#the delightful temptation

[stolas-star-prince]

Continued from here @the-delightful-temptation

Stolas can't help but cover his beak as he tries not to laugh over Ozzie's own dramatics. Before he finds himself easily swept away and brought in closer to Ozzie. So ready to let his eyes flutter close and return the kiss he assumes he would be getting only to be rudely denied. But he finds himself only smiling as he hums over the question.

"perfect?" talons comb through the tuff of floor that stuck out from around Asmoude's neck "hmm I would more say Flawless, or even impeccable, or maybe marvelous or better immaculate?" he slightly coos towards the prince as he twirls the fur around his talon. "Better said I don't think one word alone is enough to describe you Cariño."

Allowing a smirk to grace his beak as he reaches up to trail his touch to the side of their face. "Good thing I'm so well read, though I know so many ways to describe the best sin of them all."

[shadowtoons]

Ozzie shows up behind Barnaby, placing one hand on his shoulder and the other is holding a maid outfit.

"I think you will look absolutely stunning in these, darling." Whispered the sin.

A new outfit? Barnaby did tilt his head at the maid outfit, “Sure!” Without hesitation went to put it on, only to come out after hours of a struggle. Fox it a bit more when he was now in view to Ozzie.

Looking up toward the sinner, “How do I look?” Asking, now he seem confuse.

[a-hazbin-spider]

@the-delightful-temptation posted, and my hands moved on their own oops-

[screentimeoverlord]

@the-delightful-temptation continued from

"Asmodeus! Good to hear that from THE Sin himself. I was looking for a little favour you might do, in the name of lust and love. I figured that's the language you speak. I was wondering if I could trouble you for a pass through to the Lust Ring from Pride. You see, I have this girl here I would love to come along with, she's from Pride originally."

[theneedforgreed]

@the-delightful-temptation

"Hey Ozzie, Bee is out, wanna go have some fun at her place?"

[infernal-feminae]

send "❓" to know what's the first word that crosses my muse's head when they think of yours!

@the-delightful-temptation said: ❓for three muses you want

"Husband~"

"Bad boy~!" Niffty, that's two words-

"Intriguing!"

[another-lost-mc]

Asmodeus reminisces about the past while he eagerly awaits what the future has in store.

The Rules | ASMODEUS x afab!Reader & SOLOMON x afab!Reader 3.6k words | NSFW | Suggestive Content | Asmo-centric POV Content warnings: Reader uses they/them pronouns. Protective Asmo, pet names, (guided) masturbation, sex toys, unrequited love (sort of), pining, jealousy, developing Solomon x f!Reader, past Asmo x Solomon, low self-esteem/body image insecurities, cursing/threats, kink and relationship negotiations, unspecified BDSM activities, aftercare, mentioned Asmo x f!Reader x Solomon. A/N: This can be read as a standalone fic, but it is part of the Insatiable AU. This is a sequel to Part 2, and leads immediately into the next chapter which will feature Asmo x f!Reader x Solomon. Insatiable AU: [Part 1] [Part 2]

Asmo was delighted when you came to the Devildom. He remembers those early days so clearly because you were utterly fascinating. You were cute and charming with wide-eyed innocence, but he could feel the hints of lust radiating off you.

He wanted to tempt you, so he stood closer to you than strangers should and enjoyed the way your desire flared when he flirted with you. He wondered what you would do with the opportunities he gave you. Would you swoon for him like some of his fans do? Would you stare at his lips and imagine kissing him, or would your glances linger as your gaze trailed down his body?

No matter what he did, your resolve never faltered. He was disappointed that you never took advantage of his offers to have a little taste. Asmo knew part of you wanted him - conflicted desire clouded your gaze more often than not - but you never gave into temptation, and you never asked him for anything.

He tried to charm you once, and that failed spectacularly too.

What a curious creature you were.

Since the day you arrived in the Devildom, Asmo could sense the lust burning within you, like embers smoldering deep inside where you tried to pretend the feeling didn't exist. You didn't admit it, but he knew the truth. He knew you chased relief in the dark privacy of your room at night, and he knew you didn't find satisfaction when he saw you the next morning. You sat down at the table for breakfast, and the lust he sensed in you was laced with frustration and disappointment.

If he couldn’t seduce you, perhaps he could find a way to help you. First, he had to earn your trust. He spoke to you honestly about what he sensed in you, and he spent time with you and offered you friendship while you struggled with indecision.

Eventually, you started to confide in him. You told him about your overwhelming urges and believed something was wrong with you. You told him that sometimes your physical desires made you feel so desperate that you were ashamed. You told him it wasn’t easy for you to find physical pleasure without some sort of emotional connection; you craved intimacy and trust, too. You mentioned that you tried to find those things in the human world. He listened with a frown when you told him about the small number of failed relationships you had, and how your past partners satisfied their own needs but neglected yours.

No wonder you were so confused. Lust and self-loathing battered away at your confidence, and you were exhausted trying to pretend those feelings didn’t exist. When you tried to find relief, either by your own hand or someone else’s, you were even more frustrated when nothing seemed to help. It was never enough to satisfy you.

