#asmodeus x reader

[bloomries]

Bounty Hunter! Reader x Asmodeus who is incredibly charmed by the fact you're trying so very hard to kill him. He finds it incredibly romantic, oddly enough! The romances in his little collection of books starting with a similar pretense of one character wanting to kill the other one before ultimately falling in love with each other. He hates to admit it but he slips up here or there just so you can get an inch closer to him. His heart hammers in his chest, he wants nothing more than for you to realize it's useless to try and kill him and instead fall in love with him! Yes, yes, he understands that you need the money that his "death" would undoubtedly give you but don't you know he's quite famous in the Devildom? If instead you were to be with him he'd spoil you with anything you ask— oh, please stop trying to stab him– although he could be into it, if you were.

[luxthestrange]

Obey me!Memes #190

Sorcerer Mc Introducing their Demon Bf while in his truest form glaring down at the sorcerers who dare to be mean to you-

[vikkirosko]

Headcanons of how would Stolas, Fizzarolli, Asmodeus, Sir Pentious, Husk, and Alastor react to their crush asking "Why me?" after he confessed to them? Not because they don't like him back but they feel like he deserves someone better than them!

Headcanons Why me?

📻 Alastor x Reader 🎙

Getting a confession from Alastor was the most unexpected event in your life. Even though you had feelings for him, you would never have thought that such a thing was even possible. He continued to look at you with his usual smile, waiting for at least some kind of answer from you, and you could only ask why you

Your question made him laugh, as if you had asked something so obvious that it was even funny. He asked you directly what you meant, to which you confusedly told him that you were an unsuitable partner for such a charismatic person as Alastor. Your answer made him laugh again, which made you even more embarrassed

Alastor did not torment you with suspense for a long time and told you that it was his choice and if it were not so, you would not be having this conversation now. He was sure of what he was experiencing and was only waiting for your answer

You didn't know how to react. You weren't completely sure that it wasn't a joke or something like that. The only way to find out the truth was to take a chance and tell him how you felt about him

🃏 Husk x Reader 🥃

Husk didn't admit even to himself for a long time that he had feelings for you. He denied them, but eventually admitted to himself that he really likes you. Now he had another difficult task, namely to tell you how he felt about you. He did it quickly, abruptly, when you were alone in the bar. However, your reaction was not what he expected and it put him in a dead end

You only asked him one question. Why do you. You claimed that Husk, despite all his rudeness, was a good man and deserved a good partner, which you did not consider yourself to be. Husk was frankly surprised that you saw him in a completely different way than he perceived him. Perhaps it was because you were in love with him, but Husk was not going to go back on his words because you considered yourself unsuitable for him

Husk directly told you that he feels these feelings not for someone else, but for you, which means he was not going to give up his feelings so easily, especially if the only reason for this was that you did not consider yourself a suitable partner for him. He asked you directly if you had the same feelings for him as he had for you, and when he received an affirmative answer, he nodded with satisfaction

He understood that you were worried about him, but Husk intended to decide for himself who was the right partner for him and who was not, and you were the person he wanted to see next to him, and if you felt the same way about him, then there were no reasons why you couldn't be together

🐍Sir Pentious x Reader 🎩

Pentious took a long time to tell you about his feelings. His feelings for you were strong and he sincerely wanted to tell you about them, and his subordinates often supported him in this, so he was able to muster the courage to tell you everything. But when he confessed to you, he saw how quickly the emotions changed on your face. You were surprised, confused and excited

You asked him why you. You stopped talking, so he asked what you meant. To his question, you took a deep breath and spoke. You said he was smart, brilliant, funny and sweet. In your eyes, he was wonderful, despite the cute oddities in your opinion, and he deserved the best partner, which you were not, at least that's what you said yourself

When you looked up at him, you saw tears in his eyes. He was ready to cry. He couldn't remember the last time someone had said such words to him, especially the person he really liked. Pentious asked you if you had mutual feelings for him, and after receiving your affirmative nod, he hugged you tightly

He was happy that you reciprocated and now you could be together. Pentious was as happy as ever, rejoicing that he was able to confess his feelings to you. He was sure that no matter how gloomy his day was, it became brighter next to you

🦉 Stolas x Reader 🎩

Stolas had few opportunities to experience real feelings. That's why when he realized his feelings for you, he decided not to delay the confession. He knew he could have missed his chance, so he decided to take a chance, but your reaction surprised him

You were very confused and started talking fast. You told him that you weren't the right partner for him, even though you felt the same way about him, and it wasn't about social status. You thought he was wonderful. He was handsome, smart, kind. He deserved the best partner. Better than his almost ex-wife and better than you, at least that's what you claimed

Stolas listened to your monologue with surprise, after which he smiled gently and took your hand in his. He told you bluntly that there weren't many pleasant moments in his life, but after meeting you, his life became brighter and he hoped that there would be even more of these moments

He felt warm in his soul when he saw your embarrassed expression. Stolas was glad that his feelings were mutual, because you said it yourself, but he was even more pleased that you sincerely wished him happiness. He hoped that together you could become happy

🐓 Asmodeus x Reader 💕

Asmodeus has been planning to confess his feelings to you for a long time. He wanted everything to go beautifully, because you deserved the best, which is why he prepared a romantic dinner for the two of you, cooking the food himself. Ozzie behaved gallantly and politely when you came, sincerely hoping that you liked everything, and when dinner came to an end, he honestly told you about his feelings for you, but your reaction surprised him

You asked him why you. Asmodeus didn't have time to answer you when you started talking. You thought he was wonderful. He was smart, handsome, talented and more, and he deserved someone better than you, much better than you, at least that's what you said yourself

When you finished your monologue, Asmodeus couldn't help but laugh, after which he hugged you. He was glad that you had such an opinion of him, but he knew that he loved you and in his eyes you were the best and he wanted to see you next to him and not someone else whom you considered better than yourself

Ozzie hoped that you would be able to believe in yourself and not continue to deny his feelings. He saw that his feelings were mutual and it made him happy. Asmodeus was sure that you would be really happy together

🎪 Fizzarolli x Reader 💟

You and Fizzarolli have been friends for a long time and he knew that he was in love with you. Fizz didn't know how to tell you that he liked you, and so he was silent for a long time, but he realized that he couldn't keep silent anymore, so he decided to confess to you about all his feelings that he felt for you

When he stopped talking, he saw how red your face was. You were confused by his confession and clearly started to worry, but instead of responding to his feelings, you asked why you. You were talking fast, embarrassed, obviously nervous, but you kept talking. You told him that he was a wonderful man, he was funny, handsome, talented and deserved the best partner, much better than you

When you finished speaking, you saw that Fizzarolli was as confused as you were. He was embarrassed that you thought he was so wonderful, because he didn't think he was as wonderful as you said. He gently took your hands in his and shyly said that his feelings for you were sincere and that you were the most wonderful person he had ever met

Fizz was genuinely glad that his feelings were mutual. He wanted you to be happy, especially after you expressed your uncertainty about his choice. He wanted to do as much for you as possible, at least as much as his powers allowed him

[rae-writes]

touches

om brothers; fluffy 'n a bit cracky, short 'n sweet

So, like, I had this thought that sometimes the boys can feel you touching their pact. Not all the time, it only works if you’re intending for them to feel it— and then I had these along with it: 

Slowly tracing over Lucifer’s pact during a student council meeting and watching him stare you down while you try your best not to cackle (or when you know he’s with Diavolo, to which you’ll receive many stickers over text that express his [flustered] disgruntlement) 

Frantically rubbing Mammon’s pact because you guys went to a store and he wandered off and left you and you can’t find him and he’s not answering his phone and you are not happy and then watching him skid around the corner five seconds later like he’s on fire, yelling out an apology 

Tapping over Satan’s pact in Morse code, usually ‘I love you’, but sometimes about cats you're passing by on the streets and receiving texts or calls so he can say it back (and or demand your location so he can pet that cat) 

Having an impulsive moment and deciding to chomp down on Levi’s pact, listening to/watching him shriek and nearly jump through the ceiling

Incessantly poking Asmo’s pact because he irritated you a little, grinning smugly because you can hear him grumbling as he does his makeup (only apologizes when he messes up because of it…he wasn’t being mean or anything! It was just a small inconvenience he didn’t think was important)

Having to smack Belphie’s pack- or get someone else to- because literally no other measures are working to wake him up. He falls off the bed and whines for a few hours, but he’s okay

Writing letters over Beel’s pact to talk to him when you aren’t near each other, asking if he wants to go get something to eat. He’s gotten really good at reading the phantom phrases and beams anytime he feels it

[dawnjaco22]

The Demon King and His Witch

Part 6: Birth, Blood, and Burning Love

The Birth of Karma and Katai

The night it happened, the skies above Hell split open with thunder.

Lightning cracked across the endless red plains.

The palace walls trembled.

Every beast and spirit in the Underworld howled in fear or awe.

Because something new — something terrible and beautiful — was being born.

Dawn’s screams tore through the palace as the labor hit her in brutal, rolling waves.

Asmodeus was beside her the entire time — no army of angels or demons could have dragged him away.

He held her hand, whispered every ancient blessing he knew, poured every ounce of his power into shielding her from the worst of it.

“Stay with me, my love,” he murmured again and again, pressing burning kisses to her sweat-drenched brow. “Stay with me.”

Dawn, fierce even in agony, bared her teeth at him.

“You did this to me,” she snarled between contractions.

Asmodeus grinned through his terror, kissing her knuckles.

“And I would do it again a thousand times, my queen.”

⸻

The delivery was hellish.

Even with all their magic — even with Gabriel hovering at the edges, silently reinforcing Dawn’s shields — it was a brutal, bloody battle.

But at last, at last—

A cry split the air.

Then another.

Two tiny, furious voices, howling their arrival into a world that would never be ready for them.

Karma — the elder by seconds — was born with a shock of inky black curls and a furious scowl so much like his father’s that Dawn burst into exhausted laughter.

Katai — softer-featured, but with sharp, ancient eyes — clutched his brother’s hand immediately, refusing to let go.

Asmodeus, cradling both his sons against his massive chest, felt something deep inside him shatter and rebuild itself anew.

He had conquered worlds.

He had burned cities to ash.

He had shattered angels and slain gods.

But nothing — nothing — could have prepared him for the overwhelming, helpless love he felt for these tiny, squalling pieces of himself and Dawn.

“You are my kings,” he whispered, tears running unchecked down his cheeks. “My heirs. My heart.”

And beside him, Dawn smiled weakly, already dozing, safe at last in his arms.

⸻

Reigniting the Fire

It took weeks for Dawn to heal enough for Asmodeus to even think about touching her properly again.

Weeks of him sleeping beside her, kissing her hands, her hair, her forehead — but never more.

Weeks of him aching — not just for her body, but for her soul, her fire, the wild burning bond they shared.

And finally — finally — one night, as the twins slept peacefully beside their sister Nadira in the royal nursery, Dawn turned to him in the great bed they shared, her eyes dark with a hunger he knew like his own heartbeat.

“Touch me,” she whispered.

He nearly broke apart right there.

He kissed her like a drowning man, desperate and reverent.

He touched every scar, every stretch mark, every soft place with hands that trembled from how much he adored her.

He worshiped her body, her soul, her existence, murmuring prayers in dead languages against her skin.

When he finally sank into her, it was not with the fury of a demon king —

but with the aching, desperate love of a husband who had nearly lost his world.

They moved together slowly at first, rediscovering each other, then faster — a crashing, burning star rekindled in their hearts.

When they collapsed together at last, tangled and breathless, Asmodeus buried his face in her hair and whispered, over and over,

“Mine. Mine. My queen. My love. My home.”

And Dawn, smiling sleepily against his chest, whispered back,

“Always.”

⸻

Family Chaos in Hell

Raising three magical children in the Underworld was…

An experience.

Dawn’s human family — now permanent residents of Hell after the apocalypse — did their best.

Her mother (“Nana”) insisted on traditional earth-style meals, dragging confused demon servants into kitchens and barking orders like a general.

Her father spent his days building a wooden playhouse in the middle of a lava field (“It’s good for their immune systems!” he insisted).

Her younger brothers tried (and failed) to babysit the kids one afternoon — resulting in Karma accidentally setting the west tower on fire and Nadira summoning a very polite but extremely large dragon.

Asmodeus tolerated the chaos with the brittle patience of a man who had once ruled through terror — and now ruled through tiny sticky hands pulling his hair and hiding under his throne.

⸻

The Kings of Hell — Uncles?!

Even stranger were the other demon kings.

Leviathan — the brooding lord of envy — became Nadira’s favorite naptime companion, grumbling the entire time as she braided his endless green-black hair.

Mammon — the lord of greed — tried to teach Karma how to count gold… only to have the boy steal his crown mid-lesson.

Belial — the prince of lies — ended up as the unwitting referee for Katai’s magically-enhanced toddler brawls with hellhounds.

Asmodeus watched it all with grim amusement, occasionally muttering about “corrupting the damn court.”

But secretly?

He loved it.

He loved seeing his children adored, protected, cherished — even by demons who had once vowed never to bow to anything but their own pride

[ironicallyyn]

The accuracy-!?

[softlypossessive]

♡･ﾟ𓏸 Sleeping With Them (Literally) 𓏸･ﾟ♡

♡ Characters: Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, Belphegor, gn!reader ♡ Warnings: Fluff, comfort, implied bad dreams, physical affection, mutual pining?? maybe??, Levi being awkward™, clingy behavior, some light tsundere energy, protective vibes, some suggestiveness (Asmo’s default setting), Beel being The Best™ ♡ Notes: This was purely self-indulgent and born from a burst of insomnia and a deep need for sleepy demon boy comfort. No prompt, just vibes. Gender-neutral reader. Each brother reacts in his own sweet, awkward way—and yes, they’re all canonically clingy now. I don’t make the rules.

𓏸⋆｡˚☁️˚｡⋆𓏸

🕯️Lucifer

 You find him still awake in the dead of night, seated at his desk, lit only by the glow of a single lamp

He's reviewing RAD paperwork with the usual stoic focus, barely glancing up when you enter

“Couldn’t sleep?” he asks, voice low, a touch concerned despite the neutrality in his tone

You nod, murmuring something vague about a bad dream, and instead of brushing you off, he gestures silently to the small sofa by the window

You sit with your blanket in hand, intending just to be nearby, and he lets you—doesn’t press for details, just returns to his work

Somewhere between the quiet scratch of his pen and the rhythmic turn of pages, your eyes slip shut

When you wake, it's morning. You're not on the sofa. You’re in his bed

The covers are warm, tucked carefully around you, and the scent of his cologne clings faintly to the pillow

His coat hangs neatly over the chair beside you, a fresh cup of tea steaming on the nightstand

He’s nowhere in sight, but you have the distinct feeling he didn’t sleep—just quietly carried you to bed when he saw your head nod

No one says anything about it later, but you catch him watching you a little longer at breakfast that morning

The kind of watchfulness that says: next time, just come straight to me

♡｡ﾟ☁︎｡♡ﾟ

💰 Mammon

He’s already in bed, hair rumpled, one leg kicked out of the blanket like always

You knock quietly and peek in, mumbling that you can’t sleep

His eyes go wide, then he fumbles upright, totally alert

“Wha—? You okay? What happened? You hurt?”

