I am still a sickness, a beast. You are the only one good enough to lead us.’
‘You are like a sickness, then. A horrible disease,’ you say, mindful of the way his eyes narrow. ‘The only way for me to be cured of you  —  to be the cure for you, is to let you consume me until my body has no fight left, Astarion.’
‘How dare you,’ he says with a coquettish shrug.
You can hear Karlach slowly working through the rest of the rubble now. You hate to feel too hopeful, but you can almost hear the sound of the shattered floor breaking free. They were coming to save you, to save him.
‘That was rather poetic, you know,’ Astarion tells you. He watches your face intently as if afraid he’ll miss out on something exceptional. ‘You’ve never been one to use such gorgeous words.’
‘I wanted to,’ you say softly. ‘For you, my love.’
Astarion’s eyes widen as those words fall seamlessly from your lips. You aren’t sure if he meant to say them earlier. After all, he’s only ever been fond of calling you darling or a delectable little treat, treating you recklessly with careful honeyed words. As if getting any closer to you might coax him into accidental oblivion where your name might leave his lips thus solidifying you as something to be treated with care. A pomegranate seed between his teeth.
The shock doesn’t stay for long. Your eyelashes flutter though you fight against it. The decaying darkness around your vision has almost reached the center. You cry faintly and press a hand against your side, horrified that your blood is still pouring from you even if it is slower now. Perhaps you are running out of blood. You want to tell Astarion to drink it all up before it’s mixed with the sulfur and ash, but words are hard to form. Your heart skips a beat.
Don’t let me go to waste, you beg helplessly, reaching out to his mind when yours is all but gone. A heart-wrenching sob erupts from his chest. When you next awake, there is relatively less action than what was happening before. There are no violent tremors of a floor threatening to collapse. The sound of frantic shoving is absent. There’s only a dim hum in your ears, and the sound of a hushed fire burning well into the evening. You slowly open your eyes and blink away your sleepiness.
Shadowheart’s healing spell still hovers over you, but she’s not in your tent so she must be concentrating somewhere else. Your collarbone still smarts and you can definitely feel every single bruise you’ve ever received in your life, but you feel stronger, fuller. You reach a hand as if to inspect the wound at your side again and find the skin there is closed now.
‘You’re awake,’ Astarion says softly. ‘Thank the gods.’
You sit up quickly and feel the world turn sideways for it. Lightning dances along the back of your eyes as you try to steady yourself, and Astarion reaches out to ground you as you sway back and forth. You wonder just how long he’s been sitting there in your tent waiting for you. Your head throbs faintly once you manage to open your eyes.
‘Thank the gods,’ you echo breathlessly. ‘You brought me back?’
Astarion grimaces as though embarrassed. ‘I wasn’t the one who carried you back to camp, no,’ he says almost petulantly. ‘You’ll have to thank Karlach for that. But I have sat here since then, I must admit.’
‘Everyone  —  ’
‘Everyone else is fine,’ Astarion interrupts. ‘Halsin aided Shadowheart in your healing. Gale procured herbs, Wyll kept vigil at camp while you slumbered. It was all very twee. You’ll be sad you missed it.’
Astarion raises his chin much like a cat who desires petting. He would never admit it, but you can see it on his face. He’s relieved. If he were anyone else, he might weep for joy at seeing you awake again. It isn’t who he is, so you settle for knowing that he has not left your side since you escaped the Gauntlet.
You sit up further and wave your hand through Shadowheart’s healing spell. It doesn’t disperse as much as you wish, but you ignore it, crawling across your lumpy bedroll so you can wrap your arms slowly around Astarion’s neck. He freezes beneath your touch and begins sputtering, but then you feel his arms wrap around your waist. He burrows his face in the side of your neck.
‘I’m sorry for scaring you,’ you mumble against his ear.
You hear him swallow. ‘I’m not apologizing for yelling at you, if that’s what you want.’
‘I would never ask you to,’ you insist.
Before, you thought it would be a small hug. Something to show your thanks to him. You loosen your arms around him so that he can pull away, but if anything, Astarion drags you closer to him. He hides his face in the spot beneath your ear and inhales deeply, memorizing your healthy scent intently.
The hug lasts longer than you thought it would. It’s almost as healing as the magic, too. You hold Astarion as close to you as he will allow, rubbing circles and tracing his curls at the nape of his neck as if to promise that you will never leave again. You decide to sniff him tentatively as well, and beneath the dirt and ash from the collapse, he still smells like Astarion.
You startle a little when you feel his hand tuck beneath your shirt, his fingers reaching to touch a hint of your bare skin. Someone was kind enough to drag the heavier armor from you, but you still have your bloodied shirt on. Astarion’s cool touch is welcome against your aching spine.
‘I thought,’ he says slowly, ‘that you had sentenced me to a lifetime of loneliness again when you were felled earlier. At first, I was so angry that I thought I might hate you for your mistake. I wanted to kill you myself once the dust had settled.’
‘Astarion  —  ’ you start to say, hopeless apologies on your tongue.
‘You will let me finish,’ Astarion says harshly, though he nuzzles you. ‘Elves reincarnate, but how long does it take? How many years would I be forced to wait before I caught the scent of you on the wind?’
You’re freed from his grasp, but you aren’t allowed to escape far. You both kneel in your tent, one of his hands on the back of your head, the other at the side of your waist where your skin had been ripped open before. Astarion allows you to see him for who he truly is. His eyes are soft, weak when he stares deep into your eyes like he’s afraid he’ll forget you.
‘You have made this sinner a worshiper, though it’s no gods I am on my knees for,’ Astarion says to you. ‘The only hymn I care to rehearse is your heartbeat. The only prayer is your name. I begged the gods for years that they would save me, but you are the only divine who has answered my call.’
Your breath catches in your throat.
Astarion presses his hip into yours. ‘I wanted to wait to tell you,’ he says with a miserable shake of his head. ‘To think more.’
‘You still can  —  ’
‘I cannot,’ he admits. ‘When I close my eyes, all I see is your body beneath mine with your life’s blood spilling from you. You begged me to devour you.’
‘I wanted you to be strong,’ you admit. ‘Before, you told me you were only allowed to dine on creatures who couldn’t think. Who knows how long your strength would have lasted…’
His eyes seem to contain infinite sadness. You try to be intent with your words, but you’re distracted by the way he releases his head to palm your chest, pushing his fingers so forcefully skin it’s as though he’s determined to dig through your flesh to grip your heart in his hand. You’d allow him if he asked.
‘You are so self-sacrificing it’s insulting,’ Astarion snorts. ‘Do you think I would have continued in this realm without you? Never have I felt so selfishly about someone before.’
Carefully, almost as if he’s never done it before, Astarion leans forward and presses his lips against yours gently. All you can think about is his overwhelming devotion even as you respond to the kiss, melting against the touch. You hadn’t realized how much you missed this.
And you do miss it. You hate being in the Shadow-Cursed Lands more than you hate the lift in the mountains. Everything is dark and dreary and dead, and your companions are prone to being even more distant and distressed than they were before. You feel as though you are of little hope.
But Astarion kisses you now like a man who is breathing air for the first time. His mouth is hungry and insistent, and his hands cling to your skin more than he’s ever clung to you before. It causes you to blush. It’s unlike him to show such desperation. He’s willing, open, honest  —  yet this kiss is so different from the ones you experienced before. It’s almost chaste. He kisses you like a knight would kiss his charge.
‘But I want this,’ he whispers, breath ragged against your cheek. ‘I want you.’
‘Astarion,’ you murmur. That's all you can say.
He presses his nose against your jaw. ‘Whatever my intentions were before, to the hells with them,’ he says harshly. ‘I want us to be something real, something true if you’ll have me. It’s what you deserve.’
‘I do,’ you confess, almost embarrassed. ‘You must’ve known how silly I felt pestering you. You were the first person I sought out when I returned to camp.’
‘You did have a rather obvious air of desperation about you,’ Astarion says with a small laugh.
‘But I wanted you to come to me of your own accord,’ you continue. You touch the edge of his collar. ‘I lacked confidence. I did not want to force you into something knowing your history.’
He kisses you again. This time, it is a little less chaste. Astarion is determined to devour you, mind, body, and soul. His hands wander as though they’ve never felt your body before, and there’s something anguished about the way he returns to cradling the back of your neck. Your mouth is nothing but a scripture he is determined to practice.
You feel drunk with exhaustion. Having been settled between death and undeath for so long has left you feeling as though there is nothing in your sinew, and Astarion is making matters worse. Your head is filled with nothing but him and his unpredictable mercy. You cling to his shirt and struggle.
What have you done to deserve such boundless devotion? You have listened to, and pleaded with, every emotion he has given you. You’ve taken and given and created anew. Now Astarion becomes. Everything you have given him evolves to become this. When he is finally finished memorizing your mouth, he pulls away and confronts you with barely concealed hunger.
‘Say it,’ he begs desperately. ‘Say you want me too.’
‘I want you,’ you say. ‘Gods, you must know this. There’s nothing I want more.’
‘I wanted to manipulate you,’ he says, horrified. He hides in the crook of your jaw. ‘I wanted to use you as a shield, someone to stand behind.’
‘I am not a very big shield,’ you say.
He doesn’t laugh. ‘I was going to do what I had done before,’ he says. ‘Use your emotions for me as a weapon, but  —  I never want to see you near another weapon for as long as we live. Do you understand?’
You press a kiss to his hair. ‘Shall I stand behind you now?’
Astarion does laugh at that. He faces you fully now, hands cupping your cheeks. ‘You may as well be regulated to nothing but camp duty. You find a place for us to rest, you sew our clothes up when they come back with holes in them. I’d say you could make dinner, but…’
You brush a lock of his silver hair away from his eyes and run your thumbs against the swelling. He’s just as exhausted as you are even if he has yet to admit it. The building’s collapse has left him equally as tired. You encourage him to lay down with you, and he does, curling at your side with his head on your chest.
‘Will you be our fearsome party leader?’ you ask. You close your eyes and try to imagine it.
‘Oh yes,’ he swears solemnly for your sake. ‘I will hold the map and point us in the correct direction. Hopefully my leadership will lead us away from Shadow-Cursed things and back to the streets of Baldur’s Gate. I am so ferocious that whoever controls these parasites will give up upon seeing my muscles.’