Asmo encouraged you to explore your body and discover what you wanted and what you liked. Perhaps a little instruction would help you find relief on your own, and he offered his assistance. You came to him out of frustration, desperate for his understanding. No one cared about you like this before.

You followed him to his room and laid on the bed beside him after you undressed. He promised not to touch you unless you asked him to. He murmured instructions into your ear and encouraged you to touch yourself. He watched your reactions with half-lidded eyes, and he felt lust pour out of you in waves when you finally felt satisfaction under his intense stare. His gaze lingered on your hands and your heaving chest. His cock ached in his pants, but he ignored it. He suggested when to move your fingers faster, or harder, or deeper. You came more than once, but you kept going - your stamina fascinated him. When you were finally limp and satiated beside him, you chuckled weakly and thanked him. He couldn’t help but grow even more enamored with you.

Your trust in him flourished even more after that. You spoke to him freely about the things you wanted to learn and the things you were curious about. Asmo enjoyed expanding your horizons - it was so much fun! You hid your face bashfully when he showed you a catalogue full of toys, and he pointed out which ones he thought you might like. He didn’t ask to use them on you or watch you use them on yourself. He was elated when he saw you in the mornings and your mood was noticeably improved.

In those early days, Asmo believed he had a chance to be with you. All he thought he needed was patience and time. You were growing closer by the day, and maybe you’d start to feel for him what he already felt for you.

The first time you spent time with Solomon outside of class was during a group outing. You two were were nearly inseparable, and Asmo realized he didn't stand a chance. It wasn't only physical attraction that drew you together, but also unrelenting curiosity and wonder and fulfillment. If he didn't treasure your friendship, it would've been tempting to stop whatever was building between you. He pushed aside his disappointment and supported you instead, as a good friend should.

(And if Solomon hurt you, Asmo vowed to be there for you after he skinned the sorcerer alive.)

Asmo watched your relationship bloom in slow motion. You glanced at Solomon shyly from the corner of your eye in class, and the sorcerer trailed behind you and your demon friends like a puppy begging for your attention. He started sitting closer to you at lunch, and he came up with all sorts of excuses to invite you to Purgatory Hall, or to come see you at the House of Lamentation.

It didn't take long for Solomon to ask you out for a proper date. You didn't even realize it was a date until Asmo clarified that Solomon's motivations were romantic in nature. Your innocence would’ve been charming if it didn’t stem from your poor self-esteem. You didn’t believe someone as handsome as Solomon would want someone that looked like you, especially when he had witches and wizards and demons to choose from instead. You didn’t know Asmo and Solomon used to be a thing either, and you nearly canceled the date altogether when Asmo told you about their past.

“Why would he even want me? He had you, and you’re so ridiculously gorgeous it’s not even funny. If you weren’t enough to make him happy, then how could I?”

Asmo wasn't going to let you throw away something he knew you truly wanted. He reassured you and helped you get ready, and he waited with you in the foyer. He waved goodbye when Solomon arrived to take you to dinner. He was waiting for you when you got home, too.

Solomon walked you home at a respectable hour, and Asmo watched you both from one of the front windows. He’s not sure what you said to each other, but he witnessed your first kiss. Solomon cradled the back of your neck and you cupped his cheek. It was chaste and sweet, a few pecks of his lips pressing gently against yours, but Asmo could feel the turbulent emotions rolling off you both.

Asmo wiped away the tears trickling from the corners of his eyes before you came inside. He asked you how dinner was out of politeness; the dreamy looks on your faces when the kiss ended told him everything he needed to know.

Things between you and Solomon escalated quickly after that. You were radiating lust like Asmo had never seen before, and he knew who it was you were thinking of when you got yourself off with your hands and toys every night. The inconvenience of RAD classes didn't deter either of you, and Asmo noticed that Solomon was just as needy for you. The sorcerer stared at you with obvious hunger. On more than one occasion, Asmo noticed him readjusting himself discreetly when the mere sight of you made him hard in his uniform slacks.

Asmo couldn’t stop what was going to happen if he wanted to; it was only a matter of time before your dates and coy kisses led to more. He knew your feelings for each other were genuine, and he trusted Solomon not to hurt you.

(Asmo gave him the shovel talk and made it clear what fate awaited the sorcerer if he did.)

Asmo decided he could ignore his own jealousy and longing if it meant you could find the happiness you craved. He came up with an excuse to invite Simeon and Luke to the House of Lamentation for a weekend sleepover, and that gave you and Solomon privacy at Purgatory Hall for your first time together.

You asked Asmo to help you find something to wear for your special evening with Solomon. He stretched across your bed while you pulled clothes out of your closet and dresser, held them up to your body, and tossed them aside with frustrated huffs.

Asmo shook his head as more and more clothing ended up on the floor. "Sweetie, don't you think you're going just a touch overboard?" You were going to run out of clothes to wear at this rate.

You glared at him in the mirror. "You don't get it. This needs to be perfect." You picked up a cute black sweater and tossed that aside too.