You tell him it’s just a nightmare, nothing big

He softens immediately, scoots over, and pats the mattress beside him like it’s obvious

“C’mon. Ain’t no bad dreams gonna mess with you while I’m here.”

You lie down next to him and he tries so hard to play it cool—arms behind his head, eyes on the ceiling

That lasts five seconds

He shifts closer like he’s not doing it on purpose, like you won't notice him curling toward you

When your hand brushes his by accident, he makes a strangled noise and goes stiff… then grabs it like it’s the most natural thing in the world

“Jus’ so ya don’t get cold,” he mutters, clearly blushing even in the dark

You fall asleep fast, wrapped up in warmth and the quiet muttering of “I gotcha, I’m here” under his breath

When you wake up, he’s out cold, drooling slightly, and clinging to you like a barnacle

You try to move. His grip tightens. You are not escaping

♡｡ﾟ☁︎｡♡ﾟ

🎮 Leviathan

You didn’t even mean to fall asleep

One second you were watching a cozy slice-of-life anime with him, head tipped against the beanbag, and the next, darkness

Levi notices right away

He panics internally. 

Like full-blown “I’m not equipped to deal with this cuteness” meltdown

But you look… comfortable. Peaceful. So he freezes in place

Slowly, carefully, he lowers the volume, gets up, and drapes his hoodie over your shoulders

He debates letting you stay there all night—but what if you get a crick in your neck? What if you wake up cold?

Eventually, he picks you up. Carries you. Cradles you like a rare body pillow

You don’t wake up

He tucks you into his bed, sets a Ruri-chan plush beside you for moral support, and flops onto the floor with a blanket and his headphones

When you wake up, it’s early morning. His lights are dimmed pink, the room is silent, and he’s snoring softly with a controller still in his hands

You stare at him for a long minute, heart aching a little at how sweet he looks like that

You don’t say anything when he wakes up an hour later, scrambling into an apology

You just smile and tell him you slept fine

He’s red for a full day

♡｡ﾟ☁︎｡♡ﾟ

📚 Satan

He’s in his room reading, legs folded under him on the couch, a novel in one hand and a mug of tea in the other

You knock gently, eyes tired, and when he sees your face, he softens

“Bad dreams?” he asks, and there’s no teasing in it—just genuine concern

Without a word, he shifts to make space, patting the cushion beside him

You curl up with your blanket, shoulder brushing his, and he casually pulls another throw over both of you

He doesn’t say much, but his presence is calm, anchoring

Eventually your head tips against his arm and your breathing slows

He waits a few minutes to be sure you’re truly out, then sets his book aside and just… watches you

Not in a creepy way—just quietly fascinated by how peaceful you look, even after the nightmare

When you wake, you’re no longer on the couch—you’re in his bed, under soft sheets

The book he’d been reading is closed beside you, and there’s a little note tucked into the pages with your name on it

You keep it

♡｡ﾟ☁︎｡♡ﾟ

💅 Asmodeus

He’s brushing out his hair at his vanity when you show up at his door, looking rumpled and half-asleep

“Darling, what’s wrong?” he coos, spinning around in a silk robe

When you admit you couldn’t sleep, his whole demeanor changes—still sweet, but softer, more grounded

“Say no more. Come here.”

He leads you straight to his bed, the sheets cool and silky, the scent of his perfume already comforting

You curl up under the covers while he finishes his routine—face mask, lip balm, a quick spritz of sleep spray

Then he slips in beside you, warm and gentle, his arm draped loosely over your waist

He talks to you in low whispers about nothing important—pretty things, soft clothes, silly gossip—until your eyes close

The moment you drift off, he goes quiet, tucking your hair behind your ear and watching your face with a look so tender it almost doesn’t feel like Asmo

The next morning, you wake up to a kiss on the forehead and a softly sung “good morning, sleepyhead”

He never lets you forget how cute you looked curled up against him—but there’s something genuine in his voice when he adds,

“If you ever need me again, you know where I am.”

♡｡ﾟ☁︎｡♡ﾟ

🍔 Beelzebub

It starts with you falling asleep in the kitchen

You’d gone down for a late-night snack, found Beel already there eating cereal straight out of the box

He didn’t say much, just gave you a smile and pushed the box your way

You talked for a while, then leaned against the counter… then slumped onto the bench… and then lights out

Beel doesn’t wake you. Just watches you for a bit to make sure you’re really asleep

Then he scoops you up, careful like you’re made of glass

You wake up halfway through the walk to his room, tucked against his chest

“You looked tired,” he says simply. “You can sleep here tonight.”

His bed smells like vanilla protein powder and fresh laundry. He hands you one of his shirts as a sleep top. It’s comically large

Beel climbs into bed after you and stays on “his side” at first—very polite, very stiff, very big brother energy

But the second you roll toward him, drowsy and half-mumbling his name? He’s there

One arm around your waist, tucking you in close. His chin rests against the top of your head

“I’ll stay up a little longer to make sure the nightmare doesn’t come back,” he whispers

He’s asleep within five minutes

You wake up entirely under him. Full body weight. He's warm. You can't move. He looks peaceful. You stay there

♡｡ﾟ☁︎｡♡ﾟ

💤 Belphegor

You creep into the attic room after a nightmare, not expecting him to be awake

He is

Barely opens one eye, gives you a sleepy “What’s wrong?”

You whisper that you can’t sleep, and he lifts the covers without another word

No teasing, no drama—just the quiet shift of space being made for you

You crawl in beside him, the star-speckled canopy of the ceiling above you

His arms find your waist automatically. He’s already half-asleep again

“You’ll sleep better here,” he mumbles against your shoulder. “I always do”

 Within seconds, he’s out cold

But you’re not. Not yet

You lie there for a bit, warm and stunned, because his breathing is deep and even and his grip is loose but protective

 Eventually, you drift off

When you wake up, Belphie’s draped over you like a sleepy octopus, your legs tangled, his head tucked under your chin

“Don’t move,” he mumbles without opening his eyes

You don’t

You fall asleep again

𓏸⋆｡˚☁️˚｡⋆𓏸

[another-lost-mc]

Welcome Home: When MC returns from the past.

Featuring: The Demon Brothers x gn!Reader

SFW // Content: Bittersweet angst with a happy ending. It's implied that MC has been gone for a significant amount of time and that the demon brothers spiraled after MC disappeared. Includes mentions of unhealthy coping mechanisms including: drinking; implied self-isolation, depression; destructive or violent behaviour; mention of blood/injuries; mentions of Lesson 16 events. 6.9k words.

Read The Worst Goodbye (part one) here.

LUCIFER

Lucifer glances at the clock on his desk and sighs wearily, rubbing the heel of his palms against his eyes.

He already knows it’s going to be another long night of forcing himself to focus on filling out paperwork, on preparing student council memos and the countless other tasks he’s taken upon himself since you disappeared.

A cursed record plays quietly and the fire in the hearth crackles each time a log shifts or splinters. 

A nearly-empty glass of Demonus leaves a rim of condensation on the dark wood desk. He used to keep track of the days that have passed in your absence, but now he counts the empty bottles of that bittersweet amber drink instead.

It’s not only his own vices that weigh heavily on his mind; his brothers aren’t faring any better without you. Their behaviour swings wildly from bored indifference to reckless abandon. He’s not sure what’s worse: forcing them from their rooms when some of them refuse to go to class or work (or eat and bathe or shower), or dealing with their chaos when they decide to replace grief and misery with the wicked temptations and misdeeds of their sins.

You would be disappointed in them, he thinks. You would be disappointed in them all.

But what else can they possibly do while they wait for some glimmer of hope that you’ll come home again?

He remembers the tense conversation he had with Diavolo about your situation after you disappeared with barely a hint of warning. All he had were Solomon’s vague assurances of your eventual return to comfort him.

Lucifer listened to Diavolo’s insufficient apologies and condolences, but he couldn’t help but glance at Barbatos whose sharp gaze was at odds with the neutral expression on his face. He wondered how much the butler knew about your misfortune, and he’s wondered since then if he should’ve fought harder to force him to bring you back from wherever you were.

Now he passes his time with busywork because he has no one to remind him not to work. He drinks too much to dull the pain in his head and his heart. He sleeps on the couch in his office, or sometimes he slumps on his desk when exhaustion consumes him, because it’s better than lying in his large, empty bed alone.

It shouldn’t have surprised Lucifer that Cerberus eventually realized you were gone too. He went to the family tomb one evening, startled awake by three mournful howls that shook the foundations of the house. He used the bit of magic that gave Cerberus a manageable house-friendly size and without warning, the dog ran past him up the stairs. When Lucifer found him again, the three-headed dog was whining pitifully and pawing at your bedroom door. 

Lucifer hadn’t entered your room since you left, but he had to prove that you weren’t there. That didn’t stop his hound from searching the rest of the house before returning to Lucifer’s side, ears drooping and each head whining in confusion as they bumped against his legs.

Cerberus has barely left his side since, trailing after him and sleeping in front of the fire while Lucifer’s pen scratches quietly across the papers on his desk.

Lucifer contemplates giving up on his work for the night and resting on the sofa, but he frowns when Cerberus stands up suddenly and trots across the room. The door must not have been closed tight because he nudges the door open with one of his snouts. All three heads tilt curiously and he sniffs noisily. Lucifer rises from his chair with a curse when the hound bolts out of the room, howling as he runs out of the library and into the dark hallway past.

Lucifer’s steps are slow and clumsy at first as he shakes off his desperate need for sleep, but he needs to catch the noisy creature first. The last thing he wants to deal with right now is his brothers waking up in the middle of the night in foul moods and causing even more of a ruckus.

The dog’s strange howling stops somewhere near the front of the house, and Lucifer freezes when he turns the corner just in time to see Cerberus knock someone to the floor.

You.

He knocked you to the floor so each of his heads could yip excitedly and lick at your face. When you laugh and try to push the animal away, Cerberus plops down on your legs and seems content to keep you trapped there.

Lucifer, staring wide-eyed and speechless, takes a hesitant step, and then another, before breaking into a run.

It’s not long after that when each of his brothers each stumble drowsily into the hallway, grumbling and snarling and glaring because of the loud disturbance that woke them from their sleep.

Their tempers die down and it's utter chaos when they process the sight in front of them: Lucifer chuckling while you hold each other in the middle of the hallway floor near your bedroom, the Avatar of Pride wearing a rare smile and with even rarer tears shining in his eyes, and Cerberus panting happily nearby as if he was the one who brought you home for his grumpy master to find.

MAMMON

Mammon spins in a slow circle where he dangles from the dining room ceiling. The rope binding his hands behind his back doesn't budge no matter how hard he tries to rip it apart and set himself free.

"Yo, someone get me down from here, will ya? All this spinning's makin' me dizzy!"

But he knows it's useless. None of his brothers will test Lucifer's short fuse by setting Mammon free, and there aren't any brave humans around to help him anymore.

"It wasn't even that bad. I swear I was gonna return it..." Mammon grumbles to himself. So what if he's gotten a little reckless lately? He's no worse than his brothers are, but that arrogant prat Lucifer doesn't tie them up like this.

He braces himself for a long, boring day, spinning for hell knows how long, until Lucifer remembers to set him free.

"Oh no. Mammon. What did you do to upset him this time?"

His body jerks when he hears—thinks he hears a familiar voice. He recognizes the silhouette of the shadow that stands in the doorway briefly before stepping towards him, but he shakes his head like it’ll make the illusion fade away.

That's gotta be his imagination, right?

"You son of a—this is a cheap shot, even for you," Mammon snarls, cursing Lucifer for teasing him with an illusion of all things. Why else would you suddenly appear before him like a dream - or a nightmare - except to taunt him?

Isn't suffering without you punishment enough?

“Here, let me help you…” The voice is quieter now, but close. Gentle hands tug uselessly at the cursed rope holding him in place and he clenches his eyes shut tight and reminds himself that you’re not here.

But then he recognizes the sound of a tongue clicking in frustration, the barely-audible murmurs about Lucifer needing to loosen up, and he crumples in a heap on the floor when a spell he doesn’t recognize causes the ropes to vanish without a trace.

He bumps into someone’s legs when he rolls over, but he doesn’t get up. He throws an arm over his eyes instead.

It's not you, it's not you, it's not you—

But he grunts when a heavy weight suddenly plops down on top of him and he can’t help but breathe deep when a familiar scent tickles his nose. It makes him shiver, gives him hope, and he whimpers.

You nudge his arm aside so you can cup his cheeks in your palms and force him to look at you. Your thumbs swipe away the tears that slip from the corner of his eyes; you're not sure if the sound that rips from his throat is a sob or a laugh.

He stares at you for a long time before he speaks again, and for the first time in ages, he feels something other than pain.

"Don't you dare think of leavin' me behind the next time you decide to disappear like that," he threatens. There's no heat in his voice, only slow acceptance and relief that you're finally back where you belong—with him.

He crushes you against his chest in a tight hug while you whisper apologies into the crook of his neck, and you stay that way - curled together in the middle of the dining room floor - until the others find you later.

LEVIATHAN

Thump-thump-thump.

Levi's TV across the room drones on quietly, a random anime DVD playing on repeat for the dozenth time, but he doesn't pay attention to it.

Thump-thump-thump.

Levi's computer pings faintly, barely audible over the hum of Henry's aquarium. He hasn't sat at his desk in ages, he hasn't logged in for any of his gaming events or guild raids and he stopped keeping track of what his favourite idols are up to. Notifications on his social media accounts and emails are ignored and left unread.

Thump-thump-thump.

His D.D.D. vibrates somewhere in the tangled mess of blankets and pillows underneath him but he ignores that too. It's probably Lucifer reminding him that he needs to go to class sometime this week.

Unlike his brothers, Levi's not going to pretend he's fine.

He hasn't been fine for a long time.

Thump-thump-

A knock on his door startles him and his tail stops thrumming against the side of his porcelain tub. He pokes his head out from the nest of blankets he buried himself in and glares at the door across the room. The orange of his irises flare in a menacing glow from underneath the hood pulled over his head, the drawstrings chewed and frayed ages ago.

Everyone knows not to bother him. It was a very simple request.

Are they stupid?

He pulls himself out of the tub with his teeth bared. Maybe a little scuffle with one of his nosy siblings will make him feel better—will make him feel something.

He yanks the door open but freezes when he recognizes you, standing in front of him as if you didn't vanish from his life without a trace. Your knuckles are raised like you were about to knock again, and you rock back and forth on your heels as you lower your hand in embarrassment.

Levi's mouth flaps open and shut, but before you can say anything, he lets out a high-pitched squeak and slams the door shut in your face.

That's not the worst reaction you imagined, so you consider it a win.