You try to imagine your life without the tadpole. It seems relatively empty without Shadowheart and Lae’zel’s bickering, and you would miss the way Halsin and Gale are prone to rambling on about whatever is holding their interest at the time. You’d miss Karlach and her boundless enthusiasm for dancing. You’d miss Wyll, too. You’d miss the way he always watches your back.
Would you have met them in Baldur’s Gate? Would Astarion have picked up your scent and chased you down an alleyway intent on drinking your blood? He would be as he was before, angry and cruel and distant. For a moment, you’re almost grateful that the mindflayers had kidnapped you that morning. The circumstances surrounding it were dire, and you hated the gross wiggling the worm was prone to doing when it wanted you to be authoritative, but you would miss them.
‘I don’t regret it, you know,’ you say suddenly.
‘You do not regret what, exactly?’ Astarion asks. ‘Getting blown up and nearly dying? You should.’
You snort despite your best attempts not to. You press your palms against your eyes and try to keep from laughing too hard. For what it’s worth, Astarion does let out a small chuckle. You can hear his frown.
‘Aye,’ you relent. ‘I suppose I do regret nearly dying and. I don’t regret what came before it. If Raphael asked me to strike down all of the gods so that he would translate your back, I would do it without asking a question. You deserve to know.’
‘I cannot overstate how…appreciative I am of that,’ Astarion says finally. ‘But, just so you know, I would do the same for you without question. I have most of the time. I trust at least a third of your decisions.’
‘All of the decisions I make,’ you begin.
But Astarion interrupts, ‘I am sure you make them with everyone’s best interest in mind. Sometimes it works out. Sometimes you end up blown to bits.’
‘I do not regret letting you feed from me,’ you say, pretending he never opened his mouth. ‘I do not regret the silly way I fell into your honeyed words. I do not regret killing the Orthon. I do not regret you.’
‘We’ve barely just begun.’
You swallow. ‘And I will see it through until the end of time,’ you say. You’re fully aware that it’s too soon to make sweeping grand declarations of love, but you can’t stop yourself from saying. ‘You will never be alone again.’
You take Astarion’s silence in stride. You want him to know that he isn’t the only one capable of saying disgustingly romantic things. In the wake of your unconsciousness, you feel a rush of things you haven’t felt in quite some time. Life felt dreary in the mountains and worse in the Underdark. You hate when your world feels as though it’s crushing you. Now, even in the dark, it’s as if the sun shines on your face.
‘I love you,’ you say.
‘Say it again.’
‘I love you,’ you repeat, this time with more meaning. You try to roll onto your side, but your shoulder fusses too much. ‘I want you, and I want this. Forever.’
‘Forever,’ Astarion repeats, a sense of wonder entering his voice as he toys with the taste of it on his tongue. Once again, he sits above you, his head pressed against your chest, shaking as he listens to the sound of your heartbeat beneath your skin. ‘I like the sound of that.’ You smile at the sound of a purr in his voice, and allow yourself to imagine what forever means.
2K notes · View notes
halseyhatter · 7 months
Text
WHEN THE BROTHERS SAVE MC
A scenario where you find yourself in the middle of trouble against demons who would either want to eat you, ruin the exchange program, and the list goes on. Sometimes, they don’t even need a reason to hurt you. Thankfully, one of the brothers arrives in time before it could get worse. Or tldr, the brothers SNAP as they save you
TW: implied torture and violence note: It’s funny because by the time I finished Satan’s part, there’s a chat on my Obey Me about MC getting full marks on their Curses and Hexes subject because of him and I think it’s a funny coincidence it's like the game can hear me. ------------
Lucifer
In his meeting with Diavolo, they both speculated that a faction must be growing against him, and the best way to sabotage the royal prince is to destroy the exchange program after all. 
Lucifer knows that Solomon can handle himself, but you? He’s not so confident. Sure, you can wield magic and form pacts, but there’s a long way to go and stronger enemies to face. You still didn't have the ability to summon them when you needed it without borrowing magic from the sorcerer. 
So when he heard that you haven’t been home and they couldn’t find you anywhere? His heart was banging in his ears. 
You were in charge of dinner for tonight and went out to buy some food to cater to everyone’s requests. But it’s been how many hours since you’ve left and no one can seem to contact you. Mammon went to fetch you from the grocery where you usually buy what you need, only to find your cracked D.D.D. on the ground along with some blood stains.
Lucifer immediately notifies Lord Diavolo and summons all his brothers. The aura around him is intense and his presence is demanding, rightfully so when the human under his protection suddenly went missing. 
“I want EVERYONE to find them. We are not stopping until they are safe and sound in the House. Even if our hands get dirty. Understood?” He demands, and the brothers are happy to obey with that last part.
They were willing to tear apart the entirety of Devildom just to find you. 
Lucifer ends up finding a lead first, after torturing the poor rebel he found in the dark woods to locate the hideout. He heads straight in while his brothers take care of the rest of the demons. 
You were chained by two guards in a cell. The leader wanted to have you killed in front of the royal prince, to see the horrified look on Diavolo’s face, so he kept you alive long enough.
However, Lucifer barges in the cell, with the head of the leader at his hand before tossing it aside. There is no shred of mercy in his eyes. 
“Let them go. That is an order.” 
In a blink of an eye, the demons are nothing but a puddle of red, and Lucifer is already next to you trying to undo your chains.
“Just look at me, MC. Look into my eyes.” he didn’t want you to see the leftover gore. 
With the injuries and bruises on your skin, he can tell you tried to put up a fight when you were being taken. 
“MC… I’m sorry, I couldn’t get to you sooner. But I’m here now. You’re safe in my arms, so rest…”
All the stress and tension he was feeling was gone the moment you sank into his arms, and he embraced you for as long as he could. As if you’d disappear again if he lets go. 
You don’t care about the blood staining his clothes, or the screams coming from the demons outside the cell you were in. You are safe now. 
One of the largest enemy forces against Diavolo disappeared in a single night.
Mammon
A couple weeks ago, he suffered a really bad losing streak during his gambling nights. And he pissed off the big guys more since he tried to cheat his way out of it, before running away from the illegal casino with the money. 
He spent the next few days suffering from Lucifer’s punishments when he was caught, and hiding from those demons he owed money to. 
One night he receives a letter, with a very familiar stamp on it. He wanted to throw it away until he saw red stains on the envelope, so he opened it. 
“I’ll take away your greatest treasure if you don’t give me back my money.” Was written in blood. Your blood. 
He panics when he realizes that he hasn’t seen you since you both left RAD. You went home ahead since he still had to do cleaning duties in the classroom as part of Lucifer’s punishment, but he found it odd that you weren’t in your room. Now he knows why. 
He desperately tries to contact you, calls are left unanswered and text messages are filling up the inbox you haven’t opened. 
There was only one place he knew they’d take you, so he quickly runs to the casino where he last gambled.
Maybe it wasn’t wise of him to run off on his own, since he found himself surrounded by demons and that you were nothing but bait to lure him in their trap. 
But he is the Avatar of Greed, and if they thought that a bunch of lesser demons could get in his way then they are about to be reminded of how wrong they are. 
Mammon doesn’t seem so intimidating given his reputation, but that doesn’t mean he won't drive his fist through the demon’s skulls when they threaten your life as payment for measly debts. You’re priceless to him, and those threats are nothing but insulting. 
The demons that took you held you in a vault so you wouldn’t escape, and you watched as Mammon practically pulled the iron door apart to open it. 
He was panting, already in his demon form. He was drenched in blood and a bit bruised, though some wounds were already healing and while others had completely vanished. He didn’t care about those though when he saw you.
“MC! Y-your arm is bleeding!” He rushed as if you were gravely injured. Humans are fragile after all. He won’t listen to you even if you said you were fine as he checks you for any other injuries. 
He doesn’t admit that he worried, but you saw the fear from his eyes that was washed over with relief when he finally found you. 
He stopped making risky gambles and bets out of fear that more demons would target you as compensation. He also became more protective, if that was even possible in the first place. As long as he’s alive, he’ll make sure your safety is now his priority.
Levi
The only way you could bring Levi outside was if you offered to play that new AR Game. Mononoke Land was all the hype right now, so asking him to go out so you can catch spirits was perfect. 
You both had a blast going around town, at least this way you get to explore some parts of Devildom with Levi and enjoy his company.
You both stopped by a lake, since your human stamina can’t catch up to Levi who hasn’t sat down for a single second just so he could catch spirits that appeared on his phone. 
“MC look! I’ve never had this one before!” He was so excited to show you what he caught but when he turned around, you weren’t there on the spot he left you “MC?” 
Surely you wouldn’t ditch him here right? He did feel bad that he spent more time focusing on the game than paying attention to you, since you were the one who invited him out after all. 
He could hear the splashing of water and finds you walking in the middle of the lake, lured in by a siren’s song. Those kinds of things don't work on Levi, but he forgot how effective it was on human ears that you were immediately put under its spell. 
Quickly, Levi transformed and jumped into the lake. He never knew that these waters were infested with sea dwelling demons and sirens until he saw them trying to drag you into the lake. He regrets not paying more attention to where the game brought you both to. 
Luckily he’s the best among the brothers when it comes to the waters, so he was quick to save you when the siren started dragging you deeper in the water to drown you. 
It wouldn’t want to let you go and it intended to bring Levi down with it, so with a quick flick of his tail, the water started staining red. Not exactly a good idea when it started attracting more demons towards you both. 
You were unconscious from the siren’s song, and Levi doesn’t want to expose you to more harm than necessary. He brings you to shore to keep you safe, before diving back in to slaughter the rest of the fish.
These sea dwellers are nothing but shrimp compared to Levi, the Grand Admiral of Hell's Navy. Water is his element and he is quick to tear them to shreds when any of them tried to get to you. 
You wake up to Levi shaking you, both of you drenched from head to toe. You don’t remember what happened, the last thing you recall was hearing someone sing and it all blacked out. 
He wraps his arms and tail around you tightly “D-dont scare me like that MC! Jeez… this is why we should shut ourselves indoors…” 
He doesn’t want to tell you what happened. But the blood red lake is all you need to know what transpired. 