Asmo frowned. "He adores you. You could wear a paper bag and he'd still want you." You stared at your feet while you fidgeted nervously. "Come on, talk to me. What's really bothering you?"

You crossed your arms over your chest and sniffled, but you wouldn't look at him. "What if he thinks I'm ugly?"

Asmo's jaw dropped open and he blinked at you. "What the hell are you talking about?"

You were in your bra and underwear, and you jabbed your finger at yourself, pointing out all of the so-called imperfections you were worried Solomon wouldn't like. You pointed out your breast size, your collection of scars and dimples and stretch marks, your hips and jiggly thighs. You even twisted around and glared at your ass in the mirror. You snapped the waistband of your underwear and wondered whether Solomon would judge your lingerie for not being sexy enough.

Asmo swallowed thickly and thanked his luck; there was a pillow across his lap that covered his poorly-timed erection. You were drawing his hungry eyes to all the things he loved about your body, and he wanted you desperately - he knew Solomon did too. He also knew this moment of self-loathing was a result of your human world upbringing. It was easy to forget that so much of your self-esteem was based on what others told you you were worth.

Asmo couldn't take it anymore. He willed away his erection long enough to hug you and stop your self-deprecating tirade. "You're beautiful, and Solomon is the luckiest creature in all the Devildom because he gets to spend tonight with you." He kissed your cheeks until your tear-stained frown turned into a reluctant grin at his silliness. "Now, how about I help you pick something to wear so you can get fucked senseless by that boyfriend of yours?"

Once you were ready, you left for your date while the others were watching a movie in the living room. Asmo watched you and Solomon walk out of view before he closed the front door with a sigh. No one bothered asking where you and Solomon were; if anyone knew what you two were really up to, no one said a thing.

Asmo invited you to his room after Solomon escorted you home the next day. You stopped trying to hide the limp in your gait when he shut the door behind you. Even beneath the scent of Solomon’s body wash, Asmo could still smell him on you. He ran you a bath and he examined your body as you undressed. Your neck and chest were thoroughly marked, but he didn’t the break skin. You sank into the warm water and stared at the ceiling while Asmo slipped into the bath beside you. He wrapped an arm around you, and turned your head to look at him.

“I didn’t know it could feel that way,” you whispered wonderingly, finally breaking the long silence that fell between you. You blinked back tears, but you smiled so happily. Asmo knew you found something special in this relationship, and he vowed to protect it. He held you close while you relaxed and let the water soothe your weary limbs. He washed your skin so you smelled faintly of roses instead of the ship-on-the-bottle brand Solomon used.

Asmo thought your first time with Solomon might help take the edge off the lustful urges you struggled with, but things burned brighter than before for both of you. You were slowly gaining confidence to explore your sexual desires with Solomon, and he was more than willing to give you whatever you asked of him.

Asmo came to terms with how perfect you seemed for each other. He watched the sorcerer fall harder for you than he had for anyone else before - including himself. You still confided in Asmo since he was the only demon you trusted with your personal, intimate confessions.

What worried him now was your growing interest in experimenting sexually with Solomon. From what Asmo gathered, you and Solomon were still engaging in relatively vanilla sex. Asmo knew Solomon well enough that it was only a matter of time before he started suggesting you try new things together. He also knew your experience with anything kinky was practically nonexistent.

Your heightened desire could be taken advantage of in the heat of the moment, and even though he doubted Solomon would do that, Asmo wanted to make sure you were informed and safe.

When you asked Asmo for advice on how to educate yourself, he already had a solution prepared. The Fall hosted special interest events from time to time. There was a special show he wanted you to see. He promised it was going to be hands-off for educational purposes only. You would watch it together, and afterwards he would answer all your questions.

You must've told Solomon that you were going to The Fall with Asmo, because he showed up at the House of Lamentation while you were getting ready. Asmo dragged him to his bedroom and hoped their angry voices wouldn't reach your ears.

"What do you mean, 'no?' Of course I'm coming with you!"

"Absolutely not."

"You can't stop me, Asmo. They're my lover, not yours. I should be there too."

"Don't start posturing with me. It's not about that and you know it. You can't come, Solomon. Not for this."

The sorcerer stepped into Asmo's space and his hands clenched into fists. "Tell me why."

"They need to decide for themselves what they like or don't like. I won't risk them trying to ignore their preferences to please you." Asmo bared his fangs - he wouldn't be threatened by him. "I'm doing this to protect them for both your sakes, so if you really care about them, back the fuck off."

Whatever Solomon was going to say next was interrupted by your knock on the door. The demon and sorcerer jumped apart so that you wouldn't think anything was amiss between them.

Solomon looked like he wanted to argue some more, but his anger deflated and he pulled you into a hug. "Call me later," he murmured against your temple. He shot Asmo one more glare over your shoulder before he stormed off.

As promised, Asmo took you to The Fall. He led you around the dancefloor to a plain door that led to the basement. The space was smaller and it was dimly lit. There was the slightest tinge of musk and iron in the air when you sniffed. You sat beside Asmo near the back of the room and observed what the other demons in the audience were - and weren't - wearing.