You press your ear against the door. There's shuffling inside his room, the faint sounds of something hitting the sides of his tub. You knock again softly to warn him before you push the door open and let yourself inside.

Aside from the glow from the aquarium, his room is dark and suffocating. You step gingerly over the piles of books and movies strewn haphazardly across the floor; he never used to be so careless with his collections. An empty food wrapper crinkles under your foot and you hope he hasn't been surviving only on his private stash of imported candy.

There's a familiar lumpy shape laying across the bottom of the tub when you peer over the edge. His sniffles are muffled by the blankets and pillows he's hiding under. The only part of him you can see is his tail that dangles limply over the side.

You sit down next to his tail, careful not to touch it in case he doesn't want you to. It was always a sensitive part of himself and he didn't like others touching it so freely; you're not sure he'll grant you that privilege again anytime soon.

"Levi?"

His tail twitches at the sound of your voice. He doesn't say anything, but his eyes peer out from a gap in his little hideaway. There's a lot of emotion swirling in the gaze that narrows at you suspiciously: pain, confusion, anger—all tempered with the tiniest bit of hope.

You lean forward and press your hand against him where you think the curve of his shoulder is. You're gentle enough that he can ignore it or shake you off if he wants. His body deflates under your hesitant touch like he finally let go of the breath he's been holding for so long. He blinks at you, eyes widening as he dares himself to believe you're actually there. More of his face peeks out at you when he slowly peels the blanket away.

"I'm back." The words croak out of you, and your voice is watery like the tears that sting your eyes. His only response is a wounded noise he makes at the back of his throat. You recognize it instantly—you made sounds just like it when you were first torn away from here. Away from him.

You know you have so much to explain and apologize for, and you don't even know where to start, but before you can say anything else, his tail coils around your wrist. You tumble forward when he pulls you down into the tub with him. His arms and legs and tail curl themselves around you, and if you didn't miss him as much as you did, you might complain about how uncomfortable it is.

He mumbles apologies into your chest because he was convinced that whatever happened to you was his fault somehow.

You spend a long time trying to reassure him it wasn't his fault at all.

SATAN

As soon as you get your bearings, stumbling in your room where the portal suddenly dropped you, you want to see Satan. You need to see him.

You love him. You missed him. You worried about him, and you worried for him. He might not always show his rage or act on his violent impulses with you anymore, but you can only imagine what he must've felt when you disappeared.

You saw what he was like before—young, lost, bewildered and so unspeakably angry—and you need to see for yourself what's happened since your untimely absence.

It's disorienting trying to make your way out of your bedroom. It's dark and a bit dusty, and the furniture isn't quite where you left it. You bump your knee and trip more than once making your way to the door. The knob sticks as if it hasn't been opened in ages.

Part of you pushes down the sting that maybe the brothers abandoned your room completely and tried to pretend you didn't exist since you’ve been gone.

(If you could see better in the near darkness, you'd know that most of your bookshelves and drawers are almost empty, picked clean by each of the siblings who took your belongings to keep in their rooms instead.)

Nothing can prepare you for what you find when you head up the stairs to the second floor and stop in front of Satan’s door, or what's left of it. There's giant gashes in the wood and you're careful not to scratch your arm on the sharp splinters where claws (or perhaps his tail) broke through it.

You used to tease Satan about the stacks of books he kept on the floor, organized chaos to anyone but him because he could tell you exactly where each and every book was kept. There's no wobbly piles of books on the floor to stumble into now. Broken book spines and torn pages litter the ground beneath your feet, and you can feel the crunch of glass that you assume are the remains of his old lanterns. Even his bed is barely recognizable—the mattress is ripped to shreds and the frame is bent and disjointed.

His bedroom is the embodiment of the fury deep inside him when he realized you were gone. Missing. Taken. And for all his power and his intelligence and wit, even he couldn't find a way to bring you back.

It wasn't your fault either, but faced with the evidence of his misery, you can't help but feel guilty.

You leave his room and in your daze, your feet lead you to the library next. There's a small part of you that fears Satan might've laid waste to another precious room in the house, but there's a flickering light underneath the doorway and you're hopeful it might be intact after all.

Like your room, the library's not quite the same as it was before. The shelves aren't as orderly, as if whoever's been reading the books and ancient tomes couldn't be bothered to put them back properly. There's a small stack of dishes piled on the table near the sofa—a strange sight because everyone knows it bothers Satan if they eat or drink in here. He hated the idea of spills or greasy fingerprints ruining the books by accident. Next to the sofa, a pile of books catches your eye because they're yours, taken from the bookshelves in your room. The spines are creased as if they've been read over and over again, acting as a poor replacement for your company.

There's a soft groan and you suddenly notice the figure laid back on the sofa. A familiar tuft of Satan's blonde hair rests on your pillow and your blanket spills over his legs and waist and onto the floor. The library is his temporary room, the sofa a makeshift bed where he keeps reminders of you close by, and he breathes deeply while he sleeps. His brow is creased as if he's unhappy even in his dreams.

You take a step forward and debate whether you should wake him up or not when the air shifts around you.

He moves faster than you can track with your eyes, launching himself off the couch and pinning you to the floor before you can even stutter out his name. His emerald gaze flickers with fiery rage, his hot breath fanning across your face, and his chest rumbles with a deep, predatory warning. His tail rises menacingly behind him and your throat runs dry at the very real threat hovering over you.

"S-Satan..."

It's almost comical, the way his eyes widen with recognition when you stutter out his name. He drinks in your appearance and by the time he scrambles off you and his demon form is gone. When he was confident in his anger moments ago, now he hesitates when he reaches out to you. He's not sure if you're really there or simply a mirage, the remnants of a dream he wishes he didn't have to wake up from.

As soon as you open your arms to him, he's in your embrace and nearly topples you both over in his haste to be close to you. His hands smooth up your arms and he cradles your jaw, tilting your head slowly as he checks for any sign of injury. He bumps his nose against yours when he's satisfied that you're unharmed, whether by his own hand or from someone else's, and he smiles a bit sheepishly when you do.

"I'm sorry I scared you."

"I'm sorry I left you."

He seems content holding you on the library floor, nuzzling against your temple and inhaling the familiar scent of your skin. It's such a simple thing, but he enjoys it.

He hasn't felt this relaxed in ages.

"I saw your room." You're not sure why you blurt that out of all the things you could talk about instead. "I went there first to find you."

He clears his throat and turns away as pink dusts his cheeks. "Ah, well...I might've gone overboard." He's quiet for a moment before he looks at you, feigning a look of innocence that poorly masks the amusement underneath. "If I told you it was Lucifer's fault, would you believe me?"

Laughter bubbles out of you and he chuckles too. "Not a chance! But I'll help you no matter whose fault it was. There's nothing we can't fix together, right?"

"I'd like that," he murmurs against your cheek. 

ASMODEUS

Asmo was heading to the kitchen when he crashed into someone coming out of your bedroom. His arms flailed wildly at his sides while he tried to keep his balance and stop himself from toppling over. He ran his fingers through the curtain of hair that fell into his eyes, and the venomous anger pouring from his mouth came to a screeching halt when he realized the person he bumped into was you.

Your eyes were wide with shock, but you couldn't decide what surprised you more: colliding with your beloved demon after so many dreary days forced apart, or the anger that poured from him in waves.

"I'm back," you explained dumbly. Obviously. But he blinked his eyes rapidly like he wouldn't believe it.

"How?! I mean, when did you—?"

Whatever he was going to say next caught in his throat as his eyes flitted over your appearance. His gaze was critical, honing in on the smallest little details, the things that are different from the way you looked when he last saw you. Something about your hands gets his attention, and he holds them both gently in his palms.

"Oh, hon, who's been helping you with your nails? The polish is chipped."

His mood shifts so rapidly that it gives you whiplash, and you glance down at your fingers. Maybe it has been a few days, and sure, they might look a little worse for wear, but you're baffled that he noticed that of all things.

"Well, technically, you've been doing them for me." You smile gently at the joke because his past self was just as attentive to your needs and loved taking care of you in the simplest ways.

It might be the wrong thing to admit out loud, though. The guarded look Asmo gives you is so cold, so detached that the amusement fades from your expression.

"The least I can do is help clean these up for you now that you're back, hmm?" His voice is loud and a bit shrill, cracking on some of the words. He spins on his heel and tugs on your hand as he heads towards the staircase.

He doesn't notice - or maybe he just doesn't care - that the commotion reached the dining room. His brothers stumble into the hallway and you can't make out anything they're saying as they all rush towards you and try to talk over each other.

A terrifying growl rips through the hallway and startles them all into silence. it makes your skin crawl because you know the sound came from Asmo. His brothers don't seem impressed by him attempting to keep you to himself when you've just returned, but his aura crackles with something menacing and even Lucifer thinks twice about trying to stop him.

"We'll talk to you after you've had a moment to catch up in private," he suggests loudly. Asmo huffs in annoyance but his pace doesn't falter. He holds your hand tightly in his grip and you have little choice but to follow him up the steps towards his room. You shoot Lucifer and his brothers an apologetic glance before they disappear from view.

You're nearly at the top of the steps when a flurry of movement on the ground startles you. Familiar black shapes weave between your legs and snap teasingly at your ankles. You curl against Asmo's back with a nervous little yelp.

"They won't hurt you, you know that," he reminds you with a coo, and there's a gentle cadence to his voice that reminds you so much of the demon you missed all this time. He winks at you over his shoulder before he looks down at the scorpion familiars skittering on the floor, each of them radiating the faint pink glow of his power. "They'll make sure my brothers don't bother us."

As soon as Asmo ushers you into his room, he steers you gently towards his bed. The smile curling his lips looks strained. "Wait for a moment, darling, I'm going to—"

You reach for the sleeve of his dressing gown and stop him from leaving to do whatever he had planned. "Asmo, wait." You pat the bed. "I don't care about that right now. My nails can wait until later."

He bites his lip and his eyes are glassy as they fill with tears. He sniffles a little under his breath and wipes his face with his sleeve. "But I'm the one who's supposed to take care of you, not—" he looks away as his cheeks turn splotchy. "It's not fair that he was there for you when you belong here with me." He bites his bottom lip when it starts to quiver and he chokes out a sob. "I missed you so much."

You glance around his bedroom and his strange behaviour starts to make sense when you notice all the small things he's changed while you've been gone.

His vanity and closets are cluttered and not organized flawlessly like usual.

Your eyes pause on a strange, heart-shaped stain on his vanity mirror that you’re too nervous to ask about right now.

(In a moment of frustration, he smashed his fist into the glass the first night you disappeared. He repaired it with magic but smears of blood remained even when the cracks in the mirror vanished. He drew the little heart with his fingertip while he whispered your name like he thought it might summon you back to him, and he cried when it didn’t.)

His bed smells like the fragrance you normally wear, something you brought with you from the human world and he claimed he didn't like very much.

He removed his pillow cases and slipped some of your shirts over his pillows instead.

You wonder how you didn't realize sooner that the dressing gown he's wearing is yours, one of many gifts he gave you after you started dating.

His room is filled with your belongings, things he clung desperately to while he hoped and begged for you to come back to him.

"I think tonight we should take care of each other then, don't you?"

You hold your hand out to him, and it only takes a moment for him to stumble over to the bed. He gathers you in his arms and holds you so tightly that it's hard to breathe, like he's scared to let you go. You tangle your fingers in his clothes because you're just as needy as he is.

He whimpers your name against your neck,  interspersed with little kisses that are featherlight but still enough to make your head spin; your tears roll down your cheeks and mix with his, and they're wet and salty on his lips. He murmurs an inaudible mantra as he drags his mouth over your jaw so he can kiss you properly, and it leaves you both breathless.

—I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you—

The others aren't surprised at all when you and Asmo lock yourselves away in his room 'til morning. 

BEELZEBUB

The joy of returning home turns bitter in your heart when you realize Beel isn't there. His brothers are in the dining room and hear the noise when the portal unceremoniously drops you in the middle of your bedroom floor. They hear a thump and a soft oof! and by the time they scramble out of their seats and into the hall, you're already stumbling through the door and rubbing the soreness from your back.

The weight of six demons attempting to hug you drags you back down to the floor, but this time you're cushioned in someone's lap and suddenly the floor doesn't seem all that bad. Even though you're being squeezed within an inch of your life and they're all talking (and crying and stuttering) over each other, their voices are similar yet so different from the ones you heard in the past, you can't bring yourself to care.

By the time they quiet down to give you a chance to get a word in, you're hugged and warmed and loved like you haven't been in a long time.

The only thing that's bittersweet about your long-awaited reunion is Beel's absence.

"He's at Fangol practice," Belphie says. His voice is slightly muffled since he can't seem to stop nuzzling your shoulder. "He should be home soon."

Asmo's fingers are already tapping quickly across his D.D.D. "I tried calling already but he didn't answer. He'll want to know you're back."

"He might not see the message in the middle of practice," Lucifer warns him from somewhere at your back. "Perhaps one of us should go get him?"

There's a tinkling ping not long after and Asmo waves his phone in your face, but you can't possibly read it.

"Ha! And you thought it would be a waste of time, hmm? Well, I'll have you know that Beel said...'ok'? Huh." Asmo winces when disappointment flickers across your face at Beel's lack-of response. "I'm sure he's excited to see you! You know he's not very fond of texting."

"I think I'll wait for him in his room." The brothers slowly detangle themselves from you and return to the dining room to give you some privacy. They might not like it, but they know that something happened between you and Beel before you disappeared.

You turn around at the sound of footsteps jogging behind you and see Belphie trying to catch up. "I didn't want to say anything with the others around," he says quietly, "but you don't have anything to worry about. I already know he's rushing home to see you even if he didn't say he was."

"How can you be so sure?" You sniffle quietly and stare at your feet. "We had the worst fight before I—before what happened, and he was so angry."

Belphie glances at you over his shoulder as he pushes open the door to the bedroom he shares with his twin. “Trust me when I say that he’s not angry anymore, alright?”

You step into the room behind Belphie and instantly glance at the side of the room where Beel sleeps. You didn’t realize that your bed was stripped before but your pillows and blankets ended up on his bed. There are framed photos of you and Beel on his bedside table, and the sign you made for his last Fangol game - the one you missed when you disappeared - is hanging on the wall. 

“I can’t believe he kept that,” you whisper. The bright, sparkly paint spells out Beel’s name and jersey number in large, bubbly writing. The edges of the poster board are frayed and bent, but it’s obvious he tried to preserve it.

Maybe he missed you as much as you missed him after all.

Thundering steps outside catch your attention and you turn around in time to see Beel lean against the doorway like he sprinted home.

There are bags from Hell’s Kitchen hanging from Beel’s arm but Belphie hops off his bed and plucks the bags from his brother with a hum. “I’ll put these in the kitchen for later.” He pauses and gives his brother a pointed look, nodding not-too-discreetly in your direction, before leaving the room and closing the door behind him.