Satan
You both decided to have a small study session together in the library. You were struggling a bit with the subject of Curses and Hexes, and Satan is more than happy enough to teach you the basics. 
Satan always talks about his pranks with Lucifer that revolve around curses, plus he’s the most knowledgeable out of the brothers so he was the perfect fit for a tutor. 
It was unlike you to be late for your study sessions though. Satan has been waiting for a while now in the library, long enough for him to stand up and search for you. He memorized your schedule, so he knew which classrooms to search in.  
Before he could even enter the room, he could hear a lot of mockery and laughter. But the voice he could recognize was from you, and you sounded hurt. He wasted no time barging in. 
You were just on your way to the library to meet up with Satan, until two demons from your class cornered you. They poked fun of your grades, despite the fact you’ve only been learning for a few months. They said awful things, and called you insulting names to the point tears threatened to fall. 
“Pathetic human, can’t even master something as basic as this. You’re nothing without the demon lords. Why don’t we give you a hands-on learning experience about curses?”
Before they could even chant a single phrase, Satan barged in his full demon form, the impact from slamming the door was enough to crack the walls around it.
“Say one more word from your mouth, and I’ll rip that jaw of yours off your head and fill up your throat with your teeth.” He threatened as he made a beeline towards you, kneeling down to face you.
“Mc… oh kitten, please know that nothing they’ve said is true. You don’t have to be perfect in everything, even in grades, to impress me.” He was so gentle with you, wiping the tears from your eyes with his thumb. 
“I’ll have one of my brothers pick you up, okay? I just need to teach a certain demon a hands-on lesson.” he escorts you out of the classroom before he closes the door behind him. You hear the click of the lock, and just as you reached the end of the hallway you heard a lot of screaming. 
He may be the secretary of the student council, but his wrath knows no patience. He’s not waiting for an order from Lucifer or Diavolo, not when he can show these demons what to expect when they mess with his precious human.
When he gets home, he checks you for any wounds. Claw marks and scratches ran across your skin, and it took all his self control not to go back to RAD and finish what he started. But he tends to you first, kissing each wound and tears as he comforts you. 
Satan spent the next few days reminding you that you’re special to him. He would whisper sweet nothings to you when you two are alone. “If you need my help, please never hesitate to reach out to me. It brings me joy whenever I can offer you my assistance.”
Whenever you ask him why the demons are constantly coughing out frogs if they try to approach you, Satan would just smile and deny it. 
“Maybe they got cursed? Who knows.” 
Asmo
Asmo wanted to take you shopping for make-up today. He insisted on giving you a makeover and after you finally said yes, he wanted to take you to several stores to see which kinds would suit your complexion best.  
You were in charge of carrying all the products that Asmo bought for you as he dragged you to another store. Most of the time though, you would sit down waiting for him to finish retouching his makeup. Every time he makes eye contact with himself in the mirror, he would take out his powder, lipstick, or comb to make sure he stays perfect.
Both of you were unaware of a succubi that’s been following you ever since you got to the mall. She has been boiling with jealousy because ever since you showed up, you were the point of all of Asmo’s attention. But now you’re all alone, a perfect time to see for herself who her rival is. 
You feel sharp nails grab the hair from the back of your head, and instinctively you drop all the bags at hand to try to pry off whoever was holding you. She yanks and pulls your head back as she hissed.
“I can’t believe that the Avatar of Lust fell for such an ugly human like you. Even laying my eyes on you makes me sick! I don’t see what he loves so much about you.”
“Then maybe you don’t need those eyes after all darling.” You hear Asmo from behind, but you can’t turn your head to his direction. Not while the succubi still has a grip on your hair.
It didn’t last though, you felt the grip loosened and heard a blood curdling scream. You wanted to turn to look at what’s happening behind you but Asmo stopped you “Sweetie, please don’t turn around. I don’t want you to see me all… messy.” 
You focus on picking up the bags that you dropped, trying to ignore the screaming and growing puddle of red that’s bleeding through the tiles. 
Asmo wraps an arm around you after you grab everything, taking you away from the scene. He still has that cheerful smile on his face and was somehow spotless from head to toe, as if nothing happened. The only evidence is the blood if he must’ve forgotten to remove under his nail polished fingernails. 
Remembering all those words, you insisted that you both go home now and Asmo agreed. He’s a little pouty seeing your frown, it’s not a good look on you. He’s tired of seeing that look on your face whenever you look at yourself in the mirror, which is why he wanted to bring you here today. If only that demon didn’t have to come and ruin it. 
“Darling… You know that you’re beautiful right? And I’m not saying that just because. I have exquisite taste after all! and I’ve seen a lot of pretty things and pretty faces. But you’re the best by far” He reminds you, and it makes you smile. He starts making a habit of telling you everyday.  
You didn’t ask about the succubi, Asmo wouldn’t tell you anyways. But you saw everything up in Devilgram though. Someone was able to record the whole thing where Asmo has stirred quite the scene when he claws out that poor succubi’s eyes behind you. Maybe that’s why he didn’t want you to look. 
It’s a miracle you didn’t get any blood on your clothes. Though you remembered how Asmo offered to wash your jacket for you so maybe you weren’t so lucky.
“Gosh! I’m so glad that video got my good side, but I do NOT pair well with blood.” He whines. Eventually, Lucifer had Barbatos take the video down quickly for damage control.
Beel
Ever since Diavolo took over Devildom, he made laws that banned humans off the menu for demons. Even if it’s been centuries since then, with new delectable food alternatives, there are still those who crave for the blood of humans.
You and Beel promised to go out on a small food trip, a reward for him after he won his recent Fangol game. You’re willing to accompany Beel anywhere he wanted to go, so he took you to dessert shops you’re both unfamiliar with. 
He seems to be having a time of his life getting to try out these new stalls! And you’re in charge of making sure he doesn’t eat the entire stock every single time.
Beel made a promise to save some sweets for Belphie, so he made a quick stop to that shop that sells Devil Honey Cookies while you wanted to check the shop across the street. Though when he came back, he couldn’t seem to find you anywhere. He entered each shop to find you but to no avail,
He never thought to search some of these shady stalls, the kinds that would hang fresh butchered bats and hog heads on the window display. He knew this stuff made you uncomfortable, so he was considerate enough not to bring you here.
That was until he overheard some demons whisper to each other “the chef said there’s a new item on the menu tonight. Something we haven’t had in a long time. A fresh human.” 
Beel dropped the honey cookies and ran straight to the kitchen, where he found the butcher sharpening his knife with you strapped to the table. You were taken away to the butcher’s shop while he was away, since the demons have been craving the meat of human flesh for centuries now. 
The blood in his veins is boiling, the air around the kitchen is suddenly heavy to breathe as he transforms. 
“Y-you’re not supposed to be here!” The chef demands, pointing the sharpened blade at Beel. He never spared the demon a glance, using his two fingers to bend the knife like a toothpick. The chef couldn’t dare to move and simply watched as Beel untied you from the table. 
The low growls from him when he saw how the restraints bruised your skin, you can tell that nothing you’d say will help sooth his nerves. Then you heard his stomach roar. 
“MC… I need you to go out of the kitchen first. I’ll meet you out front okay?” 
Once you leave, Beel turns to the chef. The last thing that poor soul saw was all the hunger in his eyes. “Bon appetit.” 
From outside, you heard this sickening CRUNCH that sent shivers down your spine. After a few minutes, Beel walks out the store as he licks his lips clean. 
“Why don’t we call it a day MC? I’m feeling kind of full now.” 
Belphie
Belphie doesn’t like looking back at his old self. Back when he hated all humans. The one that manipulated and lied to you, then rewarded your help by killing you with his bare hands. 
It took a lot of apologizing and making up for it to get him to how you both are like right now. But he knows that sometimes the pain lingers. When you shiver if his hands get too close, the times he finds you rubbing your neck, or how you stopped running down the stairs since you’re afraid of falling; those were all your tells.
He knows that he’s not the only demon out there who was against having human exchange students. Those demons are far less patient and more ruthless than he is, and he’s afraid that they might do something worse if they get their hands on you. 
Belphie has been trying to look everywhere for you, but you’re nowhere in your classrooms. Confused, he calls up Beel trying to ask for your whereabouts.
“What do you mean? MC said they’ve been looking for you after you sent them a letter.”
“... what letter? I never sent them one though”
“That’s odd. MC said you were asking to meet them at the rooftop.”
Belphie hightailed it to the roof, knowing that a demon must’ve forged his name and handwriting just to trick you. When he got to the rooftop, he found the doorknob jammed locked. 
He tried to kick the door open, but doors built in RAD were built to be so sturdy and he wasn’t as strong as his twin. He thought about calling Beel over to help, but all sense of reason jumped out of the window the moment he smelled something oh so familiar. 
The smell of your blood. He can never forget the scent, especially when it lingered in his fingertips for so long after the incident. He quickly shifts into his demon form to finally kick down the door, yelling for your name. 
A demon was dragging you by the hair, trying to take you to the edge to ‘throw out the trash’ while you begged for it to let you go. 
You felt its grip on you loosened, enough for you to get up and see Belphie holding onto the demon’s wrist. 
“MC… I need you to go out and call Beel over.” He says, unable to look at you. He was afraid that he might see that fear in your eyes again if he did. So he waited until you left and closed the broken door behind you. 
The grip he has on the demon tightens up until the point it’s wrist snaps, but he looks unfazed even with all the screaming. 
“You know… I used to be just like you. I used to tell myself that I would tear apart those humans to shreds. All the things I did. They didn’t deserve that… but I know who does.”
It’s late at night in the House of Lamentation. After managing to calm down the brothers from the fuss, you try to find Belphie and see him in the bathroom trying to wash his hands. You both lock eyes and before you can say a word, you break the silence. 
“… Thank you, Belphie. I wouldn’t know what would’ve happened if you weren’t there.” 
He looks surprised, assuming that you might’ve been afraid of him after his earlier behavior. But his lips formed a smile “anything for you, MC”
658 notes · View notes
halseyhatter · 7 months
Text
WHEN THE BROTHERS MEET MC’S EX
It’s a fact that you’ve had a previous relationship before you went to Devildom, but due to the nature of the circumstances it didn’t end so well. You never told any of the brothers what really happened until now, so how will they react with this newfound information? Especially when they end up bumping into your ex?