He reached for your hand and leaned over as the stage was suddenly bathed with red light. "Watch for now and we'll talk about it later. Let me know when you're ready to leave." You weren't sure what he meant, but you nodded anyway. You refocused your gaze on the demons that were making their way onto the stage.

While you sat entranced by what was happening on the stage, Asmo's attention was focused on you. He felt the way your interest ebbed and flowed with the different sex acts and kinks on display; your lust flared brightly when you saw something you liked, and it dulled to a simmer when you saw something you didn't. You couldn't lie to him about this, and this is why he didn't want Solomon here. He needed to read your honest reaction without letting Solomon's preferences affect yours.

The longer the show went on, the more intense the show became. You were growing less and less aroused by what you were seeing. Sometimes you squirmed awkwardly in your seat, or you looked down at your lap when you couldn't bear to watch. Asmo felt when the flare of lust suddenly vanished. When you turned suddenly and buried yourself into Asmo's side with a whimper, he knew it was time to go.

You were still shaking by the time Asmo got you home and into a bath. You weren't ready to talk about it yet and he wasn't going to rush you. You protested weakly when he led you to his bed to sleep, but he kissed your brow and hushed you. "Try to relax," he whispered. "Sleep and we'll discuss it tomorrow, whenever you're ready."

Asmo watched you fall asleep beside him, and he frowned when his D.D.D. vibrated on the nightstand. He made sure yours was turned off so you wouldn't be disturbed, but he must've forgotten to turn off his too. He reached for it carefully so he didn't wake you.

Solomon: I tried calling them but it went to voicemail. I was worried. Are they alright?

Asmodeus: We left when they felt ill. They're sleeping now.

Solomon. Fuck.

Solomon: I should be there. Can I come over?

Asmodeus: No, I'll take care of them tonight. When we're done discussing everything, you'll be the first to know.

The next day, you spent a lot of time in contemplative silence and occasionally asked Asmo questions about what you saw. He tried to give you straightforward answers that were free of judgement and shame - he was glad you were taking this seriously. You asked about positions and toys and tools, and he told you about safety measures and hard and soft limits and how to communicate those things to Solomon.

Asmo promised he would always be there to support you, and you appreciated it. He still wanted you to have the knowledge and confidence to advocate for your own desires and boundaries too. With his help, you wrote a list of things you wanted to try, and the things you already knew you were your limits.

When Solomon came over to see you, you handed him your list and waited for his input. He read it over once, and he asked some clarifying questions, and read it over again. Asmo was relieved when Solomon smiled and embraced you.

Asmo was there when you and Solomon finalized your list - the rules - that guided your sexual experimentation. It helped keep you both safe and satisfied. He knew you made adjustments to the rules as you explored your bodies and pleasure together. Over time you added things and removed things, and even though it wasn’t necessary, you still sought Asmo’s guidance along the way.

You and Solomon approached him together one day and discussed adjusting some of the rules so Asmo could join you for play. He didn’t expect it, but he sensed you both genuinely wanted it. Solomon’s stipulations were what Asmo expected. The sorcerer’s possessiveness for you was still strong, and he had specific limits for when and how Asmo could touch you.

In the end, Asmo agreed because he wasn't stupid, and he knew how to make the best of any situation. He wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity to be with you, and he was curious about watching you and Solomon together. Those occasions were rare, but they were no less sweet or sexy or indulgent; he cherished them all.

Things fell into a routine between you, Solomon and occasionally Asmo. He watched you both push the limits of desire and decency together with amusement. You fucked in your dormitories or the vacant spaces of RAD where you could find a few minutes of privacy. Solomon was shameless about his desire for you, and you were desperate to have him. It was a delectable sight to witness.

Asmo sits at his vanity and smiles at the latest revision of the rules you presented to him earlier that day. There were new opportunities for Asmo's involvement in your bedroom activities. He's already imagining the possibilities since most of the previous limitations around his participation were adjusted or completely removed. Solomon's revisions are the most obvious; the sorcerer was always a bit of a voyeur.

Asmo thinks about the special dance at The Fall tomorrow night the three of you are attending. He reserved a private room at the club so whatever happens on the dancefloor can continue without the awkward walk home first.

He giggles with anticipation and bites his lip, nearly salivating at the thought of getting to touch you properly for the first time.

He can hardly wait.

[redyarns]

resist much, obey little (ch 1)

Alastor had a noose around his neck.

There was only one person who could loosen it.

--------

Temptation had never strung Lucifer along. He was an angel of Heaven no matter what anyone else said, and he had never fallen whim to any of the sins that humans were so eager to do.

And Alastor, a demon and a sinner who had fallen even further after death, was the most forbidden fruit of all.

He was the very embodiment of blasphemy.

But by God, did Lucifer want him.

--------

Knock-knock.

Lucifer let out a weak groan as he slowly let his arm slide off his eyes and off the side of the couch. Red starlight drifted through the torn curtains of a nearby window and nearly blinded him even with his eyes closed, and he had to squint and blink half a dozen times before he raised a hand and scrubbed at his face. 

Knock-knock. 