You’re not sure how long you stare at each other. His eyes take greedily over your face and body and he frowns like he’s scrutinizing your appearance, trying to see how—if—you’ve changed, searching out any potential injuries you might be hiding and how he can punish those responsible.

Likewise, you take in his field-worn appearance, the grass stains and dirt that clings to his uniform and skin. His hair is matted down and he smells strongly of evening dew and sweat. 

He’s filthy and grimy but you’ve never wanted him more in your life.

He grunts when you nearly launch yourself into his arms. Maybe later he’ll feel guilty about ruining your clothes with mud from the Fangol pitch, but when he breathes in deep and soaks in the familiar scent of your skin, all those insignificant problems melt away.

“I brought dinner for us,” he murmurs quietly as his cheek nuzzles against you. “If you don’t mind putting up with seeing me like this a little bit longer, I’d like to eat with you before I shower.” His chapped lips brush over your brow. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” You cup his cheek and offer him a bright and teary-eyed smile. “And you know what? I think I’m starving.”

It’s not long after that containers of your favorite takeout are spread out on the dining room table. The others have vanished, probably at Belphie’s insistence, and you’re grateful to have this quiet time together.

If you end up in his lap while he practically feeds you, sneaking little tastes for himself with lingering kisses he presses gently to your mouth, that’s no one else’s business but yours and his.

BELPHEGOR

Belphie can't remember the last time he's gone this long without a proper night's sleep. When his brothers have trouble sleeping, plagued by haunted memories and their most insidious fears, he can put their minds at ease.

He tells himself it's a selfish gesture, because if his brothers' dreams are too vivid or too disturbing or too terrible for him to ignore, he can't sleep either.

The truth is, he doesn't want them to suffer.

Unfortunately, the Avatar of Sloth has no such saviour to save him from his own bad dreams. He can't call them nightmares because that's not what they are. They're fragments of memory and echoes of his deepest desires that plague him every time he closes his eyes.

More often than not, his brothers’ dreams are haunted by the ghost of you that disappeared without a trace. Every night when someone dreams of you, Belphie dreams of you too.

It reminds him of the cold, slippery sensation the night that your consciousness was dragged away into the unknown. The place in his dreamscape where your little pond of dreams and nightmares used to be is a black void in his subconscious, a gaping wound in his mind that rivals the empty spot in his bed where you used to sleep. Your warmth is gone and it leaves his sheets and heart bitter-cold.

Today, Belphie wakes up from a rowdy disturbance coming from somewhere else in the house.

His brothers can be so loud sometimes.

The voices downstairs that wake him quiet into an excited hush when they notice his arrival.

"Belphie!" Asmo cries happily when he reaches the bottom of the attic stairs and steps out into the hallway. "We were about to come wake you—look who's finally come back to us!"

Whatever his brother yammers on about next is drowned out by the static ringing in his ears; Belphie stares at the awkward group hug on the floor in front of him and has no idea what to say.

You looked a little embarrassed sitting in Lucifer's lap while Mammon clings to one arm and Levi holds the other. Your eyes are bright and watery with tears and a wobbly smile tugging at the corner of your lips when you realize he was there.

A trembling hand reaches out to him, uncertain but inviting. A hopeful gesture.

Countless times, Belphie imagined what he might do or say if–when–you finally came home. He was ready to spill his guts at your feet and beg you not to leave him like that ever again. He would apologize over and over again for all the terrible things he’s said and done before because he couldn't help thinking this was somehow his fault.

For reasons he can’t explain, unexplainable anger rises inside him and smothers the impulse to celebrate your return. The desperate urge to crawl into your lap and cling to you fizzles into nothing the longer he stares at you.

You know how badly he sleeps when you're not cuddled in bed next to him. It’s your fault he feels so awful, isn’t it?

He can only imagine what he looks like now, with his bedhead hair and pouty lips and the flaky crust of dried tears still clinging to the corners of his eyes. He rubs his face to wipe away the remnants with sleep, but he feels the familiar sting of hot tears building up instead.

Your love has made a terrible mess of him, and he’s not ready for this after all.

Someone shouts after him when he turns on his heel and heads back up the attic stairs without a word. He keeps walking and ignores the soft, wounded noise behind him; his brothers were quick to try and comfort you where he cannot.

"Let's give him a bit of space," someone suggests quietly. 

Slamming the attic door doesn’t feel as satisfying as Belphie hoped it would. He collapses back onto the bed and throws the blanket over his head. He tosses and turns and by the time he falls into another restless sleep, he still can't decide whether he's relieved or devastated that you didn't follow him.

It's deep in the twilight hours when Belphie senses a familiar dip of the mattress when someone slips into bed beside him. He tries to stay submerged in the weightless realm of sleep, but the sudden warmth of a hand resting hesitantly on his back ruins that plan.

"Isn't there someone else you can bother?" he grumbles into the pillow. He fell asleep face down and he stubbornly refuses to look at you. “Go away.”

"I’m sorry.” A heavy pause. “I couldn't sleep." Your voice is quiet but it shakes with something vulnerable that catches Belphie's attention.

With an indignant huff, he turns his head and pries an eye open and glances your way. The attic is shrouded in darkness but he can still see the downturned frown of your lips. When he rolls onto his side and leans closer, he looks past the watery film that makes your eyes shimmer and notices the dark shadows underneath them that he didn’t notice before.

Exhaustion radiates off you and he can’t help but wonder how long it’s been since you had a proper night’s sleep too.

He doesn’t ask about the things you did while you were gone or the things you saw. He remembers well enough what his own heart was like back then in that murky stretch of time when he clung to rage and hatred to soothe his own despair.

He doesn’t ask if you still have bad dreams about death or monsters that wear his face and sneer as you struggle against the bruising grip around your throat. He feels guilty that maybe he wasn’t there to save you from the version of himself that lurks in your memory.

The stiffness in his bones deflates as the chill from the attic subsides, replaced by the warmth of your body lying close to his. He places his hand tentatively on your waist and when you don’t flinch or move away, he urges you closer.

"I can help if you want," he offers hesitantly, a feeble apology to start to make amends.

But you understand the meaning behind the gesture for what it is: a peace offering for now until you can talk properly later. Considering his reaction earlier, this is more than you could've hoped for.

“I was scared to ask for help at first," you admit quietly when you rest your ear over his heart and sigh as the soft, familiar rhythm thumps deep in his chest. “You were angry earlier and I didn’t want to upset you even more if you weren’t ready to see me yet.”

Belphie ducks his head low and rubs your back as he buries his nose in the crook of your neck. The vibration of his noncommittal hum tickles your skin. “I’ll help you sleep tonight so you can make it up to me tomorrow.”

Tomorrow and the day after that, and the day after that–

Convinced that he isn’t going to push you away and judging the coy grip of his tail that’s suddenly found itself wrapped around one of your legs, you let yourself lean against him fully with a long, weary sigh. It doesn't take long for your eyes to slip closed or for your breathing to sync with his as he lulls you gently into a peaceful state of rest.

Belphie feels his eyes grow heavy once he’s certain that you’re dreaming peacefully. He does sleep better when you’re here, after all. He’s held you in his arms like this before, far too many times for him to count, but it feels different than he remembers.

Has holding you like this always felt this satisfying, or did he take for granted all those times he dragged you to bed and assumed you'd still be there when he woke up?

He won’t make that mistake again.

"I missed this, you know," he whispers against the soft spot on your throat where your heart beat is strongest, pressing lazy kisses against your skin. He closes his eyes with a satisfied smile even though you don’t respond; the way your body melts against his is proof enough that you missed him too.

Read More: Obey Me Masterlist

[vampireistic]

failed replaced!MC AU

ཐི synopsis: diavolo has sent down a brand new human exchange student! one that, unfortunately, seems to be very keen on stealing all the limelight for themselves…with such pathetic results it’s almost endearing.

ཐི feat. demon bros

ཐི warnings: mentions of blood/injury, second person

ཐི a/n: yanked this idea from @squeakyducky ! ٩( ᐛ )و named the human exchange student “notus” after the greek god of the south wind because in the comic the MC is called “zephyr” after the god of the west wind (not directly in opposition of one another in mythology but i thought it would be fitting). + also this is kinda long…(;_;)

You weren’t upset about having a new human exchange student, no-one really was, but just the gut feeling that Diavolo was going to throw you in as their guide was really starting to irk you (having to deal with several argumentative debate-lords thirsty for your attention doesn’t give you much energy to deal with newbies).

Who knew though? Maybe this was exactly what you needed; a break from all the fantasy in the world for a touch of realism. A touch of home.

However, soon as that portal twinkled to reveal a rather attractive human figure bursting with confidence, your latent arcane abilities smelled trouble. But then again, you were rarely right about first glance opinions on people, maybe this was just another instance?

Ok, well, when you tried going up to introduce yourself you were met with a glare so maybe you weren’t so wrong after all. Benefit of the doubt, you repeat to yourself. You remember being particularly snappy to people within your first arrival - it’s natural instinct! I mean the brother’s also threatened to eat you on the first day here, perhaps they’re just naturally standoffish.

“This is Notus, our newest human exchange student! Please be sure to give them a warm welcome.” Diavolo’s voice boomed across the council hall, eyes gleaming with excitement. Like the first time, the brothers introduce themselves one by one, each a little more on edge than the last - maybe they felt that weird energy too?

Whatever, you pushed those thoughts aside for the time being and took on the role as the newest babysitter for a human that seemed to have a much unnecessary distance while walking next to you.

──────────────────────

It started off fine:

Occasional misplacement of your items; an untied shoelace that makes you trip (with Mammon getting a heart attack as he pulls you up by your wrist); messing up an elixir you were sure that you measured correctly; and opening your bag to find your homework gone.

Childish antics that you tried your best to push blame onto either your own forgetfulness or a misplaced prank that was meant to mess with Lucifer. But somehow, it got so much worse - and that little demonic human decided to finally take fault of their pranks by flaunting it off with pride.

“Oh, MC?” Notus caught your attention with a double tap on your shoulder. “Did you enjoy the nature reserve?” Mammon tilted his head to the side, confusion scrunching his face as he looked over at you.

“It was really lame, Thirteen would’ve done better.” Of course you were not referring to an actual excursion, no, you mean the wild animals that had magically found themselves a snuggly home in your bed as well as the plethora of Devildom-specific deadly mushrooms and herbs that replaced your old plant pots.

“Hah? What are you two yappin’ about?” Mammon huffed, clearly annoyed that he wasn’t part of this big secret that you two seemed to share. Notus smugly cuddled up to him, arms wrapping around his bicep a little too tight. “Oh it’s nothing! Just a little…gift, I got MC as a thank you for being such a great guide!”

“Oi! How come I never got anythin’ from ya when I had to babysit?” His brows furrow as he clearly attempts to, rather nicely, shrug off the unwanted attention. This is the first time you’ve seen Mammon look so visibly uncomfortable - clearly oblivious to such a fact, Notus continued snuggling themselves closer, trailing their fingers up and down Mammon’s arm.

Of course, you ended up telling all of this Lucifer, to which he implemented a special spell on your lock so no sneaky human that’s barely acquainted with magic could unlock, with the reassurance that if these “pranks” and unwanted behaviours escalate, it would be taken to Lord Diavolo directly.

──────────────────────

Mammon was an obvious first victim for this weird power trip of a game - he’s as kind as a lamb and just the teeniest bit dumb (lovingly so, you reassure him) - but somehow the antics got more assertive and the targets much more hazardous. Satan. Honestly at this point, all you could feel was pity as you sat in the living room, nose buried in a book that Solomon had instructed you to study.

Notus had lived alongside you for a little over two weeks now, and while those small pranks continued, this is the first time you’ve seen them take on an “opponent” that would be way too much to chew. Sliding onto the couch with a careless saunter, Notus cozied themselves up into a cushion right near Satan’s arm, their breath basically ghosting over his neck. His face twitched.

“What?” Satan scowled, a face you haven’t seen in a while crunching his usually stoic expression to a frown.

“Sataan, can you please help me study? I’m struggling in Seductive Speechcraft and need a bit of…” their hand awkwardly inches closer to his hair, “guidance.”

“Go find a book or ask your lecturer.” He aids somewhat clamly, before that mask slips off momentarily to threaten them: “Don’t bother me, you’ll regret it.”

Well, that ended quicker than you expected. Guess even the ever so bold exchange student cowers at the icy glare from the Avatar of Wrath? You can’t help but giggle from where you sat, to which Notus immediately looks up for, facing twisted in an ugly scowl.

──────────────────────

After the failure that didn’t even really begin that was the day before, Notus went for someone much more gullible and easy to please. The favourite orange-haired glutton. Offering him a massive, drool-worthy sponge cake from the human world that they swear, “MC asked me to deliver!” He wasted no time in scarfing down the citric frosting soon as that familiar melodic sound of your name hit his ears.

Beelzebub isn’t known to be someone who’s reluctant to not eat things - unless it’s Mammon’s or Solomon’s sacrilegious cooking - but in this case he wished he could control himself when it came to things that look and smelt promising. Because soon as that icing coated his tongue, his belly grumbled with a heinous rage. Not one born from hunger, no, but rather nausea. Thankfully, Beel’s a big dude who can handle pretty much anything, so it’s not like whatever poison or foul-tasting potion that was slipped between the buttercream did him any damage (apart from ruining his mood), but nonetheless, he felt horrible and got a lengthy scolding from Belphie to boot.

He doesn’t blame you, you might’ve just messed up somewhere and that’s ok! Beel sets the rest of the cake aside with a little warning label that it made him feel ill and if it did him, it could probably kill anyone else, before scurrying off to find an actual bite to eat. Guilt did gnaw at him for a while because, normally, he’s easily able to eat anything you make since you make it with so much love! But Beel can also recognise foul play when he sees it and also comfortably assess that the icing used wasn’t mixed in the way you do it.

──────────────────────

These little instances stopped for a while, which made you foolishly believe that perhaps they learnt their lesson and decided to turn in for the better. Notus manages to surprise you once again - instead of targeting the brothers, the attention comes back to you. The original plan was; conjure up a curse on your pillow that forces you to have perpetual nightmares, which henceforth makes you irritable and hopefully slip up in front of the brothers, preferably make you so grouchy that you say something irredeemable.

What factor Notus failed to account for is the fact the brothers also LOVE your room, and a person who specifically loves stealing shit from you is Belphegor, who so unfortunately kidnapped that one pillow ridden with a curse while stumbling into your room with a drowsy head.

The House of Lamentation isn’t known for being quiet, so the bickering downstairs over breakfast overwhelmed the space per usual, but soon as those thumps of heavy footsteps echoed down the flight of stairs connected to the twin’s room - the house went eerily silent. An overly irritated Belphie ghosts into the room with darker eyebags than normal, his face hauntingly pale with a vein popping from his forehead, body limply dragging itself.