The ex became crazier than I ORIGINALLY intended when I wrote for some of the brothers to make the scenarios unique from each other… that also means some of the break ups and behaviors of the ex are different for each brother… forgive me “T-T !!!
Has some implied abuse but not outright said. Also some mentions of cheating (but not for the brothers dear god). Pls skip if it's not your cup of tea!! As always, thank you for reading.
------------
Lucifer
He knows about the fact you had a previous lover before, but it was not in his nature to pry. Hearing Asmo wonder out loud “aren’t you a little curious what happened in their previous relationship though?” Lucifer doesn’t want to admit that he does want to know. But it’s your story to tell after all.
Lucifer is confident in his looks and how he presents himself. He’s well-mannered, he’s intelligent, and he’s the Avatar of Pride so what could you have seen in anyone other than– okay, maybe Lucifer may be too curious for his own good. But his Pride would not allow him to be vocal about it. 
There was a time that you came home from RAD seemingly upset and shaken up. He helps you relax enough until you are calm enough to at least tell him what was wrong. You tell him that your ex has been bothering you lately, trying to get your attention for god knows what reason. 
This opens up the conversation Lucifer was waiting for, but it’s not exactly what he was expecting. You told him how you had to break the relationship because your ex became too manipulative and nitpicked every single thing that you did. It became too toxic.
Hearing this made Lucifer think back to all his actions towards his brothers and to you, where he demands everything to the last detail. He never wanted you to feel suffocated around him, he didn’t want to seem too controlling.
The last thing Lucifer wants for himself to remind you of your ex. He wants to practice healthy communications with you, where you can give him a sign if he’s getting too much or something is starting to trigger you. Your comfort is more important right now, and he’d hate to be the cause of your tears. 
He’s tempted to go through your profile case to find the name of your ex and hunt him down personally. Maybe chain him up in the dungeons for days to be Lucifer’s new stress relief outlet until they beg for mercy. But he won’t because it’s your personal life and he doesn’t want to interfere.
When you two bump into your ex while you were out together, his eyes narrowed at the sight of this pathetic human that made his precious MC’s life awful. ‘I want to show them what living hell really feels like… I want to break them in all aspects possible…’ Is a thought running rampant in his mind. 
He brings you close to him, an arm holding your waist as he turns to your ex “No matter the reason, it will not excuse interrupting our leisure time. Your previous transgressions already warrant a punishment. Now run home, while you still can.” He says, a voice so commanding yet foreboding. The dark aura looming around the skies is already a death threat in itself. Your ex is leaving without another word.
The skies cleared and Lucifer turned to you with a soft look, before pressing a kiss on your forehead. He checks if you felt shaken up from the experience and if you were, he’ll hold you close as you both go home while he whispers soothing words by your ear.
He’ll treat you like royalty, basically in second place after Asmo when it comes to pampering you. Lucifer wants to do everything to make you forget that scary experience and if you let him, he’ll personally handle all affairs regarding your ex.
“MC… please believe me when I say that you’re precious. You should never have to go through something like that again, I’ll make sure you’re always safe and happy everyday” He says, placing a kiss on your hand and cheek before pulling you in for an embrace.
After that incident, he makes sure your ex has no way of contacting you ever again for whatever reason. If only he could, he would’ve locked the bastard in the castle dungeons and performed any punishment he saw fit. He’ll eliminate anything and anyone that causes you pain or distress. 
Your ex better watch their back soon. Because it’s always as if the shadows are moving despite nothing being there. There’s always an extra pair of footsteps that can be heard even though they’re alone when walking home. Red eyes glaring at them from the distance before disappearing in a blink. The paranoia that something is watching them would drive them crazy, but the real miracle is if they’d ever make it home without a scratch. 
Mammon
Mammon didn’t take it well when he learned that there was someone else before him that won your heart. He’s supposed to be your first in everything after all! So he may have been a little bit pouty but it didn’t take much to cheer him up again. Just a little bit of affection got him back on his feet. 
He was curious to know who this someone must’ve been to win your affections before the Great Mammon himself, because it was only fair to assume there must’ve been something special about this person right? 
He was quite insistent on it but he respects it when you want to keep it to yourself. Mammon was quite tempted to go through Lucifer’s office to perhaps look at your file, but he doesn’t want to upset you if you found out his attempts to learn more about your personal life behind your back. 
One day he finds you looking pretty upset and as much as you try to hide it, Mammon knows you the best out of all the brothers so he’s not letting you off the hook until you tell him what’s wrong. He needs to know so he can think of how to cheer you up.
You eventually give in and tell him that your ex has been bothering you lately. You told Mammon about how your ex practically ran off with some of your things, ditching you in the dust. Now they’re back but you don’t want anything to do with them, because you’re sure they’re just going to take from you again if you give them a chance to hear them out.
Mammon’s thoughts went a thousand miles per second as you told your story. First, he can’t believe for a second that he envied this asshole! Second, he started to feel the worry that his poor behavior might make you remember your ex. 
He holds you close and tries his best to reassure you that he won’t let your ex even get away with a single dime from you. “If they try to even look at ya I’m gonna have to start chargin’ a fee! They can’t touch the valuables yknow?” And that was enough to cheer you up, even a little.
Mammon is practically glued to you everywhere you go just to make sure you’re doing okay. If you thought he was overprotective before, prepare to be proven wrong. On times that Mammon isn’t with you, there’s always a crow circling around the area around you instead. 
Mammon is extra vigilant of your things after he learned what happened. No one is ever stealing from you again because your treasure is his treasure now. At some point he tried to pick a fight with a classmate that just wanted to borrow your eraser… his heart is in the right place though!
When you two bump into your ex, Mammon gets the first word in the conversation. “Listen here ya piece of shit, if you ever think of bothering my MC again you better start sleeping with one eye open. There’s gonna be a bounty on your head when I'm through with you.” You practically had to hold him back from hitting your ex personally and causing a scene.
When your ex tries to butt in and talk to you, Mammon blocks you from their view “Lost your chance buddy, now go and scram unless you wanna gamble how many teeth will be left of ya once we’re done.” If anyone knows one thing, it’s to not accept a bet made by Mammon himself. There’s not a gamble he made that he didn’t win. 
As soon as they left, Mammon grabs your hand and leads you away as if you both are on the run. “Come on! Before that loser changes their mind, let’s high tail outta here!” He says with a flashy grin. 
Mammon spends the day trying to make you smile again. “Don’t worry about spending a dime, i snagged us some spare change” He says, holding up the wallet he stole from your ex during that confrontation. In his defense, if your ex stole from you then he might as well get even, right? 
He’s definitely not through with your ex now that he’s seen their face. With enough determination and patience from the fourth born, Mammon learned a specific curse for your ex. Now every time they’d need money for something, their wallet would always run short on cash. There’s never going to be enough money, but for some reason they always want more. Well, that’s the Avatar of Greed for you. 
Where does the money go? To Mammon’s pocket of course! Satan was wary of encouraging this bad habit of his brother by letting him have more money but after learning who this victim is? Say no more. That’ll show em to never steal from his human ever again. 
Levi
It didn’t sit well with Levi that you used to date someone else before. The idea that you gave your heart away to another person before Levi fills him with this twang of jealousy. Though he’s the Avatar of Envy so that’s to be expected. 
He doesn’t want to admit that in front of you though, so sometimes he starts talking to his goldfish to cope with it. Levi gets nervous and wonders what could have possibly happened in your previous relationship that made you end it. He’s scared that maybe he’s worse off than your ex or does the same thing. What if he’s already deep waters without realizing?!
It takes a while for him to build up the courage to ask you about it without his envy or anxiety getting in the way of making himself upset and backing out. He wants to know more about you after all, and that includes this. 
You talk about our old ex and how they were terrible to you. You found out that your ex cheated on you and it really did a number on your self-esteem, but you were better at masking that than Levi.
Levi felt awful for making you remember these memories, but at the same time he’s also pissed. How could anyone decide that you weren’t enough to the point they’d replace you? The idea of it is repulsive. He doesn’t even feel like he deserves you himself! Yet your ex had the chance to cherish someone as amazing as you and threw it all away. 
He’d wrap his arms and legs around you, feeling himself about to cry just thinking about how painful that must’ve been. “I-i don’t even know what to say but… I’d never hurt you like that. I’m sorry MC…” 
His empathy for you is enough to cheer you up and Levi spends the rest of the night trying to make you forget about your ex by letting you pick the games or shows to watch in his room. Though a part of him wants to go through the web and look for the bastard. 
Levi may be an anxious sweetheart, but he’s not the kind that would let someone who made you feel so low just run carefree. He’s a demon too, you know? so hacking into your ex’s online accounts and sabotaging them is not something out of his book. He could freeze their assets if he tried hard enough.
When you two end up running into them, Levi could hardly contain himself. Usually he would be the one cowering behind you whenever there are strangers he’s never met, but this time he put himself in between you two. 
“Even though I'm just an otaku, at least I could tell when something is rare and valuable. I bet a normie like you can’t understand that, seeing how you let go of someone as precious as MC.” Levi hissed, fangs threatening to bare at this scum until your ex finally decides to back off. 
Levi keeps his eyes narrowed at your ex until they disappear from sight. His glare is enough to convey that if the ex ever tries to turn around and take a step forward, Levi will have to do something about it. Once he’s sure that the ex is shaky out of sight, he finally lets out the breath he never knew he was holding in his lungs before he checks up on you. 
“I-i know that I'm not the best at a lot of things. Not looks… or sports… o-or studies. But I want to be someone who’s worthy of you!” Levi says, determination in his tone despite the constant stuttering.
To an otaku, you’re one of the rarest collectibles Levi has ever had the luxury of having, and he wants to prove that to the world! He won’t allow anyone to see you any less than that. One day he’ll make an entire powerpoint and show it off to the entire House of Lamentation titled ‘100 Reasons Why MC is the Best’
Your ex should be careful in entering any sort of body of water, especially the ocean. Who knows? Lotan might be looking for the perfect bite-sized meal soon. 