“Give me a second,” he called to the idiot who kept banging on his door. 

He felt like, well. He felt like someone had take a grinder, stuffed him inside, made him into a sausage, and then shoved said sausage into all their orifices. 

He hadn't felt this tired, this pained, in a very long time, and he liked to think he had a high pain tolerance. Nothing had hurt him quite as much as the Fall, or when Lilith left, or when he had to acknowledge his subjects, but he still couldn't quite shake the bone-aching exhaustion as there was a small rustle beside him along with a coo. 

Knock-knock-knock. 

“I said in a minute!” Lucifer barked again, the infuriating sound pacified at least for now as his tone shifted into something far more gentle while he curled around the small bundle of warmth that he had fallen asleep with. “My little princess, did you sleep well?” 

Charlotte Morningstar was the apple of his eye and she was all the more beautiful because of it. She was tucked carefully in between the solid back of the couch and his own body. There was no one in Hell or even the Heavens that would try to defy him and dare to harm her, but it quelled at least some of the constant anxiety in him to know she was near him. 

She waved her chubby fists in the air, her eyes already crinkled at the edges with her delighted smile, and he couldn't help it as he gathered her even closer and buried his nose into her soft, beautiful hair and inhale the smell of baby powder. 

“Well, starshine, I guess it's time to see who wants to bother our peace so early in the morning,” Lucifer sighed. 

Honestly, what kind of fool knocked on anyone's door this early, much less the devil's himself? He dreamed of strangling the idiot who was standing outside his house; maybe it was a stupid imp who wandered somewhere they shouldn't have, or Asmodeus coming to whine to him again, or even worse, Lili - 

KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK. 

“How dare you disturb your king's slumber?” Lucifer roared, now fully enraged as he ripped open the door so forcefully that it was torn off the hinges completely. 

Bits of wood and debris rained around him as his tail lashed in anger, his horns spontaneously grown out of the crown of his head, and he was only a second away from turning this worthless demon into a husk, only for a piece of paper to suddenly be shoved into his face. 

“What the - “ Lucifer said, and he squinted to read the blurry text, a result of staying up far too many nights in a row and refusing to do anything about it. 

Hey, Idiot! 

Want a job no other can fulfill? Do you want some light shed in your otherwise pitifully empty life? 

Are you capable of destroying the very atoms who dare to disturb my own? 

Then this is the job for you! 

Your King of Hell is in need of assistance! 

(Fail and I will rip out your intestines, stuff them with your liver and kidneys, and make you eat your meat sausages while gouging out your eyes to prepare you jelly on toast.)

Details include: 

-Changing and checking diapers

-Feeding and napping at appropriate times

-Obliterating anyone who dares to harm Charlie or make her cry 

-Entertaining her and keeping her away from that blasted thing called a television

-Keeping me, your boss (and overlord and King of Hell) updated on every activity she does

-Schedule appointments and calls accordingly

-And anything else I ask you because I said so

Contact the number below to get in touch with me, Lucifer Morningstar, to schedule an interview today! 

666-666-6666

Lucifer had to read it once, twice, before he managed to dig up some fuzzy memory from about at least four months ago. 

He remembered it in pieces; how exhausted he was as he tried to cope with the loss of his wife and the sudden gain of a child; his madness as he tried his best to coax Charlie into sleep, even as she refused and wailed; his internal grief as he tried to understand what to do or how to do it. 

He had summoned a succubus and demanded that they put up all of his haphazardly made fliers all around hell. In complete honesty, he had forgotten all about it as soon as the papers disappeared from his desk, as Charlie had proceeded to vomit over his button-up and was wailing again. She'd developed a fever and the night had dissolved into a frenzy to better her as quickly as possible. 

He hadn't expected anyone to read the flier, much less even give it a second thought, and his horns and tail slowly disappeared as he pushed aside the paper and glared at the demon who dared to show up right at his doorstep. 

The demon was a sinner. He had a soul unlike the hellborne, and seemed to enjoy it, too. He grinned too widely and seemed way too into the dress-red-for-Hell theme, and when he spoke, his voice crackled with the poor frequency of an old timey radio as he said, “well hello to you, my liege! I suppose I might have troubled you this morning, but I’m here about your curious job offer!” 

“Why are you here at all?” Lucifer snapped, balancing Charlie on his hip and bouncing her when she began to fuss. She drooled on the lapel of his jacket, but as long as she wasn't crying, that was fine by him, so he allowed her to continue as he snarled, “the flier says to call me at the number on the bottom! Are you as blind as you are disobedient?” 

The demon's grin widened just by a fraction of an inch, and he bent down into a deep, sarcastic bow. “My apologies, Your Majesty. That was not an oversight on my part; I just don't have a fondness for those… things.” 

“Things?” 

“Cellphones,” the demon said slowly, like the word was clunky and ill-fitting in his mouth. He rubbed his chin with clawed fingers in thought and said, “I'm rather old fashioned, you could say, and those little devices with their tiny buttons are beyond my time.” 