Notus felt the hairs on the back of their neck stand up as Belphie saunters behind them, looming over like an owl would a mouse before growling: “Do you always ruin the things you touch, or is this a hobby?” Belphie may be the youngest and therefore the weakest, but when it comes to anything dream and curse related, he will know exactly who’s behind it. And if you hadn’t taught him the slightest bit of mercy, he was sure Notus’ skin would serve Asmodeus as a nice handbag.

──────────────────────

Speaking of the jewel Asmodeus, Notus’ technique was much more…social sabotage based. Spreading a vile rumor around RAD that you made a disparaging comment about Asmodeus’ character was a sure fire way to get some sort of hate train going. Rumours spread fast around RAD, especially when concerning one of the Devildom’s most infamous partygoers, after all - and the drama was sure to escalate when the oddly beloved MC was involved. Notus devilishly giggled to themselves, before knocking on Asmodeus’ room, hands clasped together in faux prayer.

The door swings open to reveal Asmo adorned with silver jewellery that coiled together like moonlight kissed webs, earrings curling into shiny heart shaped crystals that he seemed to still be putting in. With a raise of a brow he smiled politely: “Yes, hon?”

“I saw the awful things MC said about you! I’m so sorry…you must be going through so much pain,” Notus sniffles, that drama class they took back in Year 9 really paying off for once. “If it’s any consolation I think you’re amazing…I mean even all your jewellery know looks like it was practically designed with your image in mind, it’s so glorious!”

Guess they took Satan’s advice after all.

Asmo is kind. Somewhat - ish…But not when it comes to people that use cheap tricks against his beloveds. Sure, the flattery was great, but appreciation is always better when it’s genuine and sincere, specifically your praise was something his vain heart sought afer. “Aw dear,” Asmodeus cooed, hands cupping Notus’ face gently, an act that makes them smile a little unnervingly. “If you knew me at all you’d know I designed these, quite recently in fact.”

Shit.

Notus felt their face heat up in embarrassment, hands suddenly clammy with sweat. Unsurprisingly, it doesn’t feel so great to be caught in a scorpion’s tail. “Sweetie,” he laughs, patting Notus’s shoulder with mock sympathy. “You could never turn me against MC. They’re real, and you’re just…trying too hard, aren’t you?”

The grip on Notus’ face suddenly tightens, that orange hue in Asmodeus’ eyes tinting a more saturated shade. “Feel free to say whatever you wish about me, but utter another word about my MC, and I’ll drain your marrow and leave your bones bare of sinews.”

A not so nice reminder that bloodlust is still a form of lust.

That backfired spectacularly. Instead of you getting bombarded with hate and being shred apart in anything you posted, it was the newest exchange student that was the prime highlight of what desperation and pathetic self-esteem looked like. Comments ranged from anything like:

“Lord…this is just embarrassing for them lol”

“thanks for the tutorial on social suicide <3”

“an attempt was made…but it should’ve been with a rope.”

Much to you and the brother’s greatest dismay, the forum that was freely spouting random comments about the situation was gradually shut down under Diavolo’s leadership. He did find it the teeniest bit funny though…

──────────────────────

In naming pathetic self-esteem, a particular water dweller comes to mind: Leviathan. He was going to be a tricky one to lure (said in a hopeful manner as if the others weren’t total failures). Not particularly because he’s the third oldest, making his raw power single-handedly capable of wiping Notus away from existence. No, it was the depressing fact that he’s a recluse that seethes to himself whenever you giggle at a joke someone other than him has made.

Although, they did manage to misuse his social awkwardness to their advantage - by acting shy and nervous as they sweetly ask if they can also join the gaming session with you and him. Levi chose a multiplayer dungeon crawler, the kind where cooperation is key — and where you certainly have excelled before. Notus, however, had other plans.

Small, inconsequential mistakes didn’t bother Levi too much…you and him were good enough for the time being, but by level, these “mistakes” of theirs just spiralled uncontrollably. Taking up important loot meant for you, and even using rare healing potions on themselves at the wrong time, leaving your character on the brink of death.

“Oh no!” Notus gasped, hand to their mouth. “I didn’t mean to—uh, sorry, Levi! I guess I’m just not used to such a complicated game.” They glanced slyly at you, a smug grin creeping onto their face.

Levi frowned, his tail twitching with irritation. “It’s not that complicated,” he muttered. “You just...have to listen.” You don’t even remember when he switched into his demon form, but you can somewhat presume it was around the second the first whine gasped from their lips.

Despite their blunders, Notus managed to turn the situation into a chance for attention, constantly praising Levi in exaggerated tones. “Wow, Levi, you’re so good at this game! I mean, you basically carried us, right?” They laughed, shooting another smug glance your way. “MC must feel so lucky to have someone like you showing them the ropes.”


Levi blinked, looking between Notus and you. His face flushed, but not in the usual embarrassed way—it was frustration. “What are you even talking about?” he snapped. “MC doesn’t need me to ‘carry’ them. They’re actually good at this!”

Notus tried to backtrack, laughing nervously. “Oh, sure, sure! I didn’t mean it like that, I just—”

“Just stop.” Levi's voice was uncharacteristically firm. His eyes darted to you, softening. “MC doesn’t need someone like you pointing out their skills. They’ve already proven themselves. Unlike, uh, certain people who don’t even know how to play.”

The match ended shortly after, with Levi muttering about how “toxic noobs ruin games.” He didn’t invite Notus back for another session.

──────────────────────

Lucifer’s patience had worn thinner than a threadbare string. The complaints from his brothers about Notus's antics had escalated from minor annoyances to full-blown disruptions of their routines. Asmodeus couldn’t walk down the hallway without Notus latching on to him, Leviathan’s game nights had been interrupted by bizarre "accidental" server crashes, and even Belphegor muttered in frustration about charms slipping into his blankets to make him "dream of Notus."

Through it all, you have endured the worst of it — every petty prank, sabotage attempt, and unwelcome spell aimed at undermining your place in the Devildom. You’ve handled it with your usual grace, brushing off bruised egos and minor inconveniences with an easy smile. But this time, Notus had gone too far.

Self efficacy is quite the funny theory - the more you believe in yourself, the more likely you are to succeed. The more successes you have, the better your confidence. So how come even without that, Notus seemed to be as determined as ever to ruin your mood?

The prank seemed harmless at first—a minor tripwire spell meant to tangle your legs and leave you stumbling in embarrassment. But Notus, in their reckless desperation to make you look bad, underestimated the strength of the curse. When the trap activated, you didn’t just trip - you were violently flung forward, crashing into a jagged edge of a chair (there’s too many of them in the House of Lamentation as you just got to personally establish).

The sound of breaking wood reverberated through the house. You hit the floor hard, crimson spilling from a deep gash on your arm where wood had pierced skin. Placing your fingertips on the gush of blood pooling around the scratches, your hands webbed with red iron.

Lucifer arrived almost immediately, his presence a storm brewing in the hall. His brothers, frozen in stunned silence, stood back as he knelt to examine you. His gloved hands trembled faintly as he carefully removed the shards and inspected the various wounds that differentiated in size and depth.

Notus tried to deflect, stammering about how it was just a joke gone wrong, their confidence cracking under Lucifer’s piercing glare. “I-I didn’t mean for it to—MC is just so dramatic, they—”

“Silence.”

Lucifer’s single word was sharper than a blade, and the room fell into an oppressive silence. His wings, usually tucked away, unfurled slightly — a stark warning of the fury he struggled to contain. He rose to his full height, towering over Notus, his face a mask of cold fury.

“You’ve been a disruption from the moment you arrived, but this? This is beyond forgiveness.”

──────────────────────

Notus didn’t learn their lesson, of course. Their jealousy burned too brightly to let them stop. But this time, you’ve sincerely had had enough, and with Thirteen’s help, you concocted a poetic dose of karmic justice mingled with a touch of the classics.

Diavolo was long informed of the incident involving you previously, and further filled in on all the previous attempts of ruining both your reputation and relationship with your family. A little meeting in the RAD council room was in due order - one which all of the affected were invited for a silly show.

Lucifer stood impatiently next to a stone-faced Diavolo. You would find it slightly threatening if you didn’t know what was going to happen in just a few moments. Thirteen sat next to you, swinging back and forth on a chair as she grinned at you with every wavering gaze at one another.

And like moth to a flame, blazing with both frustration and smugness, Notus strolled on in. Well, I say stroll - I mean struggle with opening the door before they accidentally put too much pressure on the handle, leading to the doors gushing open with a far swing, and the buckets utop the bar to drop down like catharsis.

A greedy sorcerer from sorcerer’s society that just so happened to notice you when you came in one day with a few of the brother’s and Solomon the Wise himself - Notus couldn’t bare the idea that a little thing like you could swoop in and charm them so easily.

Now covered in a disgusting, webbed display of pig’s blood and some sticky consistency of water mixed with honey, Notus simply stands there, allowing defeat to settle in while the crescendo of giggles cuts deep into their pride.

“Alright alright, I’ve got enough of a laugh out of this,” you clap your hands, whispering an incantation that forces a gush of water to rain down upon them, washing away the weird concoction that coated their skin.

“Aw what, that’s no fun lol.” Leviathan pouts in the background.

“Whaaat!! What a bore…” Mammon grumbled to himself, looking away from the sopping wet dog once his eyes accidentally caught theirs.

“MC…” Notus sniffled pitifully, looking up at you through tear-stained lashes.

“Yes yes, I know,” you sigh, hands on your hips as you try your best to articulate your reasoning for this baseless morality. “This isn’t forgiveness or anything, the stuff you’ve done warrants actual apologies but hey, I’ve had a few of the demons in here attempt to kill me before,” Belphegor coincidentally looks away, “a few jabs at my reputation with failing results was honestly a little funny.”

Notus’ eyes glimmer with shiny stars and fat blobs of tears as they murmured a very simple:

“Fmnf…I love you.”

“…”

“Huh?”

[madwomansapologist]

SINGLE FOR A HOT MINUTE

cw: fluff, crack, gn!mc

an: my first smau ever, and also the first thing i ever did for the obey me brothers.

© all rights reserved to MADWOMANSAPOLOGIST

[bloomries]

yeah so my husband— my husband?!

includes : lucifer, mammon, leviathan, satan, asmodeus, beelzebub, and belphegor.

summary : calling him your "husband" (even though you two aren't married yet) to see his reaction.

warnings : gn! reader. mention of marriage. suggestive (in asmodeus'). the word 'husband' will begin to look strange bc it's used so much, apologies.

LUCIFER

You just meant for it to be a harmless little prank, something to tease Lucifer with later when you two were alone, perhaps gauge his reaction to the idea, but after you said 'yeah, so my husband...' Diavolo's eyes grew as wide as the moon and you instantly regretted your prank idea.

Diavolo clasped a hand on Lucifer's shoulder, beaming. "You finally asked!" This statement went over your head as you tried to quickly take back your words, Lucifer's blanched face making it clear he'll definitely be scolding you later. "But it seems I missed the wedding? Oh well, I'll just host you another wedding so I can see it for myself!"

"Ah, L- Lord Diavolo..." Lucifer sends you a glare as you smile sheepishly. "We aren't- I haven't-"

"How do you both feel about a chocolate fountain?" Diavolo is already off in his own little world, imagining how he'll plan out your wedding. Lucifer decides he'll inform Barbatos of the prank, and have Barbatos deal with it- Lucifer already has his hands full with you. He pulls you aside as Diavolo talks to himself.

"Do you see what you've done?"

"Sorry..." You fake pout, batting your lashes up at him. "My darling husband will surely fix it though, right?" Oh, how can he stay mad when he truly likes the title so much. Perhaps this will make asking you to marry him easier? You surely seem to enjoy the title just as much.

MAMMON

Mammon is always trying to listen in on your phone calls, he's nosy and likes to know all the gossip. Today in particular though, he's trying extra hard to hear, clinging to you and making you unable to do other tasks whilst on your call.

Deciding to tease him a little, in hopes of getting him off of you, you sigh dramatically into the receiver. "I'm sorry, my husband needs my attention, one second."

And when you look down at him, his eyes are wide and shiny, a blush quickly forming on his cheeks. Him? Were you talking about him? He's your husband? A giant grin takes over his features and it seems your little prank has the opposite effect you wanted, as he takes the phone from you.

"Yeah, sorry, their husband- that's me!- needs 'em!" He boasts proudly before hanging up the call and clutching on to you tighter, burying his face into your side, his grin not changing in the slightest.

You sigh, running your fingers through his hair. "Rude, I was trying to talk to someone, you know." Mammon shrugs, not a care in the world.

"'m your husband, I take priority."

"You know you're not officially my husband yet, right?" Shit, you're right. Well, that'll change soon, don't you worry one bit! Mammon knows how to take a hint, and there'll be a ring on that finger soon enough!

LEVIATHAN

You and Levi were playing an online game, chat on full blast, when you decide to tease him- because it's just so fun to see his flustered expression, and you have an inkling that this'll give him some motivation for the game. "Ah, hubby, can you help me with these guys!"

"H- Hubby!?" Leviathan's neck nearly breaks from how quickly he snaps to look over at you, you seem unphased though by the phrase- as if it came so naturally. His heart skips a beat, his grip on the controller tightening. "W- Where are you, I'll come help!"

His gaming friends are all blowing up the chat box, some getting on voice chat just to ask what that meant- 'was Levi actually married?,' 'He was a husband?,' 'Since when!?,' 'Congratulations!,' etc.

Levi would have gotten more flustered, had he been paying any attention to said friends, but he's much more focused on proving he'd make an excellent spouse by rushing to where you were in the map and one-shotting all the enemies that surrounded you.

The battle is quickly won thanks to Levi, who puffs out his chest with pride. You lean over from your gaming station adjacent of his, and press a kiss to his cheek. "Thank you, hubby~" His cheeks grow a rosy pink, and he pulls his headphones off to give you a serious look.

"Let's get married."

SATAN

"Oh husband~" You call, "Can you help me get this book? I can't reach!" Satan peaks his head from around the corner to give you a questioning look. Who were you calling husband? He watches you struggle, leaning his frame against the door with his arms crossed over his chest.

"I don't remember proposing." Satan watches as you deflates from his lack of reaction to your prank. He sighs, walking over to you and helping you reach the book, tapping it on your head lightly before handing it over to you.

"You're no fun, you know that?"

Satan has a feeling this was definitely set up by one of his brothers, and he'll definitely be getting his revenge on them for making you do this (and for making his heart hammer against his ribcage uncontrollably). Still, he hates to see you upset in the least, so he lifts your chin with his finger and thumb and sends you that smile that sends shivers down your spine.

"Don't be upset, you'll get to call me husband soon, okay?"

And he truly did mean that, he already had a ring, which sat heavy in his pocket. He just wanted to make sure you had the most perfect proposal, something straight out of a romance novel- because that's what you deserve. Soon, soon you'll be able to lovingly call him 'husband' whenever you wish.

ASMODEUS

Asmo is live-streaming again, doing a little grwm-type video, with you off to the side/in the background. As he begins to do his skin care, he asks for you to take over and chat for a little while for him, so you peak your head into view and wave at his viewers.