Satan
Satan learned your tells whenever you seem to flinch around people raising their voices. It happens a lot in a house full of rowdy brothers, but he sensed it more whenever there’s a serious fight and you’re around. So he tries to get you out of the mess as quickly as he could.
When you two got closer, you eventually told him about your ex that didn’t exactly… treat you right. Satan listened to every word, his full attention focused on how hurt you sounded and he doesn’t push the topic any further than you’re comfortable with. 
He lets you share what you only want to share, and he won’t pry on the details on what your ex may have done. With or without your explanation, to him it’s quite obvious what exactly your ex made you go through. “You don’t have to say anything more… I heard you loud and clear.”
Despite being Wrath, he tries putting in more self-control because he doesn’t want to accidentally scare you off. You even have special permission to use your pact against Satan should his anger go too far. The last thing he wants is to make you feel afraid instead of loved. 
But that self-control is not extended if he finds any demon hurting you, not even his brother’s are spared from his wrath (but it’s not like they’d hurt you on purpose anyways). He’ll make a protective spell that makes any demon who wants to cause you harm feel like they’ve held the hottest hellfire the moment they touch you. 
Satan was tempted to just go find the bastard himself and make them feel all the pain they made you go through tenfold. He’s not Wrath for no reason. But he doesn’t want to do anything without your discretion, since you trusted him with this broken and vulnerable part of you, then he shouldn’t abuse that trust.
On the day that you both bump into your ex, his gentle facade that he keeps up in front of anyone is gone. Molded into a sour expression full of hate. You could practically feel his wrath burning through your pact. 
“Let’s go MC, this pest is not worth our time.” His words are full of venom as he holds your hand firmly to guide you away from your ex, aggressively bumping his shoulder against them with a force that would have knocked them over. All he wants is to get you out of this situation, fast. 
When the ex tries to grab you to force you to stay, Satan is already putting you behind him protectively with his hand gripping them by the wrist. He really wants to tear them to ribbons for that but the only reason he doesn’t is because you’re here. He doesn’t want you to see that part of him.
His fangs are practically bared, ready to bite as he growls “Unless you want to go to bed with the same number of fingers that you woke up with today… Don’t. Touch. Them.” The hate and anger in his eyes are burning as he stares down at your ex.  
His threats are as clear as his grip on your ex’s wrist starts to get uncomfortably tight, it may leave a bruise as he lets go and that mark hopefully reminds them of his warnings. You watch as your ex scrambles for their life while they still have it. 
Satan had to take in shaky breaths, wanting to calm down from the heights of his anger. He wished he had an outlet, he wanted to draw blood so badly but he can’t let his anger take him too far or you’d have to deal with the aftermath. You need to be taken care of right now, so he does that as soon as he’s collected himself.
“When I'm with you, my wrath… It feels like it finally has a purpose. I want to use all of it to protect you. I won’t spare a single soul that hurts you, my angel” Satan promised, placing a kiss on your head as he held you close to his chest. 
Satan spends the night letting you lie down on his lap as he reads you some romantic poetry, ones that could properly convey how much he loves and cherishes you through words. He would occasionally run his fingers through your hair as he reads through the pages, and he’ll keep doing this until you fall asleep by his side.  
Now that he’s seen what the ex looks like, expect him to ruin their life. He won’t torture them (unless you were open to that suggestion-), but he makes it part of his nightly routine to place a curse on your ex to make their life insufferable. After all, Satan has been looking for a lab rat to test the hexes he wanted to use on Lucifer, and it seems he finally has one at his disposal. 
Asmo  
Asmo is very touchy and one thing he loves is a lot of intimacy in all forms. That includes physical. He’s used to showing these by hugging his brothers, but it made him confused when he didn’t get the reaction he wanted when he hugged you from behind. 
He’s a master at reading social cues so he immediately knows that you’re not okay. Did he hug you too tightly? Are you hurt somewhere? Asmo would whine and press you for answers normally, but he doesn’t this time. 
Asmo tried to get some gossip, wondering if something’s been bothering you lately. He loves how mysterious you can be, but this is the first he’s ever felt this frustrated not knowing enough about you! Not even the brothers knew what was wrong!
Asmo basically caves in one night during his skincare routines with you when he finally asks the question. “Love… no matter how much you try to hide it, I can tell something’s wrong.” He says with a hush tone as he applies a soft toner on your skin, looking at you with puppy eyes.
Even when he’s incredibly narcissistic, Asmo can be incredibly perceptive out of the brothers. He knows something’s bothering you, but he was not prepared to hear the story at all. 
You told Asmo that your ex has been bothering you lately, trying to get in contact with you constantly no matter how many times you tell them no. You explained that your ex called you several names before in the past and has treated you… awfully. You had to endure so much until you escaped that relationship. 
Asmo is probably crying more than you are at this point, ruining the skincare he carefully applied on himself with his tears. “How could anyone just… treat you that way? Do people not realize how lucky they are to have you?” He says between sobs, asking you for permission first before he hugs you.
He’s toned down his tackle hugs so he’d scare you less and take things at your pace. Asmo is happy enough to take it slow if it means you’d feel more comfortable with him. 
Though he’s less forgiving if any demon would look at you the wrong way. Asmo wants everyone to see how you’re the most precious gem in his realm and nothing lower than that. If he hears one bad remark from someone at the club or in school, Asmo will definitely make them squirm under his heel for forgiveness. 
When you both run into your ex, Asmo eyes them up and down. You know that Asmo doesn’t like looking at things he finds disgusting, and he gives off that exact expression when his eyes linger for even a single second in your ex’s direction. The judgment is evident in Asmo’s eyes, he didn’t even need to speak a single word to make it known. 
“I must say darling, your tastes really had a glow up now that I’m looking at that thing. I mean after seeing me, you’d agree, wouldn't you?” He says with his usual playful tone despite being so passive aggressive, subtly trying to lead you away from the ex.  
When they try to get closer, Asmo quickly shoots them a glare. His golden eyes have this particular glow in them as he speaks in an enchanting voice “Would you be a lad and go back to where you came from? Trash like you should walk back to the nearest dumpster, don’t you think so?” 
The mischievous grin in his face rivals the Anti-Lucifer league on the chances their pranks are successful as Asmo watches your ex obey under the influence of his hypnotic charms and run off to who knows where. 
“Ugh, I hate hate HATE looking at unsightly things! Did you see how they look?!” Asmo would whine on the way back home, his words judging every single aspect of your ex from the way their hair is fixed to even the slightest speck of dirt on their nails. He’d complain all the way back home how your ex is the epitome of revolting imperfection compared to himself. 
“You have to make it up for me, love. My eyes need to be cleansed! we’re doing a little fashion show in my room so i can stare at your cute little face all day!” There didn’t seem to be any room to say no, but you agreed anyways after all that Asmo has done for you today. 
He’ll spend the entire night trying to show off your good sides, which is all of it. If he can spend an entire trip home downgrading and judging your ex to the bone, Asmo will happily spend the last few hours of the day telling you what makes you so perfect in his eyes. 
Beel
Beel would be lying if he says he doesn’t feel bothered about your ex. It’s not a matter of you dating someone before, but it’s more of why you’re not telling him anything  about your past. 
Beel wanted to know more about you so he decided to ask Asmo if he had any gossip about you and your life, but to his surprise Asmo didn’t know anything. At some point he asked Lucifer if he read anything about it in your profile, but the oldest born just shakes his head and tells him to ask you personally instead. 
It’s perfect timing because as soon as he leaves Lucifer’s office, he finds you in the hallway and runs up to finally ask you himself. “I just… wanted to know more about you MC, even if it’s about that. It’s still part of you.” He sounds like a child asking for more allowance money to buy some candy.
You both go into your room and you explain why you never bring this up. Your ex always made you feel insignificant during the last few months of your relationship. You’re always neglected, never the priority, and it took a lot of courage for you to leave. Even when you did, your ex made it seem like you’re the one at fault. 
Beel can never understand how anyone could make you feel so small like this… have you always felt this way? Beel is not going to allow that. He wants you to make you his priority. You’re the person that helped fix his family, there’s no way he’s going to let you look down on yourself. 
You suddenly can’t feel the floor beneath your feet and in the blink of an eye, Beel lifts you up in his hands without a sweat. He stares at you with a small hum before lifting you even higher. You look at him, confused about what he’s trying to do until he speaks. “You know that I look up to you, for everything you’ve done for us here. I’ll make sure that no one ever looks down on you again, MC.”
When he says he looks up at you and how he quite literally means it with how high up he’s carrying you, it makes you laugh a little at how silly Beel can be sometimes. Seeing you smile again is enough for him to set you down on your feet and cuddle you for the next hour. 
Congratulations because you just won your own personal guard dog. No matter where you go, there’s always going to be the orange haired cuddly giant behind you. You had to reassure him that you’re going to be fine on your own and hope things would go back to normal. But you learn that not even bribing him with food can get him off your back.
When you both bump into your ex, Beel is immediately towering over them. His freakish height and his muscles as he looks down at your ex is enough to make anyone feel small under his threatening gaze. “Leave.”
Beel is the only thing that’s in between you and your ex. Your ex tried to make Beel budge but he barely moved an inch. It was the equivalent of trying to push against a brick wall at this point, the effort was futile and it just made Beel angrier. 
“I was being nice when I said leave. But I won’t ask a second time.” You can hear the faint sounds of buzzing, knowing how much self-control it’s taking Beel right now to avoid summoning a swarm of flies and locusts. It would be troublesome if Beel lets loose and shows the world why he’s given the title as the Lord of the Flies.
You tell Beel that you want to go home, and he immediately listens to you. With a small nod, he escorts you back while still keeping his eye on your ex in case they do anything funny. It’s all thanks to Beel’s kind heart and his love for you that prevented any sort of bloodshed tonight. 
Beel would take a small detour back and buy you some of your favorite sweets to bring home so you both can share it together in your room. Though the treats never made it back and is nothing but an empty container before you can even see the house in view. Regardless you still had a nice night eating the treats with him on the way.
You noticed the few glances Beel has been sending your way and before you can ask what he’s looking at, he places a quick peck on your cheek “You always look the best when you smile” 
Your ex better pray that they don’t bump into Beel in the middle of the streets because the moment this lovable demon spots them, there’s going to be some impromptu target practice with your ex and the closest table Beel can grab his hands on. 