“Huh,” Lucifer grunted, less than a little interested in whatever the demon was saying. He had most of his attention on Charlie, who was now gnawing on his finger with her gums, and he said, “yeah, whatever you say, grandpa. If you want an interview then come in. But touch anything and I'll kill you.” 

“I wouldn't dream of it, sire!” The demon trilled happily as he stepped over the threshold and, bizarrely enough, summoned a microphone staff and used it like a cane. 

This demon was an unusual one, even among Lucifer's bunch of vile and annoying little shits he called his subjects, and he wondered if he made a mistake letting him in as he pointed at the now broken pieces of the door and said, “that's your first question. If you really aren't illiterate and you read that flier, then you know I don't want some useless little wimp. Show me how powerful you are and then I'll - “ 

Magic swelled in the air like a sudden puff of air, and Lucifer blinked as the door was suddenly fixed and placed back on its hinges. Why, the smug asshole even decorated the damn thing with little carvings of microphones all around the edges. 

“You didn't let me finish,” Lucifer snarled. 

“No need to, Your Majesty,” the demon said, looking rather pleased with his handiwork as he observed the wood. “What kind of assistant would I be if I couldn't at least predict your basic wants or needs?” 

Lucifer stared, tilting his head slightly.

The demon didn’t say the words in contempt. In fact, he seemed excited about it, which further solidified the idea that he was a weirdo. 

Lucifer was the leader of the Pride Ring, after all, so he was excellent at evoking hilarious reactions by poking at people's sensitive prides, but this demon didn't seem at all offended over the demeaning job of being an assistant. 

And to think a powerful demon like this existed at all… his magic from just now was similarly no joke. It was the kind of stuff that tingled across Lucifer's skin and nearly down his back and to his wings, which rustled restlessly when he thought too hard about it. 

He always had them tucked away for several reasons, but to think a sinner had the ability to create enough power to have him move even a single feather was… impressive. 

It was impressive and he was annoyed about it, which probably showed on his face as he clicked his tongue and said, “show off. Fine. Charlie has to have breakfast now, so come on.” 

Lucifer ignored the way the demon's smile crinkled at the edges as he turned on his heel and marched to the kitchen. 

It pinched the edge of his mind to see just how destroyed the place was. Various toys, baby contraptions, clothes, and uneaten food littered the place. 

It also smelled vaguely like baby powder and oil, and Lucifer himself probably looked like an actual disaster with how his hair was unkempt and he hadn't changed his clothes in three days, but he was too tired to care as he stepped over a mountain of stuffed animals. 

The kitchen was no less of a messy tornado than the living room, but at least the high-top was clean. 

Lucifer cooed to his daughter as she kicked her legs and squealed in delight when he lifted her into the air and kissed her bare belly, distracting her from destroying yet another piece of furniture. 

“She doesn't like sitting,” Lucifer sing-songed, keeping his voice as high-pitched and sweet as possible while slowly starting to lower her into the cushion of the chair. “But as long as you keep her distracted, she can do it with minimum fuss! Right, Charlie? Right, starshine? My wonderful wittie bittie girl, look how good you are!” 

Lucifer let out a huge, admittedly rather relieved sigh when she let her chubby legs stick through the opening of the high-too while she bashed her tiny fists onto the table. She only made small, little displeased noises when he tied a bib around her neck and she blew a raspberry, but that was it. 

This was turning out to be a great morning, then. 

“Go on,” Lucifer said, turning around and crossing his arms as he tried to look as intimidating as possible. It was then that he realized the demon was at least a foot taller than him; the audacity! “Feed her. That's your second question; if you really want this job, you should know how to take care of a baby.” 

“Hmm,” the demon hummed. He didn't seem at all perturbed by the hostility nor the near harassment of demands, and he merely waltzed over to the fridge, opening it and bending at the waist to observe what was inside. 

After only a moment of looking, he reached in and grabbed several apples, all bright red and crisp. He took care to avoid any of the ones with spots on them, Lucifer realized, and the demon whistled a cheery tune as he juggled four apples easily and then threw them all up at once. 

He snapped his fingers and a blender popped into existence, taking the fruits with ease and floating in the air as it blended them into a sauce. 

“There,” he said, smug and satisfied as the blender poured out several mini jars of perfectly liquified apples. “Nutritious and well-processed to avoid any chunks.” 

“Anyone can blend apples, smarta - smarty-pants,” Lucifer snapped. “I mean feed her. I don't give a shi - crud if you’re powerful and if you've read every single parenting book in the realm. If she doesn't like you, I’ll crush you here and now.” 

That was the barest truth of all of this. Lucifer was the most powerful of them all, could destroy any single one of them into dust if he truly wanted, so what did it matter if this single demon was slightly stronger than average? 

All demons had the potential to grow just as much as he had, but Lucifer didn’t give a flying rat's ass about that. It simply boiled down to if Charlie liked them. 

He refused to have someone be her caretaker if she hated them. She needed love, warmth, compassion - all the things no regular demon could give. She deserved those things, and Lucifer had already given his whole heart to her, but he knew it wasn't enough. 