"Hello everyone!" You smile, glancing back at Asmo who's behind you in the bathroom, doing his skincare. "My lovely husband is doing his skincare right now, it usually takes him about ten to fifteen minutes to complete it." You say, however you can see his head pop-up from the sink and he whips around to look at you.

"Husband?" He calls, and when you nod, confirming your words, he grins. "Oh my, is this a proposal?" He asks with a teasing lilt, and you joking go along with his words, nodding before reenacting the famous getting-down-on-one-knee. You open your hands as if you had a ring box, presenting it to him. He holds his hand out to you, "I do~" You pretend to slip a ring on to his finger and he admires the imaginary ring before leaning down to kiss you.

"Now," He pulls away, wiggling his brows. "Shall we get started on the honeymoon part?"

"Asmo, that's typically after the weddi-" Asmo reaches for his phone, waving and saying a little 'byeeee' to his followers as he ends the livestream with a giggle, throwing you a lil' mischievous smile.

"No harm in starting earlier, right?" And despite only being halfway through his skincare, and this not being a real proposal, the honeymoon was very nice indeed- he can't wait for the real one though.

BEELZEBUB

You had seen the trend, and wondered how Beelzebub would react. So, under the guise of trying some new food and giving it a review, you set up your camera and begin filming. "Hey everyone, me and my husband are going to be rating food from the new McDevil menu~"

Beel doesn't react at all, and you send him a quick glance before trying again- perhaps he didn't hear you? "I think the Sin-Fries are a solid 7/10, what about you, husband?" But again, he doesn't react to the word at all, instead giving his own rating for the new fries.

Is he really not realizing what you're saying? You decide to try one last time. "My husbands food always looks better than mine," You whine, peaking over at him to see his reaction, only to see him offering you a bite of his burger. You sigh, giving up and deciding to just enjoy your food. You take a bite of his burger, offering him some of yours. The review ends swiftly, and you turn off the camera.

As you two clean up from eating, you notice Beelzebub quieter than usual. You're about to ask him if everything is okay, his face becoming flushed, when he speaks up.

"Soon, okay?" You blink a few times, confused by his words. He bashfully looks up at you, and that's when you realize what he's talking about- marriage, he plans on proposing to you soon. Your own cheeks now grow unbearably warm. "I promise."

Your prank definitely backfired, as now you're the one trying to calm your racing heart (although Beelzebub is definitely just as flustered). Still, you're holding him accountable to his promise- soon.

BELPHEGOR

You're not sure how this little prank managed to get turned against you, but Belphegor has made it so that you're now his personal pillow- again.

"I'm just saying, if I'm you're husband, then that means you should let me use you as a pillow whenever I want." You open your mouth to retaliate, but he beats you to it, batting his lashes up at you. "Don't you want your husband to be comfortable?"

"I..." You falter. You regret deciding to call him your 'husband~' to try and get him to help you with chores. You thought maybe it'd motivate him, or maybe you'd just get to see his cute blushing face, instead you're suffering.

"Come on now, don't be shy~" He wiggles about, trying to grab you to pull you towards him, but he doesn't really exert enough energy to be successful. "Ugh, why... do you... do this... to me- to your darling husband!"

"You're anything but darling." You say, crossing your arms over your chest. "Last time I call you 'husband' or any term of endearment, I swear..." You grumble, turning on your heels to leave, disappointed your prank didn't work.

Belphegor grins, snuggling up to his pillow as he watches you leave. "That's what you think," he mumbles to himself, yawning, "when I finally get that ring on your finger, I'll have ya calling me husband again, just you wait~" He snickers, and a cold chill runs down your spine. You glance back to see him asleep, although you feel as if he's planning something- and you weren't sticking around to find out what!

[luxthestrange]

Incorrect quotes#794 Lust<FEELS

In the house of lamentation, You Asmo, Luci and Satan are baking cookies

Mc*Smiles and holds a heart-shaped cookie*Hey! This one is shaped like a heart that's how I feel about you

Asmo*Embodiment of Lust holds his chest and cries his heart out, Happy Cries as he hugs you*WAAAAAH!?~

Satan*Holding a random lump cookie*This one is shaped like Michigan that's how I feel about you

Luci: What the fuck does that even MEAN-

[alwayzadorbs]

Demonic Tendencies 1

Hiya! Its been a bit, sorry! :>

Summary: Demons are biologically different than humans, so naturally, they'll act in ways you don't expect, or their body will do things humans aren't capable of. Life is interesting living with 7 Demons.

Rating: fluff, crack, HORROR

Characters: All of the Brothers

Warnings: These are my headcanons! They aren't true to the game, as much as I wish they were! I weirdly go in-depth for some reason!

Demons are much larger than humans, the average demon standing around 6"5-7ft tall (182~213cm). Asmodeus, who is the shortest brother, still stood at a height of 6"9. It didn't fail to intimidate you, especially Beelzebub, who was a staggering 7"4 ft tall. You have to crane your neck upwards most of the time when speaking to them.

Naturally, the house of lamentation is scaled up a bit so Demons could actually live comfortably in the home. Shelves are extra high, the counters are elevated more than you're used to, and it's hard for you to sit at bar stools due to their height. You find yourself asking for help often or climbing on the countertops to reach an item.

You strained to reach a jar on the higher shelf of a cabnient, realizing you couldn't quite reach it, you attempted to jump up and get it, but still you were too short to grab it.

"I got it, watch out," Beelzebub said, leaning over you to grab the jar. "Here you go, Mc." He handed you the item, smiling at you like a puppy dog.

(Side note: the Fan wiki states that the heights of the boys from shortest to tallest are 1. Asmo, 5"9ft 2. Belphie 5"10ft 3. Mammon 6"0 ft 4. Levi 6"0 ft 5. Satan 6"1 ft 6 Lucifer 6.3 ft 7. Beel 6"4ft. I added about 1 ft to their widely accepted fan heights.)

Along with being taller than humans, they're also much stronger than the average person. It's not outlandish to believe they could easily break you by accident, so they take an extra level of care around you. So, with that in mind, many Devildom appliances that require being sealed shut are very hard for you to open. The first time you attempted to open a jar, you swore you were going to pop a blood vessel. As soon as you handed it to Mammon to open it, he got it open right away. You felt a bit embarrassed as he handed it back to you looking like he was about to laugh.

"I can't believe ya aren't even able ta' open a jar!" He laughed

You shot him daggers with your eyes

Their eyes reflect in the dark, much like an animal's, It scared the crap out of you when you saw Lucifers eyes in the dark of the hall during a late night thrist for water. You froze momentarily, realizing what you were seeing. Peering into his deep red eyes, staring back at you, He blinked. The red shifted as he stepped towards you; his eyes glinted as they reflected the moonlight, and you felt as if he was boring a hole into your soul, piercing through your very being.

"Mc," he spoke, stepping into the moonlight, softly illuminating his face. "What are you doing up so late? You look a bit pale, you

should go to bed. Sleep is imperative for you humans." He smirked

"Oh, okay, I will," you stammered. tripping on your words as you calmed yourself down. "Goodnight, Lucifer!" you said, slightly rushing while you walked toward your bedroom.

Lucifer turned to watch you leave, confused as to why you just ran away from him.

Demons are just noisy in general. It's simple things like low growling in discontent or a hum of gratification. The language they speak is very growly and aggressive-sounding, so this translates into their everyday lives. To you, when the brothers speak, you pick up on an accent; the only way you can describe it would be as husky-sounding words, or their words blending into a bit of a growl at the end. I feel like they'd be capable of something resembling purring when happy.

You know that gut feeling you have when in danger? Or the sense of something just being wrong, the hairs that stand up on the back of your neck, the feeling of being watched. Demons don't experience this as Humans do; They simply don't need it because they are at the top of the food chain. Just like Humans' senses have dulled as they've overcome nature, it's the same case for Demons. Whenever you ventured into more dangerous areas of the devildom with the brothers, you always felt on edge. that gut feeling screaming at you to leave, paranoia scratching at your mind, you'd find yourself looking behind your shoulder or whipping around at the sound of a stick breaking. You catch yourself staring into the treeline, fixated on the idea of something looking back at you.

"Like, whats your problem, Mc?!" Mammon laughed, flashing his dopey smile at you. "What're you, Scared?! Why do ya keep lookin' behind ya and stuff? your kinda starting to make ME paranoid!"

"Oh, stop, Mammon. We all know it's YOU who's scared; you're just trying to calm yourself down." Satan sighed, sounding exasperated

"HUH?! but like, ya saw how Mc was actin', right?!" he shouted

"Mammon. Please, you just yelled right in my ear." Lucifer said, shooting Mammon a glare.

Sometimes, you forgot, you forgot that they weren't people. They're Demons, and it shows. It's easy to brush things off when you're used to them, but every now and then, you find yourself studying their anatomy, noting the differences between yourself and them. When they cracked a smile, you couldn't help but stare down at their teeth. Each of their smiles was unique, and each tooth varied in size and sharpness, but they all shared something in common: Every smile was filled with sharp, angular teeth. Lucifer's lips curled into a devilish smile, bringing attention to his dimples. His two front teeth were straight edged, his canines were lengthy, and his teeth resembled a vampire's, except he had many more sharp teeth. Whenever Lucifer smirked, you could see the tips of his canines poking out underneath his top-lip. His teeth were a shade of milky white with yellowish undertones; he did drink an awful lot of coffee after all. His teeth are the second sharpest and also hold second place for most taken care of. Mammon's smile was a bit crooked, but that didn't bother you. His smile can't hide; he always flashes that big toothy grin. His front tooth was chipped, and a gold tooth or two replaced some of his original teeth. His teeth bear a close resemblance to human teeth, canines still more pointy than the average person's. Levithan was shy, so he didn't show his teeth much when smiling, but when you saw his teeth, it was immediately clear that every tooth in his mouth was sharp, not a straight-edged tooth in sight. Like Lucifer, Levithan has dimples. Satan also has a mouth that closely resembles the average human's, and his smile is similar to Lucifer's. don't tell him that, though. His teeth are fairly sharp; he possesses two vampire-like fangs, which are on the shorter side. Asmodeus is the one that takes the best care of his teeth, along with every other aspect of personal hygiene. While they're not pearly white, his teeth are still extremely pristine. Unlike most of his brothers, his teeth are not very sharp; they would not rip and tear like the others. Belphegor doesn't take very good care of his teeth, and he often forgets, opting instead to go to bed. His teeth are on the yellowish side, his teeth are fairly long, they're quite sharp, and the only part of his teeth that are straight-edged are his two front teeth and two bottom teeth. Beelzebub has the sharpest and most pointy teeth, not having straight-edged teeth at all. His teeth are optimal for tearing and ripping up prey. it doesn't stop there, though; he has two rows of teeth. When a tooth is knocked out, it will grow back.

(Side note: The brothers' tongues also bear unique qualities, ranging from size, texture, length, and acidity of spit. Teeth ranked based on most hygienic/well groomed: 1. Asmodeus, he is PEDANTIC about his self-image; he wears whitening strips at night, brushes, and flosses after every meal. 2. Lucifer prides himself on being the best, but he simply doesn't have time to brush his teeth and floss after EVERY meal and EVERY liquid he consumes. Every night he spends extra time flossing and using mouthwash. 3. Satan takes quite good care of himself, remembering to brush twice a day and floss. 4. Mammon probably gets cavities or is in danger of having cavities. he does brush his teeth; he is a model, after all, but he's prone to forgetting and just drinks so much soda. 5. Levithan forgets a lot of. He just doesn't brush his teeth sometimes; he's holed up in his room playing video games almost always. He brushes his teeth when he's going somewhere or has a spare moment between a meal and a game. 6. Beelzebub wouldn't have much time to brush since he's basically always eating; there's no such thing as "in between meals" for him. He brushes his teeth before bed and in the morning. 7. Belphegor has the worst teeth hygiene, falling asleep before he can brush his teeth. Beel has to remind him, usually, they brush their teeth together to remember.)

[defectivevillain]

the human condition

pairings: the brothers/Reader, Diavolo/Reader, Solomon/Reader (can be interpreted as platonic or romantic)

summary: You’re sorting through paperwork with Lucifer when you accidentally slide your fingertip against the corner of a page. “Ow,” you say instinctually, more out of reflex than genuine pain. “Are you alright?” Lucifer asks, looking up from his papers for the first time since you started this task. “Oh, yeah,” you wave his concern off. “Just got a paper cut.” “A paper cut,” Lucifer repeats with bemusement and skepticism. “You got hurt by a piece of paper," he says incredulously.

The demon brothers learn a valuable lesson as they grow to include you in their lives: humans are very strange.

word count: 3.3k | ao3 version

warnings: mentions of sickness, medical care, injury.

I know demons are virtually the same as humans canonically, but I’ve always wanted to explore the brothers’ reactions to human things MC does, whether it’s a sneeze or a bruise or getting sick… And, well, here we are.

This won’t be canon compliant. This is set to take place sometime after Episode 15 and all seven brothers are included. The reader’s race and gender are ambiguous; no pronouns or physical descriptors are used**. There’s one bit where they’re stated to wear glasses & another where they had braces and currently wear retainers. But I feel like that’s a pretty easy thing to imagine, so… yeah!

**The reader is referred to with it/its pronouns once in Belphegor's snippet—skip reading it if it bothers you. i use these pronouns so i wrote that mostly for me 🤘

“Darling, what is that ghastly thing?” Asmodeus asks, breaking you out of your thoughts. 

“What thing?” you frown. The two of you are sitting in his bedroom, sprawled across his bed as you talk about stupid things. Asmodeus had been ranting about something when his eyes locked on something near you with startling focus. 

“This!” he says, pointing at your forearm. 

You follow his gaze, finding a spot of slightly discolored skin halfway down your arm. “Oh,” you say, “It’s just a bruise.” 

“A bruise?” Asmodeus repeats, his nose scrunched in confusion. 

“You know, a bruise,” you repeat. There’s nothing close to comprehension on his face. “...A contusion or whatever?” …Still nothing.

“I’ve never heard of such a thing,” the demon frowns. “And wow, is it unsightly.” Asmodeus remarks, disgust passing over his face before intrigue takes over it. He leans over you, before proceeding to poke at your skin curiously.  

“Ow, Asmo—” you hiss, batting his hand away. You don’t put much strength behind the gesture, but Asmodeus goes along with it anyway and removes his hand.  

“It hurts?” he then blinks owlishly. 

“Yes,” you say, letting your arm fall back to your side.  

Asmodeus shakes his head in disbelief. “Humans are so weird.” 

It’s late at night and you need to refill your glass of water. You’re tiredly walking out to the kitchen when a sudden noise breaks through the silence. 

“Hey.”

You inhale sharply, fear coursing through you until you recognize the familiar voice. “Holy shit, Beel,” you murmur, placing your hand on your chest momentarily and squinting through the darkness. You can only see the general outline of his form. “You scared me.”