Belphie
Belphie may be spoiled, but he knows his boundaries when it comes to teasing you about your previous relationships. You told him you’re not ready to talk about it, and he backed off immediately. He may poke fun about a lot of things when it comes to you, but his aim is always to make you laugh and never to upset you. 
He eventually finds out the truth when you were sleeping in the living room one day and he finds you. Just as he was going to join you, your phone wouldn’t stop buzzing like crazy. Belphie was irritated, wondering if it was Mammon annoying you again. 
He never really meant to snoop on your phone, he simply just wanted to turn it on silent mode so you sleep peacefully. But then he saw the various texts from an unknown number trying to demand your attention and calling you names. 
Belphie was so tempted to give this person a piece of his mind, but you woke up and caught him reading the messages. He looks surprised, and that expression immediately turns to guilt as he puts away the phone “MC? I-i didn’t mean to, I swear! But… Can you please tell me what’s going on?”
You can clearly see how worried Belphie looks, so you talk about your previous relationship and how your ex is trying to contact you despite how many times you’ve blocked their number already. You don’t know what they want, but it’s clearly not good. You try to ignore it, but Belphie can see how much it’s bothering you. 
“MC… I never knew…” Belphie says looking down. He still looks guilty, but it’s about something else entirely. He regrets those times he lied to you back when he was still locked up in the attic. He hates himself for doing something so horrible, especially now after knowing what you’ve been through. 
“I… I don’t deserve you honestly but… I want you to be happy, and I want to be the person who puts a smile on your face. Thank you for giving me that chance…” He says, giving you a small hug while secretly grabbing your phone. 
Belphie secretly switches the number so that your ex would be bothering someone else. Maybe with Mammon’s instead so that poor soul would have an earful each time they try to text until they get the message that it’s not you they’re texting anymore. He would’ve done it himself but… he is quite lazy. His older brothers can handle it.
When you both bump into your ex, Belphie looks at them with bored eyes. “Ugh… it’s you” He says, pulling you further away from that person’s reach. “Listen, stop bothering MC… or I’ll make you regret it the next time your dimwit skull tries to send them another text.” His last words were hissed through grit teeth. He may not look so intimidating at first, but he’s not as kind as he may seem. 
The moment your ex tries to send you another message, Belphie already had a curse activated. Any time they try to go to bed, they’re never going to meet the sweet slumber they need. Nighttime is always spent restlessly moving around the bed, trying to get some shut eye. They’re already exhausted by daybreak, and the cycle goes on. 
For the times they do end up falling asleep after passing out of exhaustion, they’re met with awful nightmares orchestrated by Belphie himself. Terrors and apparitions, making your ex feel endless fear for scaring you the past few days with his messages. Belphie is enjoying himself in this shared dreamscape as he watches your ex writhe helplessly. Beel noticed his twin always smiling in his sleep, unaware of how much the youngest is having fun torturing your ex from hell and back.  
Belphie swore to never let your enemies rest as long as he’s around. He’ll see to it that his promise is fulfilled. For now, he’ll pamper you and give you the best dreams so you can feel refreshed and relaxed each day before he goes back to his daily visit in your ex’s dreamscapes to haunt him until this poor soul learned his lesson. 
451 notes · View notes
halseyhatter · 7 months
Text
Recently, I fell head over heels for the stories by @dilatorywriting , and I've become an utterly smitten fool for the malleusdragonXbardyuu ship. I've dreamt up extensive scenarios related to this pairing, filling my imagination with headcanons that just won't let me be. Now, I'm torn on whether or not I should post these headcanons. Should I bring my imaginings into the Tumblr-sphere or keep them as my personal treasure? Decisions, decision
4 notes · View notes
halseyhatter · 7 months
Text
𝑶𝒃𝒆𝒚 𝒎𝒆 𝑵𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒃𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝑳𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒐𝒏 22 𝑺𝒑𝒐𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒓𝒔
Okay, so MC lost their magic. Does that mean that the connection of their pacts with the present brothers is gone too? If so, imagine the angst potential
𝑳𝒖𝒄𝒊𝒇𝒆𝒓, who has been desperately striving to keep his cool for the sake of his brothers, felt his blood run cold and his breath hitch when he couldn't feel your connection anymore. His paperwork stained from spilled ink and tears he didn't even realize had fallen from his eyes.
For the first time since you disappeared, he felt paralyzed by his own fear as he could feel himself succumb to despair.
𝑴𝒂𝒎𝒎𝒐𝒏, who refused to even acknowledge the possibility of you not coming back, wailed in pain when he felt your bond fade away from existence. He was forced to face the fact that you may actually never come back.
He felt as though someone had ripped out a part of him, leaving him forever looking for the missing piece.
𝑳𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏, who had submerged even deeper into his games and fantasy worlds to escape the emptiness of your absence, felt like the air was sucked out of the room. His game controller fell forgotten as GAME OVER appeared over his screen.
No amount of escapism will ever be enough to make him forget he's missing his player 2.
𝑺𝒂𝒕𝒂𝒏, who could feel his wrath slowly growing more uncontrollable, reached his burning point when he couldn't feel you anymore. Angry with the universe from taking you away from him, angry with himself for not being able to protect you.
His precious books were scattered across the floor, his room half destroyed as he sat quietly on the floor with silent tears in his eyes.
𝑨𝒔𝒎𝒐𝒅𝒆𝒖𝒔, who had tried to stay cheerful and positive, couldn't help the heartrending lament that left him as he broke down. He curled himself on his bed, sobbing in pain at the stabbing feeling he felt in his chest.
He kept seeing flashes of your beautiful smile, your mesmerizing eyes, and couldn't help but cry harder at the thought that he may never hear your laugh again.
𝑩𝒆𝒆𝒍𝒛𝒆𝒃𝒖𝒃, whose hunger pangs had grown in both frequency and intensity, felt as though a hole was carved in his chest, leaving him emptier than he's ever felt before. Tears blurred his vision as he fell on his knees, hands clutching his abdomen as if that would make him whole again.
Your absence left a void inside of him that his hunger could never match. A void that could never be filled no matter how much food he ate.
𝑩𝒆𝒍𝒑𝒉𝒆𝒈𝒐𝒓, who locked himself in the attic to sleep so he could dream of you, felt the world go dark when his dream version of you disappeared, leaving him alone in the dark void. He woke up with a scream, tears streaming down his face, overwhelmed by the feeling of your absence.
And he knew, even if he tried to escape the pain by sleeping the days away, he would still dream of you. He will never break free of the pain of losing you, not even indulging in his sin.
620 notes · View notes
halseyhatter · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media
featuring diluc, kaeya, zhongli and childe. reader was written as female but can be interpreted however you want
✶ finding out and telling him
✶ noticing the bump
✶ mood swings
✶ feeling the baby kick
✶ gender reveal
✶ shopping for baby
✶ picking out a name
✶ aches, pains and sickness
✶ intimate moment (nsfw/spicy)
✶ trying to induce labor
✶ labor and delivery
bonus: angst | protective 
Tumblr media
✶ first week with baby
✶ baby won’t stop crying
✶ he watches baby alone
✶ you’re insecure about your body
✶ baby goes to work with dad
✶ the little moments
✶ baby’s first word
✶ babysitting kaeya/diluc childe/zhongli
✶ baby’s first birthday
✶ baby walks for the first time
bonus: accidents happen 
Tumblr media
✶ getting into trouble
✶ hair mishaps
✶ nightmare
✶ sick
✶ puppy love
✶ tantrums
✶ loosing teeth
✶ clingy baby
Tumblr media
✶ calla alberich
✶ isaac ragnvindr
✶ clara ragnvindr
✶ nikolai
✶ jia
2K notes · View notes
halseyhatter · 7 months
Text
↳ summary: random thoughts about how the boys might have reacted to you just vanishing due to the events of NB & how it affected the pacts with each of them.
↳ Tags: Gender Neutral Reader, Mammon (Obey Me!), Leviathan (Obey Me!), Lucifer (Obey Me!), Satan (Obey Me!), Asmodeus (Obey Me!), Beezelbub (Obey Me!), Belphegor (Obey Me!), Nightbringer Setting, SFW, Headcanons.
writer's blurp: let's all get onto the train of wild shit happening with MC being away from the boys they know once again and how their handling it. hopefully, it won't be a timeline wipe lol
Tumblr media
↳ Lucifer
◆ despite everything that makes lucifer what he is, it means little in the grand scheme. both power and pride are useless in the wake of your sudden disappearance. ◇ his fuse seemed short, but now it feels even shorter. horribly, and painfully shorter, but despite that, he is taking more care to check on his brothers if he is acting like this then he can only imagine how his brothers are handling it. ◆ it won't stop. he can't stop the pain of his pact mark. as if it had been ripped clean off your person like a band-aid. it hurts like it should, the painful reminder of your existence, and your warmth are gone for the moment. he waits for you, for someone who may never walk through those doors again, but he waits.
↳ Mammon
◆ the first to feel it and the one who hurts the most. the one who grabs at himself where the placement of his pact mark is on your person just trying to feel something in the sudden wake of the void left behind. ◇ if he isn't out looking for you then mammon can be found in your room either curled up in your bed d.d.d in hand while he tries to contact you somehow. ◆ it hurts. horribly, painfully and mammon wails. the void that digs into his being and grows a little bigger with each day, he cannot find you. with each empty brush of your bond that isn't answered back is soul-crushing. each day is another call he makes to hear your voice, each day he asks, voice broken where are you?
↳ Leviathan
◆ the burning pain was enough to wake him up. leviathan couldn't breathe, and he couldn't think. so he panicked, grabbing his d.d.d and calling the first person on his list while he tried to calm himself down. ◇ leviathan couldn't tell who it was who did come in to help him, but when they did he just clings to them. comfort, warmth, family, here and alive. all the things he couldn't feel from you. whoever came held him even tighter while he blubbered from too many emotions and fear. ◆ when it gets to be too much the loss of the pact mark and just feeling you just brush back when he needed it the most. it seeps into his bones, leviathan feels cold and lost like he's somehow fallen once again. he does what helps him feel the safest-- hides away.