For the first time since he got there, the demon hesitated. His smile waned only by a centimeter, but it was noticeable enough, and he eyed Charlie apprehensively. 

After another second of contemplation, he approached her slowly, and Lucifer watched from only a few feet away, his wings threatening to burst out of his back from how tense he was. 

He didn't know this demon, couldn't trust him as far as he could throw him, and if there was even the slightest chance that he would hurt Charlie, Lucifer had to intervene and make him eat his own intestines. 

Luckily, the demon didn't do such a thing. 

He set aside his microphone, leaning it against the counter, and he bent slightly so that he was eye-level with the baby. 

Charlie gurgled, a noise of curiosity more than apprehension or fear, and she drooled a little as she stared at him and blinked in question when he curled a finger and a jar of applesauce floated towards him. 

“Your Highness, although I know it must be very early in the morning for you, it's imperative to a young demon's health to eat well in order to grow and ascend to their rightful place,” the demon said. “In your case, it's your throne. It would be a tremendous help if you didn't make a fuss.” 

Lucifer watched in bewilderment. 

This man talked to his Charlie like she could understand a word that he just said. On good days, she could comprehend basic commands of no or stop , but that was the absolute limit. 

She didn't even know what her hands were, or had any sort of object permanence! How could this stupid demon expect her to understand any of that? 

But instead of flinging applesauce into his face like Lucifer expected, Charlie merely popped her lips, grumbled for a few seconds, and then opened her mouth obediently. 

Lucifer's jaw dropped as the demon laughed from his throat. 

“Well done, Princess,” the demon said, his eyes crescent-shaped from how pleased he was. He even spoon-fed her with his hand, not his magic, and he continued to speak like she was a grown woman instead of a baby who dribbled most of the applesauce down her chin and to her bib. “You are exceeding my expectations already. I have no doubt you will continue to do so.” 

He hummed as she continued to eat, slowly making her way through the jar of fruit. Anytime some of the sauce spilled out of the corner of her lips, he patiently wiped it away with a summoned handkerchief, and he even allowed her to grip onto one of his fingers as he fed her. 

Charlie loved grabbing things. It was her way of seeking comfort or validation when she was doing something new, and she had never eaten apples before this. She always loved to tug on Lucifer's hair or his clothes with an iron grip, but she seemed completely at ease as she licked at the spoon and smiled gummily at the demon when he tutted. 

“Your Highness, etiquette is important to proper young ladies like yourself,” he said, but his voice was gentle and not admonishing as he rubbed at her cheek again with his napkin. She beamed at the touch and giggled. “Yes, yes. You are forgiven. Now, let's make sure you don't regret your breakfast, shall we?” 

Before Lucifer even had a chance to say anything, the demon scooped Charlie up and out of her chair. Her legs kicked like she always did whenever she realized she was about to be carried, and she snuggled against his shoulder as he properly secured her to his chest and began patting her back. 

He was burping her. 

He had managed to feed her, soothe her, indulge her habit of grabbing things, and he was now burping her. 

Lucifer felt like a puppet whose strings were just cut as he sagged suddenly against the counter and had to grip it tightly to make sure he didn't crumble to the ground. 

For the first time ever since Charlie's birth, he had a moment of freedom, a moment to breathe, and he inhaled deeply as he ran a hand through his disheveled hair and hysterically thought to himself that he now had a chance to shower.

“Demon,” he commanded as best as he could, but it really sounded like he was on the brink of toppling over as he continued to watch the pair. 

“Hmm?” The demon replied, never stopping as he continued to pat Charlie's back while walking in a circle, bouncing slightly with each step so she wouldn't grow bored. 

“Your name,” Lucifer said. 

The demon grinned at him. It was a disturbing smile, really, and Lucifer had half the mind to wipe it off his smug little face for daring to look so triumphant, but he refrained. 

After all, the demon seemed to understand the hidden meaning of his question, and when he spoke, his voice crackled at the edges of his pleasure as he bowed slightly and said, “Alastor.” 

“Well, Alastor,” Lucifer said, hauling himself up to his feet and trying to blink away the spots in his eyes. “I hope you know what you're getting yourself into.”

Alastor purred. 

“I look forward to working with you, Your Majesty.” 

[keenie-bopper]

Happy Birthday Asmodeus!

6/9/2024 (dd/mm/yyyy) Birthday RP Thread Out Now! - @the-delightful-temptation

[iisasarcasticlittleshite]

could you make a part 2 to print 10 with obey me plss 🥰

Coming right up hun <3

Satan

'I made you some tea since it's a little late for coffee, have you gotten anyw-' Satan froze mid-word, eyes going wide as he takes in the sight of MC curled up on his bed, swallowed by his sweater, thumbs hooked in the sleeves.

MC looked up at him, eyes big and clear, like a kitten in the dark, eyelashes fluttering as they took in the effect they were having on him.

All curled up in fluffy socks, nestled in a nest of pillows like a cat in winter, Satan can't help but smile, cheeks growing pink.

'Well, you coming?'

MC set their book aside, opened their arms, and threw in the pout for good measure. Before their eyes, the avatar of Wrath melted, settling in the bed to pull them into his chest and curl up tight, nuzzling into the warm skin of their neck.