“Sorry,” Beelzebub says. You think he must be frowning now. Again, it’s difficult to tell. “I thought you saw me.”

“Um…” you squint again. “No.” 

“Oops,” he says. You hear a light shuffling sound. “Can you see me now?” he asks. 

You blink again. “Sort of.”

Suddenly he’s standing right in front of you. You can’t suppress a flinch this time, instinctually leaning backwards. 

“Beel, stop that—!” you exclaim, nearly stumbling over yourself. 

He sets you straight with a hand on your shoulder, a frown rising on his face. “You can’t see in the dark, then?” Beelzebub hums.

“No,” you sigh. It’s as if he didn’t believe you—like he had to test it for himself to make sure. 

“Hmph,” Beelzebub frowns again. Or, at least, it sounds like he’s frowning. “That’s inconvenient.”

“I guess,” you concede. 

“What’s wrong with your skin?” Belphegor asks you one morning, when the two of you are relaxing in his room. 

“Hm?” you blink, momentarily distracted from looking down at your D.D.D.

“Your skin,” he restates. “Look,” he demands, pointing down at your forearm. You follow the demon’s gaze, only to find goosebumps scattered across your skin. 

“Oh, those are just goosebumps,” you answer casually. 

“Goose… bumps,” Belphegor repeats, his nose scrunched in evident revulsion. 

“Yeah,” you nod. “I’m not sure why they’re called that, but they show up on your skin if you get too cold.”

“Well, stop being cold,” Belphegor orders, as if you’re inconveniencing him. He probably thinks you are, although it’s entirely out of your control. You hardly have a chance to react before you’re promptly pelted in the face with a sweatshirt. “Here.” 

“Oof,” you say, peeling it off the crown of your head and putting it on. “Thanks, Belphie.”

“Shut up,” he murmurs. There’s a hint of pink rising on the back of his neck, as if he’s embarrassed. “Stupid human. Can’t even keep itself warm.” He huffs. You valiantly ignore the remark. 

“Why are there teeth in the bathroom?” Levi asks as he enters the room. And wow, what a way to make an entrance. Satan and you look over at Levi from where you’d been reading. 

“What?” Satan blinks questioningly, clearly just as confused as you are.

“Teeth,” Levi repeats himself, “in the bathroom.” 

How he expects the same exact remark to make more sense, you have no idea. It takes you a few moments to connect the dots, but you do eventually. “Oh!” you exclaim. “Those are just my retainers.”

“Your retainers,” Satan repeats. There’s a hint of sarcasm in his voice. “And what do they retain, exactly?” he asks sardonically. You scoff. 

“My teeth,” you respond. “Obviously,” you add, if only to combat his sarcasm. 

“So… what do you do with them?” Levi asks curiously, tilting his head as he looks at you. 

“I wear them every night when I sleep,” you explain. “They’re supposed to prevent my teeth from shifting.”

“Your teeth shift?” Satan exclaims incredulously. “You mean they can move?” 

“Um— yes,” you respond. “Human teeth always move, even after a person has braces.”

“What are braces?” Levi demands. 

“They’re metal brackets that an orthodontist puts on your teeth when they’re crooked. They guide the teeth into a more neat shape.” 

“I’m convinced you just made that up,” Satan says helpfully. 

You roll your eyes. “I had braces. But since my teeth can still move, I have to wear the retainers.”

“For how long?” Levi blinks. 

“The rest of my life.”

Satan whistles. “That sucks.”

You shrug amicably. 

“And I thought normies were weird,” Levi huffs. “But humans are even weirder.”

“Hey, wait: how’d you even see my retainers in the first place?” you realize aloud. “I always keep them in a case… in a drawer.” You wouldn’t just leave them on the counter—that would be pretty unsanitary. 

As if caught in a lie, Levi freezes and quickly bolts away. “Gotta go shower, bye—!” he says, slamming the bathroom door shut with more force than necessary. 

You stare after him in disbelief, an incredulous laugh bubbling up from your throat. 

“He was just curious,” Satan explains with a shrug. “Not that I blame him. Do your teeth truly keep growing?”

“Not growing, necessarily,” you contemplate. “Babies are born with baby teeth. Then, as you get older, you lose your baby teeth as your adult teeth grow in.”

“That’s similar to demons,” Satan confirms. 

“Our teeth eventually stop growing, but they can shift and move still,” you clarify. 

Satan shakes his head in annoyed disbelief. “Humans are truly an anomaly.”

You’re sorting through paperwork with Lucifer when you accidentally slide your fingertip against the corner of a page. “Ow,” you say instinctually, more out of reflex than genuine pain. 

“Are you alright?” Lucifer asks, looking up from his papers for the first time since you started this task.

“Oh, yeah,” you wave his concern off. “Just got a paper cut.” You squint down at your finger and grit your teeth in annoyance. You’re so concentrated that you don’t know Lucifer’s pensive silence or furrowed brows. 

“A….. paper cut,” he restates, a mix of bemusement and concern in his voice. 

“You don’t get those?” you ask. 

“You got hurt by a piece of paper,” Lucifer says incredulously. Suddenly he’s getting to his feet and striding over to you, taking your hand in his and investigating your fingertip. “Hm. You weren’t joking. How strange.”

He continues to study your skin with a frightening intensity. Your hand is almost shaking in his grip, as you attempt to fight off your restlessness at his proximity. Eventually Lucifer sighs and lets his grip fall away. “Does it hurt?”

“Yeah,” you admit. “Paper cuts are just a minor inconvenience… But for whatever reason, they can really hurt sometimes. Feels like your skin is splitting apart.” They really shouldn’t hurt, but they do. One time, you had one that spanned your entire fingertip. This one doesn’t look nearly as bad, fortunately. But it still burns. 

“You’re rather breakable,” the Avatar of Pride notes. 

“It’s just a paper cut,” you feel the need to say defensively.

“Of course,” Lucifer responds, an indulgent and amused smile on his face. There’s a knowing smirk on his face and you roll your eyes, abandoning the argument. 

Solomon and you often get stuck accompanying one another to the human realm whenever you need anything. The demon realm is great, but it doesn’t have everything humans need. Besides, sometimes it’s nice to breathe in some fresh air or be among other humans. 

Today’s visit has a purpose, though. After a rather unfortunate incident involving Mammon, you, and a chandelier, you find yourself with broken glasses. (Thanks, Mammon.) It’s been roughly a year since you’ve had an eye exam, so it’s about time for another appointment anyways. Unfortunately, the Devildom doesn’t have eye doctors (and you still remember the perplexed look on Levi’s face when you casually asked him one day). That’s how you find yourself in your ophthalmologist’s office in the human realm. Solomon dropped you off with the promise that he’d return the moment you texted, leaving you to slowly waste away in the waiting room. 

Fortunately, your name is finally called and you’re able to undergo all of the various examinations. You emerge an hour later with dilated pupils, an updated prescription, and reassurance from the doctor that nothing is amiss. You manage to text Solomon—through slightly blurred vision—and he arrives within five minutes. 

You can only hope to slip into the manor unnoticed. But from the very moment you slip through the front doors, Mammon is bounding up to you like an overexcited puppy. He seems moments away from looping an arm around you and dragging you off into some misguided adventure when he locks eyes with you and freezes. 

“Whoa, what the hell—?” Mammon exclaims, staring at you intently. “Oi, human, don’t tell me ya got possessed—!” His hands clamp on your shoulders and he starts shaking you roughly. 

“Mammon, stop it,” you object, grabbing onto his shoulders and attempting to prevent him from shaking you any harder. He calms down a little, but he still looks confused. “I’m not possessed. I just had an appointment with an eye doctor.”

“Well, how’d they screw up so bad then, huh?” he spits. In another situation, his concern would be touching; but now, it’s mostly just amusing. “Ya look like a shark!”

“It’s just one of the tests,” you explain. “They had to dilate my pupils.” 

“Humans are crazy,” Mammon asserts. He’s studying you from far too close—occasionally changing his angle as if it will somehow give him new insight. “You look so freaky.”

“Thanks, Mammon,” you sigh. 

“Does it hurt?” he asks. “I bet it does; yer such a baby.” The insult seems to be a cover-up for his concern. 

“It doesn’t really hurt,” you reassure him. “It just feels a little strange. The drops really just affect your vision. I can’t focus on things in front of me, and it sort of looks like I’m seeing double.”

“Well, there’s nothing for it but resting your eyes,” Mammon sighs theatrically, looping an arm around your shoulders. “Let’s watch the next episode of Destroyman. ”

“How is that supposed to help my eyes?” you ask skeptically. 

“Hey, I’ve been waiting for ya all day!” Mammon exclaims. “We’re watching the next episode, even if it looks all blurry to you.” The demon is soon yanking you along before you can object. 

“There’s the culprit,” Belphegor remarks, looking up at you as you enter the dining room for breakfast. The brothers are staring at you intently. 

“Good morning to you too,” you huff, shoving your hands in the pockets of your uniform and taking the empty seat at the table. It’s a bit unusual to see all seven brothers at the table like this, especially so early in the morning. “What’d I do?” you blink cluelessly. 

“You don’t remember?” Beel pipes up, blinking at you curiously. He seems to be mid-bite, with some food hanging out of his mouth. Lucifer chides him for table manners and Beel huffs, promptly demolishing the rest of his food. 

“You were roaming the halls in the middle of the night like a ghost!” Mammon explains before anyone else can. He sounds particularly energetic this morning. “It was freaky.”

Roaming the halls at night? You don’t remember doing that, which can only mean one thing. “Oh, I was probably just sleepwalking,” you realize aloud. 

“Wonders truly never cease,” Lucifer says dryly. “Just how many eccentricities do humans possess?” he muses. 

You sigh, remembering all of the strange interactions you’ve had over the past few weeks. “I’m not choosing to do any of this, you know,” you frown. “I can’t control it.” It’s not like you wanted to get a paper cut, or a bruise, or goosebumps. These are just facts of life. 

“We know, dear,” Asmo reassures you. 

“It’s okay,” Levi says, barely sparing you a glance as he stares down at his plate. “None of these human behaviors are super annoying.” That’s very meaningful coming from Levi of all demons. 

“They’re just weird,” Satan supplies helpfully. You roll your eyes at him. 

“It seems my brothers were just… worried,” Lucifer explains. 

“Hey, you were worried too!” Mammon objects. “You were the one to—” Whatever the Avatar of Greed means to say next promptly fades into obscurity, as Lucifer sends his younger brother a murderous glare to silence him. 

“Okay,” you eventually remark, uncomfortable with the sudden tension settling in the room. “Well, sorry to disturb you guys, I guess. Sleepwalking is normal for humans, though.” 

“I’m starting to think nothing about humans is normal,” Satan mutters under his breath. Lucifer nods in agreement. You just roll your eyes and pretend not to hear the remark, serving yourself some food and beginning to eat breakfast. Despite the fanfare, it’s nice to know the brothers care about you—even if they don’t show it in very orthodox ways. 

“Oh,” a familiar voice says one afternoon. You blink blearily, your dizzy vision momentarily clarifying to reveal Diavolo standing over you. You’re crumpled on the floor, your cheek pressed to the cold hardwood as sweat rolls down the nape of your neck. “I must say, when I heard of your absence, I assumed you ditched classes for the day.”

It’s difficult for you to process what he’s saying; his voice sounds warped. The headmaster just hums. “Are you… alright?” he asks. You can barely manage a weak nod. Diavolo sighs. “Forgive me for the foolish question. You’re clearly not alright. Here, let’s get you up…” 

You hardly have the chance to object before the demon is lifting you into his arms as if you weigh nothing at all. He sets you on your bed with deceptive gentleness, before staring at you and frowning. 

“I don’t suppose you know what’s happening to you,” Diavolo says. 

“I think I’m sick,” you manage to respond. Your voice sounds a little raspy and your airways feel a bit tight. You clear your throat, wincing at the dryness the gesture provokes. You must have a fever, because your body temperature keeps oscillating between frigid cold and searing warmth. Before you can think better of it, you blink dazedly and reach out to grab Diavolo’s hand. “Tell me if I feel warm.”

He’s clearly a bit confused, but he allows you to guide his hand to your temple. 

“You’re hot,” he observes after a moment.

“Thanks,” you huff deliriously.  

“Your temperature,” he clarifies with a knowing smile, shaking his head. “What does this mean?” Diavolo frowns. 

“I have a fever,” you answer. “When a human’s body temperature is too high, it causes sickness.”

“What can be done about it?” he continues. 

“Depends,” you reply. “Sometimes it breaks on its own; sometimes you need antibiotics.” 

“Antibiotics,” Diavolo repeats, the concept clearly foreign to him. “I can’t say I’m familiar. But it’s clear that you should rest. I’ll watch over you.” Whatever else he says is lost on you, as you close your eyes and surrender to the persistent fatigue burning your eyelids. 

You wake several hours later to a room devoid of Diavolo. You’re not exactly surprised that he had to leave—he’s the ruler of the Devildom, after all. He surely has far more important things to do than look after you. You blink away traces of sleep as you look around the room, your vision clarifying to reveal Solomon sitting in the armchair in the corner of the room. You blink at him silently. 

“Oh, you’re awake,” Solomon says. “How are you feeling?”

“…Fine,” you admit, touching your temple experimentally. Your headache has subsided a little, but your skin still feels a bit warm. At your movement, Solomon pushes himself to his feet and feels your forehead. 

“Your temperature’s coming down, finally,” he hums. 

“What are you doing here?” you finally manage to ask. 

“Diavolo summoned me,” Solomon explains. “Supposedly, he attempted to enlist the help of the brothers, but they proved to be rather useless. They are… woefully uninformed when it comes to humans, after all.”

That’s true. “Thanks,” you remember to say. He didn’t have to come, after all. Just because he’s the only other human, doesn’t mean he’s relegated to nursing you back to health. 

“No problem,” Solomon nods sincerely. He doesn’t seem too bothered by the whole arrangement. “It’s nice not to be the only human. Although, I expect around the clock service and care the next time I fall ill.”

You smile tiredly. “Of course,” you agree. It’s a frighteningly easy promise to make. 

After your sickness, you notice that the brothers begin to ease up on you a bit. Mammon’s no longer texting you in the middle of the night, demanding that you entertain him; Lucifer doesn’t mind if you occasionally take a day to complete your work remotely at the mansion; Asmo’s physical affection is gentler than normal; Levi doesn’t tease you about being a normie as much; Beelzebub doesn’t ever touch your plate or food; hell, even Belphegor is behaving himself—no longer interfering with your naps or sleep. 

One afternoon, Lucifer approaches you in the living room. He greets you before settling on the couch next to you, his posture rigid and proper. “You may have noticed that my brothers…” Lucifer starts, before pausing and shaking his head, “...that we have been acting a bit different than normal.” You nod. 

“In the past few weeks—especially in light of your bout of sickness—we realized that we’ve been neglecting you and your health. A demon’s stamina is much stronger than a human’s—we need less sleep; food is more of a luxury than a necessity; our bodies are more resistant to injury… You understand.”