↳ Satan
◆ it almost feels like he is being skinned alive, with how you are torn away from him. with the pact missing, you're no longer just a touch away to be felt-- he feels wrath like he hasn't since he was born. ◇ his wrath is quiet, it is carefully moving beneath his skin. satan sees how each of his brothers slowly one by one seeks out one another. your loss is felt by each one of them, a void that none of them can feel you through. ◆ some days are harder than others, and satan feels the small spot inside of him that held you so close to his heart just-- close itself off to not feel hurt, but sometimes when he swears that he could feel the tug of you calling for him.
↳ Asmodeus
◆ watching the mirror break right before him, followed by how his soul feels as if it's being torn apart. the pact he shares with you feels so, so faint he fears the worst. ◇ the worst being that you died. alone, away from him, away from everyone who loves you, but-- he can sometimes feel your warmth when he reaches out. ◆ as comforting as that should be faint warmth and whispers of you still being alive are cold comfort. even if he can just barely feel you... he wouldn't be able to help you wherever you may be.
↳ Beelzebub
◆ beelzebub drops everything and moves. transformed, and in pain, he runs home, he looks, and he looks, but he cannot find you. his whole self hurts, his heart most of all. another, another person he loves is-- no. no just because he couldn't feel you didn't mean that you were dead. ◇ the world around him seems to move so slowly, but he eventually stumbles to the planetarium to find belphegor curled in on himself, and the moment belphie says that he can't feel you. that you're just... gone beelzebub breaks down with him. ◆ beelzebub can't sleep, but belphie tries to help him. nothing tastes right, nothing looks right when he eats and his brothers worry even more. nobody knows what's going on-- nobody can find you and beelzebub blames himself for not being able to keep you safe. his brothers say differently they all failed, but... none of them has failed to keep a loved one safe as he had.
↳ Belphegor
◆ belphegor wishes that he was asleep when he felt it because it would have hurt less in a dream (or so he thinks). to be awake, to be gazing at the stars to watch one suddenly blink out of existence followed by pain-- it was excruciating. ◇ just like the star, you had vanished, taking a piece of belphegor with you. and when beel stumbles into belphegor's sight... he crumbles. the two of them breaking down together. ◆ even when belphegor sleeps he doesn't feel at peace, but some nights... he can see you or he thinks he might. the dreams are always fuzzy, but in those dreams, it feels like you're right there with him. that somehow you're safe even if none of them can find you, much less feel the bond each pact has made with you.
374 notes · View notes
halseyhatter · 7 months
Text
Levi finds out he’s going to be a Daddy
@petitefeu here it is!
Only a few weeks before MC left Devildom, she discovered that she was pregnant
MC always had her suspicions that she may have been expecting after experiencing the textbook symptoms such as missing her period, sore breasts and feeling nauseous
One day she finally builds up the courage to go out and buy a test when most of the brothers are out doing their own thing
When she got back to the house and went to her bathroom, her heart was beating rapidly as she waited for the results
She couldn’t believe her eyes when she gawped down at the positive pregnancy test in front of her. She felt a little ridiculous for initially thinking that it’d be impossible for a demon and a human to have a baby because clearly that’s not true
However, despite being in a complete panic, she knew she couldn’t keep Levi in the dark; especially because she’d be leaving so soon
When he got back from RAD that day, he didn’t even realise something was wrong; his first instinct was to enter his room and begin gaming while MC sat nervously on the beanbag beside him
Eventually - after realising MC didn’t cheer him on like usual - he turned his head to her; giving her a quizzical look
“Are you okay?” He asked quietly
“I’m pregnant, Levi.”
Almost immediately, he practically fainted at the sudden news. His face lost all colour as his eyes widened and his chest started to heave
MC got incredibly worried and tried to calm him down. Even though she was absolutely terrified and on the edge of tears, she still tried her best to sooth him
She knelt in front of his body, placing her hands on his knees as she encouraged him to take take breaths
Levi is absolutely horrified by the thought of being a Father; he doesn’t deem himself as worthy. Especially because MC is the Mother - he thought she could do much better than him
He then made himself even more upset after it settled in that MC was leaving him in a matter of weeks
Not only did he think he’d be an awful Father, his mind also tormented him; saying he’d never even meet his baby
Even though it took a few days, Levi finally calmed down and he accepted what was happening
Both of them were scared to become parents - especially given the circumstances - but they both remained supportive of one another
Levi had many doubts about MC’s pregnancy but with her help, he began to stop worrying about becoming a Dad
Neither of them told a soul about the pregnancy - how bad would it look on them and Diavolo if the human exchange student got knocked up by one of the demons taking care of her?
They had an incredibly emotional goodbye; especially the night before MC left
The whole night was spent with Levi sleeping on MC’s chest while his hand rested on her small, protruding belly and her fingers were laced in his purple hair
When she did leave, Levi approached her and very nervously whispered “I—I’ll come and see you, I p—promise”
He tried so hard not to cry when she disappeared in front of him; returning to the human realm
The next few months were spent with Levi visiting MC in the human realm; attending every appointment with her and spending as much time with her as possible without raising any suspicion with his brothers
Thankfully Levi is known for being a shut in. The brothers didn’t question it when nobody saw him for days at a time
Even when he missed RAD it wasn’t seen as a big deal because he barely ever left his room anyway
Over time Levi’s confidence grew and very slowly he became excited to be a Dad
In fact, sometimes he’d get incredibly excited as he’d bounce around MC’s lounge; gushing over how they’d soon have a baby together
He put so much effort into their relationship and the nights they spent together would be made of him saying how when their child has grown up they can go to Comic Con wearing a group costume; the days out they will have at the zoo; the pet fish they’d get the baby etc
Levi’s favourite activity used to be playing on his console but that is soon replaced by cuddling MC’s pregnant belly
Whenever he visited her, the first thing he did was greet their growing baby; unable to believe how big MC was getting between visits
Quite often he’d also bring her small gifts from Devildom like a top that says “baby loading 80%” or “player 3 pending” for her to wear or something silly
MC had never seen Levi so happy until the moments he spent with her and their baby in the human realm
However, when MC went into labour he turned back into a nervous wreck
He got so worried for her wellbeing after seeing just how much pain she was in and the affects their baby was having on her body
He also suddenly panicked because ‘I AM ABOUT TO BECOME A FATHER’
Despite his worries, Levi handled it perfectly (and MC obviously) - she gave birth to their healthy baby and the couple couldn’t be happier
With their baby being born, Levi visits the human realm even more so than usual
Eventually his absence from Devildom does begin to have an effect
Slowly, his grades at RAD start deteriorating and Lucifer is the first to notice
Being the observant brother he is, Lucifer searches Levi’s room after realising the third born is nowhere in sight before discovering he’d been visiting MC
Without knowing the facts, he gets incredibly angry and enters a portal to MC’s house to confront Levi about his slipping grades
However, when MC answers the door and invites him in, Lucifer can’t believe his eyes when he walks into the lounge
Fast asleep on the sofa, with a purple haired baby curled up in his arms, is a sleeping Levi; surrounded by blankets, dummies and bottles
If it weren’t for MC, Lucifer would have remained frozen in the doorway
“She looks just like him, doesn’t she?” She speaks softly from beside the eldest brother
After discovering their secret, Lucifer doesn’t scold Levi. In fact, he becomes incredibly supportive and is lowkey so proud of his brother for helping to raise a baby despite the difference in realms
MC ends up getting welcomed back to Devildom - along with hers and Levi’s daughter
The three of them end up sharing MC’s old room (because there’s no way they could share Levi’s bathtub)
The brothers - and in particular Lucifer - have never felt such awe for Levi
MC and their baby changes him for the better and it ends up being everyone else that is envious of Levi
952 notes · View notes
halseyhatter · 7 months
Text
Lucifer finds out MC had his baby after she left Devildom (angst/fluff)
This is quite fast paced but i didn’t want to make it too long as I don’t know how to do the ‘read more’ tool on my phone!
-
Picking up the baby monitor, MC left the lounge as she began pottering around her kitchen. She probably had about an hour before her newborn daughter would awake again so - despite being exhausted - MC tried her best to get as much cleaning done as possible.
However, a knock at the door stopped that from happening.
Surprised, MC made her way back through the bungalow; wondering who on earth could be outside. After all, she wasn’t expecting anyone and can’t remember ordering anything online lately.
Passing her sleeping daughter, she left the lounge before walking into the entranceway; baby monitor strapped to her belt. Gripping the handle, she pulled the door open before widening her eyes at the guest on the other side.
“FINALLY!” Mammon exclaimed dramatically, “what took ya so long?!”
“Oh my god...” MC mumbled quietly, horrified to see 6 out of 7 brothers in front of her.
All colour drained from her face as 6 pair of expectant eyes fell on her own.
“Is everything alright?” Satan asked concerned, noticing her change of expression.
“I er...” she spoke quietly, shutting the door behind her as she squeezed onto the step outside her house. “What are you guys doing here?”
As absolutely elated as she was to be reunited with the brothers, she only wished that they’d warned her of their arrival. That way she may have been able to prepare herself for admitting the huge secret sleeping inside the house.
“We’ve come to see you of course!” Asmo grinned excitedly while the other brothers smiled.
“Where...where’s Lucifer?” MC practically whispered, glancing over their shoulders to see if he was nearby.
“Ah he’s just parkin’ the car. We couldn’t be bothered to wait for him, apparently ya can’t just park on the curb in your realm?!” Mammon stated in disbelief.
“You’re not supposed to do that in Devildom either?” Levi questioned, narrowing his eyes.
“Oh my...” MC breathed again, completely ignoring their rambling as she took deep breaths.
“What’s wrong?” Beel asked as his face saddened. “I thought you’d like us surprising you.”
“I do, believe me.” She nodded, “but I just wished you’d have warned me.”
“Why?” Belphie questioned.
As if on cue, her daughter awoke from her nap and soon tiny cries echoed through the monitor. The noise completely startled MC; she hadn’t anticipated her baby to wake so soon but perhaps she heard Mammon’s loud voice.
“MC I think your phone’s ringing.” Levi pointed out.
“That’s not a phone, ya dingbat!” Mammon spoke up, “it’s a cat.”