“What I mean to say is…” Lucifer trails off again, an uncharacteristic sign of hesitation from him. He takes a slow breath. “I apologize for the oversight.”

“It’s okay,” you reassure him. 

“It is not,” Lucifer states firmly. “We have neglected to consider just how difficult this transition must be for you. We—I—didn’t think to ensure your health and safety were priorities.”

“But no more. I’ve spoken to Diavolo and Solomon at length, in addition to doing some elective research, to ensure we are not so unprepared in the future. And, should your accommodations be unsuitable—should anything here be unsuitable—I want you to inform me at once.”

That… sounds a lot more serious than what you were expecting. You blink. “That’s— That’s really not necessary,” you try to say. 

“It wasn’t a request,” Lucifer interjects smoothly. It’s a firm but well-meaning statement. “Do you understand?”

You swallow. “Yes.”

“Good.” There’s a hint of a smile on his lips now. “Truthfully, my brothers were very worried for you.” Lucifer pauses for a moment. “I was very worried for you,” he admits.

You’re sure you look surprised now. Lucifer only laughs, before getting to his feet and placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. You can almost convince yourself that the look in his eyes is unbearably fond. But he’s soon withdrawing, leaving you to wonder if you imagined the entire interaction.

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[rae-writes]

OnlyFantoms???

om brothers x reader

wc : 2.k

warnings : nsfw, gn!reader with skirt wearing (mammon, satan), panties/lingere wearing (satan, asmo), online sharing

synopsis : lets see what the latest trending porn videos are

dateables/sides ver. || being asked about it in a livestream

Your legs are spread open for the camera, hooked over your boyfriend’s with no chance of closing them, while his hand is shoved down the front of your bottoms. The other roams your body— sliding up your shirt and wrapping around your throat. Your arms are clearly straining themselves as they hold your body up, all so you could rock your hips against Lucifer’s fingers; though the view is covered by your clothes, the slick sounds are all too clear, giving away how aroused you really were. When your arms finally give out and you fall back against his chest, there’s a shift in the air that you can practically feel as his bicep flexes under the fabric of his shirt, free arm yanking you up higher on his lap so he can finger you harder. Over the sound of your moans and cries for him to ‘please let me cum, been s’good for you, please please please’, you can hear Lucifer’s signature low chuckle and the faint sound of his shaky breathing before he’s giving you permission, outright laughing when you squeal and jerk in his grasp. His hand slips from your bottoms, and though his face isn’t in frame, it’s clear he’s licking your cum off his fingers right before the video cuts off. 

Good grades get rewarded | 0:45 seconds | 108.k views | 100.k likes | 97.k comments 

Lucifer?!

Hand cam hand cam hand cam 

Dude, isn’t Mc a straight A student? THIS IS WHAT THEY GET FOR EVERY A??

I’d good grades too if I had the morning star behind me like this 

^I’d get good grades if I could have Mc in my lap like this tf 

†

Panting and moaning fill the dim atmosphere, mixing in with the faint sound of slapping skin as large hands push and pull at your hips. The camera is positioned only to catch your lower bodies, but through the dark you can still catch the bobbing of Mammon’s adams apple and the curve of your mouth as you place kisses along his jaw. His grip on your hips makes your skirt ride up higher and higher, showing more and more slivers of skin until your entire ass is on display. There’s a shine- the mix of your cum and his- everytime he pulls you up, only to disappear with a filthy ‘shlick’ as he yanks you back down onto his cock. There’s a natural haze to the lens and the windows are entirely fogged up— sweat is beading and rolling down his exposed chest, showing you’ve been at this much longer before the recording ever started. By now, the second born has started emitting whiny growls as he switches to grinding you and the audio picks up a nearly inaudible choked out version of your name before his arms are circling around you and he’s lifting you up slightly with his last thrust. It’s quiet as you pet his hair while he’s busy massaging your waist- and then you're reaching over to grab the camera with a giggle, angling it to see the mess you’ve both made over your clothes. There’s a hushed ‘Lucifer’s gonna kill us-!’ before the screen goes black. 

Greed is the name of the game | 2:45 minutes | 95.k views | 91.k likes | 86.k comments 

A Y O???

PLS mammon sounded so hot 

I don’t know who I’m jealous of or who I’d rather be rn 

I wanna be the car 

Come get y’all’s dinner, we’re eating good toDAY

†

The pretty lighting of the fish tank washes over you, highlighting the red scratch lines trailing down Levi’s abdomen to where you’re placing kisses along his hips and pelvis. The sounds are a bit exaggerated- both to make the demon squirm in embarrassment- and because you’ve got the hood of his jacket thrown up to cover your face. Levi’s got his arms pressed close to his chest, hands gripping the controller so hard the plastic creaks every so often; you can hear the shooting from his game and the frantic mashing of buttons. When you finally take his cock in your mouth, seen by your head bobbing at a fast pace, a loud moan rips from his throat and his hips begin thrusting against your ministrations. The room is filled with whines and whimpers, begs to ‘please go faster’, and your amused laughing. There’s a distinct pop when you pull off his cock and replace your mouth with your hand, all so you could lean up and slam your lips against his. Levi throws the controller to the side, hands scrambling to grab the back of your head and the wrist of the hand that’s jerking him off. He’s practically brainless now as he cries and begs for you to make him cum, switching between that and making those lewd, slick, noises whenever your tongue plays with his. When you command him to cum, he shrieks at the intensity, pulling you closer and closer until you're on top of him and his cum is streaking your clothes. There’s a meek ‘I’m sorry’ and the sound of your giggling before your hands go to the waistband of your pants and the video cuts off. 

Motivation for true gamers | 1:30 minutes | 87.k views | 85.k likes | 74.k comments

Making these sounds my alarm as we speak

WHEN WILL IT BE MY TURN

Suddenly I’ve become a master gamer 

Never picked up a controller in my life but I’m otw to buy one rn 

Reverse the roles please I beg!! 

†

There’s a fairly large spellbook in your hands as you sit on your boyfriend’s lap at one of the library tables; he has his head buried in the crook of your neck, fingers digging at your hips as he subtly rocks you back and forth over his cock. The side profile shows only your skirt bunched up to your upper thighs and lace green panties tugged down to your knees— everything is completely covered, even when Satan gets bold and begins bouncing you up and down. No sounds are made except for a faint creaking of the chair and the spellbook thudding against the table when your back arches. All movements halt when someone’s shadow passes by, but as soon as they’re gone, your arms reach back to wrap around Satan’s neck, fingers burying in his blonde locks and tugging desperately. You can’t help the way you begin fucking Satan without his guidance or the way short whimpers begin falling from your lips. He lets out a low hiss, wrapping a hand around your mouth harshly to keep things quiet, all while he pushes you forward to bend over the table as he stands. He pounds at you roughly, using the fabric of your skirt to keep your skin from slapping together. The frantic pace doesn’t stop until he’s got you shaking from your orgasm and he’s following along with a muffled growl. Only then does he let go of your mouth and kiss at where his fingers dug in a little too roughly, massaging over your hips as he whispers about a ‘another study session well done’ before the video cuts. 

Shh— quiet in the library | 5:00 minutes | 91.k views | 87.k likes | 82.k comments

regretting never getting into reading after this 

what days do you two go to the library, asking for a friend 

my face was pressed up against the screen the entire video 

can I be the bookmark

putting in my librarian application asap

†

It was a sight that would be found in the best of porn magazines: your body on display with a pretty- expensive- champagne lingerie set that matched the fifth born’s hair color to a tee, while Asmo himself was completely bare, smiling face all dolled up and in frame. What made it even more delicious was his manicured fingers wrapped around his own cock, sliding along the slick area as he gave breathy moans and laughs, all while resting his head on your thigh to watch you pleasure yourself as well. Each bite and lick he delivered to your skin was slow and drawn out, matching the pace each of you were going— but one sharp tug to Azzy’s locks made his back arch with a sharp cry, eyes flashing pink. It’s a blur as he yanks you on top of him, lace-covered ass now on full display for the camera as it bounces along with his movements. The noises are so beautifully vile as you both grind against one another, moans reflecting back that get louder and louder the harder he pulls you down. A few whiny ‘I’m gonna cum!’ exclamations escape him before he forces his cock in you at the last second and practically screams with how intense it made everything feel. There’s thirty seconds of sweet talk and giggling before he’s lifting you up bridal style and you both wag your fingers at the camera before the video ends. 

Dress up, dress down | 8:15 minutes | 123.k views | 117.k likes | 103.k comments 

I can die happy now 

FOR FREE?!?! 

I can’t decide who sounds better or looks better 

^the answer is both 

thank you for the fIVE COURSE FUCKING M E A L 

†

The sound of running water does nothing to hide the sharp sounds of slapping skin or the rumbly growls Beel is letting out. His wings are sparkling under the shower spray, fluttering rapidly as he fucks into you; his muscles flex with each movement, practically showing off to the camera since he has his backside facing it. Your legs, lifted up to his shoulders with your knees to your ears, and your hands gripping tightly at his horns are the only part of you that can be seen. Your voice echoes, though, loud and whiny moans that hitch each time he delivers a harsher thrust. You can see his hands wandering, unable to pick a place to grip or knead underneath his fingertips, just like his head keeps tilting or ducking down to scatter kisses and bites and hickeys over your skin. When his pace finally falters, it’s due to his stuttering hips and an unrestrained moan tears from his throat, followed by ‘c-cumming! G’na cum inside, fuck, fuck—!’ You can see his knees buckle a bit and your hands white-knuckling his horns. He gives a few frantic thrusts before he crushes your body against him and stills, letting the water cascade down your bodies with content sighs. The sound of a door opening echoes, followed by laughter from multiple people, before you’re whispering ‘now how are you gonna sneak me out?’ and the video cuts black. 

A filthy cleaning | 6:26 minutes | 89.k views | 78.k likes | 72.k comments 

Can we talk about his sheer strength?? The muscles?? The effortless pace??

THAT ASS THO 

ain’t never seen a more lucky human 

Is that…the Fangol’s locker room showers-

I— please??

†

For a moment, there’s only giggling and the rustling of blankets to be heard as you crawl onto Belphie’s lap— whose face is completely hidden by the plush pillows surrounding him. There’s a faint huff from the demon as you begin grinding on his lap, which quickly devolves into groans the harder you press against his bulge. It’s not long before he’s full on moaning, though not yet awake, and you’re lifting yourself up to take his cock out. His oversized shirt you’re wearing hides you well- only showing enough skin to tell you weren’t wearing underwear- and shields the way you fist his cock before lining it at your entrance. Belphie stirs then, voice coming out hoarse as he calls your name groggily. You drop down, not bothering to go slow, and the seventh born lets out a high pitched whine, hips raising in surprise before he’s flush against the bed again, letting you fuck him till your hearts content. You do exactly that, with your hands pressed to his chest for support, and his own clawing desperately at your thighs. His voice remains in a higher pitch, moaning and whining and whimpering, getting louder and louder until you let out a sharp demand for him to cum, and then he’s cumming with a broken gasp— all Belphie can do is give choked cries when you keep rocking your hips and the video ends after hearing your ‘nu-uh, baby, not done yet. Still want more.’ 

Wake up call | 7:30 minutes | 84.k views |  80.k likes | 75.k comments 

holy fuck I wanna be belphie so bad 

why don’t I get woken up this way wtf

This! Is! How! You! Do! It! People! 

Can— can we just. Talk about that WHINE THOUGH?! 

The grip on their thighs and hoarse moans are sending me 

[bl6ks5wan]

“Keep you always with me”

The demon brothers like to always keep a trinket that reminds them of their beloved partner with them.

But what would it be?

Lucifer who probably has always an picture of you in his wallet (like some dad) so that no matter where he is or for how long you both are apart he can always see your bright smile. He’s nearly constantly stressed, may it be because of work, his brothers or something else, so the moment he’s alone and able to catch his breath he instantly takes out his wallet and the picture inside it. The avatar of prides fingers would softly trace over your features as his indifferent mask slips and lets his eyes be filled with a soft, loving look. He has many different pictures of you or with you so that he can switch them. (Probably has an drawer dedicated to gifts and pictures of you.)

Mammon who adores matching keychains (he of course wouldn’t actually admit how much he loves them.) Doesn’t matter if you or him are in a new place, if there happens to be keychains then they have to be bought ASAP. It’s like an tradition between you both at this point. If you happen to forget to buy some at your latest trip then he’s gonna brush it off. “Tsk. Why would I care? It’s just some stupid keychain.” Would be Mammons respond but you’d be able to see him sulking quite a lot for the remaining day. And despite the second oldest denial, he doesn’t have a pair of keys or even a trouser that don’t have a keychain hanging onto them.

Leviathan who got you both matching plushies of your favorite characters or ship before he later on made plushies of you both, so that you two can always have a mini version of each other wherever you go. Levi would also make a little shimeji of you. He’d poke the little figure and drag it around, smiling softly at its expressions, which he put a lot of time into to make them as similar as your real ones. If you ever happen to find out about the shimeji he’d get quite embarrassed but if you’d like one of him too then he’d gladly make one of himself for you.

Satan who loves to read the same book that you read at the time, no matter if he already read it or finds it uninteresting. Something about knowing that you both would sink into the same book -into the same world- bringing you close again despite the distance is making him feel comforted and warm. He’d also be the type to keep an small lock or necklace with an piece of your hair in it. Sometimes he’d taking the hair out and brush his fingers over it, careful not to lose some of it, as he can’t wait to be actually able to run his fingers through your hair again.

Asmodeus who already is all for matching clothes but he especially loves having matching accessories with you. Big reason for it being that he gets them extra customized for you both, making them more special and unique. He always makes sure that the accessories fits you and your taste but also would still match with his. Asmo also adores painting his nails in the color of your eyes, making sure the tone is as close to your eyes as possible. Sometimes he’d just space out as he stares at his finger nails, the color seeming to work like an spell on him but not as good as your eyes would do.

Beelzebub who has a stash of candy wrappers in all kind of places but especially his trousers. All these wrappers are from candies that you’ve given him, whenever it was from when he was hungry or simply cause you didn’t like the sweet but didn’t want to waste it. For everyone it would be insignificant -trash to say the least- but for Beel it’s a trinket of love. Such a small actions that came from the purest of your heart and held affection and care for him. So, sometimes when he’s hungry again the avatar of gluttony likes to take out one of these candy wrappers and stare at it. Feeling how his hunger leasend for a while, instead replaced with your warm, genuine love.

Belphegor who would have the same perfume as you or hell, even extra let someone make own that has your exact smell. He adores sleeping on your pillows or in general anything that got your scent on it. For Belphie it’s the sweetest and calmest smell to ever exist, softly wrapping around his like an blanket and pulling him into the nicest, deepest slumbers. So it’s for sure that whenever he’s away from HoL or you he’d have a small bottle of your scent in his pocket, ready to spray anything or anywhere he’s gonna sleep.