“Are you both complete imbeciles?” Satan shook his head, “it’s clearly a baby, can you not see the monitor?”
“Ooh, a baby!” Asmo gushed, rushing into the house.
Panicking, MC quickly chased after him, followed by the other brothers.
Walking into the lounge, as soon as he laid eyes on the tiny bundle of joy, Asmo’s face lit up. “Oh my goodness, she’s adorable!” He cooed, leaning over the cot.
“Whose baby is it?” Satan asked bewildered, joining them all in the lounge.
MC remained silent as they all turned to face her.
“Wait...that’s your baby?!” Asmo questioned amazed.
“Yes.” MC nodded reluctantly.
“What?! Ya never told us ya were married!” Mammon cried.
“I’m not married, Mammon.” MC shook her head with a sigh.
“How old is she?” Satan asked quietly, beginning to grow suspicious of just how long they hadn’t seen MC for.
He could see that she was growing more and more uncomfortable.
“Two months.” She answered truthfully.
“Then who is the Father?” He asked gobsmacked.
The other brothers were left quiet as they admired the cute baby, clueless about Satan’s realisation.
MC furrowed her eyebrows as she felt the fourth eldest’s stare on her. But then, before she could say anything, footsteps approached the house.
“I cannot believe you all just ran off like that, it was completely irresponsible.” Lucifer moaned as he entered the house, “it was my idea to come here in the first place! The least you could do is be respectful and not disappear at the first chance.”
Satan never took his eyes off MC as he observed the panic that fell across her face. His lips parted as her expression answered his question.
“Lucifer’s the Father?!” He questioned in disbelief.
“WHAT?!” Mammon spun around, followed by the other brothers.
“Shh!” MC quickly hushed them, “you can’t tell him - he doesn’t know.”
“Well I don’t know how you plan to hide her...” Satan worried, glancing over at the baby as the door handle turned to the lounge.
Entering the room, Lucifer stopped in his tracks as he was met with 7 shocked faces. “What’s going on?” He asked suspiciously before his attention immediately turned to the baby. Everybody noticed the way his eyebrows furrowed and eyes narrowed after being met with the infant.
“Well, I think that’s my cue to leave.” Asmo broke the silence as he escaped the room.
“Me too.” Beel nodded, following his footsteps.
One by one, the brothers all left the room swiftly until it was just Lucifer, MC and Satan. Bewildered by everybody’s behaviour, the eldest brother turned his attention back to the human. Given how the brothers had reacted to his appearance and the fact that there was an unexplained baby in the room, Lucifer immediately knew something was up.
“What’s happening, MC?” He asked seriously.
Shooting her a sympathetic look, Satan left the room too.
“Lucifer we need to talk.” MC spoke quickly.
“I imagine we do.” He nodded, “after all, I have just arrived at your home unexpectedly to find you less than pleased to see me, my brothers being unusually silent and a newborn baby sat in the room.”
MC was taken aback by his words. She hadn’t anticipated jumping straight to the point. Suddenly she felt completely overwhelmed as Lucifer already pieced together what was happened. Taking a deep sigh, she flopped onto the sofa beside the cot as she gently pushed her hand through the rails to stroke her wriggling baby’s head.
Watching her every move, Lucifer studied MC carefully. By this point his heart was riddled with anxiety. All he wanted to do was come and finally see MC and tell her how he misses her so.
How he loves her so.
And now? Now it’d seem there was something more important to say.
“Who is this?” He asked quietly, stepping toward the cot as he towered over it.
Waiting for MC to answer, he glanced down at the baby.
“My daughter...” she whispered.
Studying the dark hairs and the small red glint in the baby’s eyes, Lucifer turned his head to the human.
“Your daughter?” He questioned seriously.
Parting her lips, MC gawped at him as her chest tightened.
“I think you mean our daughter.” He corrected her.
Despite his usual cold exterior, MC could hear the hurt in his voice. Guilt filled her entire body as she was left in silence.
Shaking his head, Lucifer narrowed his eyes as he crouched in front of the cot to get a better look of the baby.
“How could you not tell me?” He asked venomously. “How could you keep this from me?!”
“I’m sorry.” MC quickly apologised.
“Sorry doesn’t cut it, MC.” He quickly interjected, “I have spent every day stuck in hell thinking about you; wondering if you thought about me, wondering if you still loved me! And all this time you were hiding this?”
Although he may have sounded angry, MC knew deep down it was only his despair. It wasn’t like Lucifer to show so much emotion.
Standing up, he strode over until he was standing in front of her. “Why did you hide her, MC?” He asked seriously, “did you not think I was deserving to hear the news of our child?”
Turning her focus to him, MC’s face fell. “Your pledge.” She whispered.
Lucifer’s heart sunk at her words. He felt an indescribable sense of betrayal in his heart as MC used the one thing he couldn’t change about himself, as the excuse for hiding their baby from him.
Unable to utter any words, Lucifer turned away. Taking a few steps toward the window, he placed a hand on his chest as his mind raced. Whatever pride he had when he entered MC’s house that morning had now completely vanished.
Watching him anxious from across the room, MC felt a huge pang of sadness.
“Her name is Lillith.” She spoke softly.
MC’s words were a cold thrust of insult to his heart.
“That’s rather inappropriate, wouldn’t you say?” Lucifer asked defensively, watching his brothers who were stood awkwardly in the garden through the window. “I mean the reason you chose not to tell me about her was because of my pledge to Diavolo and the only reason that exists was to save Lillith’s life.”
“I wanted to tell you.” MC informed him, “but...I’ve seen what your pledge has done to you, Lucifer. I didn’t think...I didn’t think you’d want this. Your life belongs to Diavolo—“
“That’s not for you to decide.” He shook his head. “I may have made a pledge to Diavolo but that doesn’t mean I have given him my life. You and that baby could have been the thing that made me feel like I had something to live for again. But you chose to keep it from me.”
“Lucifer, please.” MC begged, standing up from her seat on the sofa. “I was completely clueless and irrational...and scared! I know you and I were practically together while I was in your realm but I didn’t think this would be something you’d want. You’re always so busy and have little time as it is for your family...I just didn’t want you to feel any more pressure.”
“Well you’re wrong.” He spoke quietly, “this is everything I could want.”
“I’m so sorry.” MC repeated.
Lucifer nodded but didn’t say anything else. He was too busy contemplating the huge revelation he’d just discovered so unexpectedly.
The room grew silent and minutes began to pass.
“Can I hold her?” He asked quietly.
“Of course.” MC whispered, moving away before returning with their daughter.
Incredibly cautiously, Lucifer turned his attention toward their daughter. As he stared at this baby he’d only known for all of ten minutes, he felt an unfamiliar wave of emotions flood through his body.
Though he’d been alive for centuries, seeing the tiny life he’d created in front of him made him feel like he’d been reborn. Only this time he didn’t feel like he’d been born as a monster; he’d become something so much better than a fallen angel.
He was a Father.
Shifting his body, he held out his arms as MC slowly passed the baby over. Carefully holding her in his arms, Lillith looked so small against his torso. Lucifer never blinked as he stared into the eyes of his daughter.
He was in complete awe of everything she did. From the tiny little wriggle of her arms to the way she had his looks and yet still resembled her mother to him.
Glancing up at MC, his face finally softened. She gazed at him worried, feeling awful for everything she’d done.
“I’ll accept your apology.” He informed her, “providing you both come home with me.”
Nodding her head, MC let out a deep sigh of relief. Her whole heart suddenly felt like it was at ease as she quickly stepped closer to Lucifer; carefully hugging his side as he held their daughter.
Content filled his heart as he was surrounded by the warmth of his new family. Lucifer hadn’t felt such love in centuries and even now, it was still a completely new kind of love; one that he’d never felt before. He let out a shaky breath as he tilted his body to rest his cheek on MC’s head.
“I suppose I better fetch my brothers.” He breathed, “they’ll be wanting to meet their niece.”
683 notes · View notes
halseyhatter · 7 months
Text
Diavolo makes MC wear his crown
Diavolo was in the middle of giving MC a tour of his palace. Her and the brothers were staying there for the weekend to celebrate Diavolo’s birthday. While the brothers were squabbling over who gets to share a room with whom, MC asked the Prince to learn more about the colossal building they were in.
Although Barbatos offered to show her around, Diavolo was more than happy to lead the tour himself. He thought it’d be the perfect opportunity to spend some time alone with his exchange student.
“This is the West Wing.” He spoke as they slowly strolled down the long hallways, “as you can see this is where my ancestors portraits are.”
“Where’s yours?” MC asked curiously as she admired the huge paintings that covered the walls.
“Still in my imagination.” He chuckled earning a confused look from MC, “my portrait won’t be done until I’m King. For now that demon there is the true ruler.” He spoke, pointing at a particular painting.
“Your Father.” MC examined closely.
“Correct.” He nodded with a smile, “Come, we don’t want to spend our evening looking at paintings of him.”
Placing his hand on her lower back, he led her into the throne room. “Wow” she breathed, gazing at the huge chairs opposite them, “You don’t need to tell me what room this is.” She laughed.
“Just you wait.” Diavolo smiled cunningly as he skipped over to a velvet curtain.
MC followed him, intrigued by what was hidden behind the drapes. Pulling on the gold rope to the side, a beautifully intricate crown was revealed, perched on a marble platform, “Diavolo...” she whispered as her eyes widened, “is that yours?”
“It will be.” He spoke smugly, carefully lifting it from the pillow it sat on, “Try it on.” He insisted, casually holding it out for her.
“What?!” She gasped, “Diavolo what you’ve got there is effectively the Crown Jewels, I cant just ‘try it on’.”
“Oh please, the only person who’d tell you off for it is me and I’m the one trying to get you to wear it!” He chuckled at her, “Go on. I’ll warn you though, it is heavy.”
“I’m not surprised.” MC scoffed as she watched him intently.
Lifting the magnificent jewels, he slowly lowered it onto her head, adjusting it to sit right. “Hm...” he studied with narrowed eyes, “a little big but it looks good on you.”
“It does?” MC asked surprised.
“Yes...” Diavolo pondered, “Perhaps I’ll have to have one made for you to wear beside me.” He grinned suggestively leaving MC completely speechless.
895 notes · View notes