'You shouldn't be allowed to be so adorable.' He growled into their neck, gripping them tight to his chest.

'What're you gonna do about it, huh?' MC challenged teasingly, tilting their head back, lips posed invitingly in a pout.

Satan sighed, sinking into the temptation of kissing those pouting lips, humming in delight when the human gripped his shoulders to pull themselves closer.

'You need to stop stealing my clothes, or I won't be responsible for what happens next.'

Asmodeus

'Ooooh! Baby look at you!'

MC startled in place, almost dropping the perfume bottle they'd been looking at when Asmo quite literally tackled them into a hug from behind, dipping his hands under the oversized jumper they'd pinched from his wardrobe.

Normally, a theft from his wardrobe would put the avatar of lust on a warpath, but for his sweetheart, Asmo's set aside an entire drawer of things that MC's allowed, and even encouraged to steal.

'I knew this one would suit you.' He chirped, eagerly rubbing his cheek against the human's. 'You look so comfy.'

MC giggled, allowing the demon to lavish them in attention, just this once. They knew what they were doing, any time they steal Asmo's clothes, they know he won't be letting them out of his sight any time soon.

Asmo kissed their cheek, admiring them in the mirror before taking out his phone to take a picture.

'Asmo, don't you dare post that!'

'I won't, promise. You know this kind of cuteness is all for me, sweetheart.' The avatar of lust churred, turning the human to face him, still holding his phone as he pressed their foreheads together, pecking the corner of their lips. 'I love it when you steal my clothes. You should do it more often.'

'Absolutely not.'

Beelzebub/Belphegour

Beel shuffled through the door with armloads of food, gingerly kicking it shut behind him before stopping in his tracks at the sight that greeted him.

Belphie and MC were curled up on his bed, MC swallowed by one of Beel's hoodies and Belphie's blanket spread over their legs, with the youngest himself resting his head in their lap with both arms wrapped around their waist.

'Are...were you two cold?' Beel wondered. He should be used to the little cuddle piles his twin creates with MC every time he turns around, but that never stops him from melting a little every time he walks into them looking so dang comfortable.

MC giggled, running their fingers through Belphie's hair. 'Nah, just cozy. Come on.'

At their urging, he spreads the food out over the bed and sets up the laptop for a movie, sliding in on the human's opposite side so they could lean against him.

Belphie sleepily shifts himself to be able to see the screen, shuffling up until he's resting on MC's shoulder, stretching to kiss their cheek.

'You look cute in Beel's stuff, it's so huge on you.'

Beel glanced down at the human in his hoodie, dwarfed by the warm fabric, and voice his thoughts allowed. 'You should wear the team jersey next time, you'd look cute.'

MC flushed under the praise, hiding their face in Beel's arm. 'Shush.'

Beel quietly kissed the crown of their head, letting his lips linger and take in the warm smell of their hair.

Belphie nested back against the human's thighs, this time on his back so he could gaze up at those beautiful eyes. 'You look good in our clothes, ya know?'

[stolas-star-prince]

@the-delightful-temptation continued from [here]

Stolas was partly serious with his request in truth? it was a perfect idea for the prince all those years spent reading to pass his days well he could get through books. He'd been able to easily breeze through a number of documents like nothing besides it meant getting to be around Asmoudeous? And how could anything that allowed that be wrong?

He smirks slightly when he feels a claw pull his attention off the paper and onto them of course, Ozzie preferred Stolas attention on him after all. It was cute how needy the Lust Prince could be. "I do handle some business matters Asmodeus" Stolas happily points out reaching up to idly run his talons along Asmoudeous' cheek himself. Stolas moves to follow their lead, setting the paper he was looking over down a moment.

Happily takes his place on the lust prince's lap, letting his legs rest on top there he just playful combos his talks through the thick fluff of their neck a moment.

"Oh, you can't no somehow I was very unaware of just how much you love to ravish me, darling." he jokes with heavy sarcasm for a moment. "But I do mean it Ozzie, I like well more than like, adore being around you and I miss you dearly when I don't get to see this very handsome face of yours. Besides" he smirks a little

"A certain someone is far too impatience and doesn't always properly seem to read things through he should."

[shadowtoons]

Ozzie holds Baranby's hand, Pulling him close to him.

"Since you enjoy a good party. Why don't you come on over and we can have a private party in my place"

A private party? He smiled at the other about it, “Sounds like fun! Hoohoo!!” With excitement toward Ozzie about it. Bleping through his smile now.

“Happily to come over for that!!” Barnaby giving another hoot as he speaks.

[a-hazbin-spider]

( ⚆ _ ⚆ )

Is That Blood?! || @the-delightful-temptation

Was most of this blood his? Surprisingly not, actually. Though it might be hard to tell the way blood makes a rather obvious appearance, plastering what was white fur to his little body. Seems he and the men with him had a bit of a disagreement. And despite being slightly winded, he gives one body a nice hard kick with a small laugh of triumph. Oops. Surprise Asmodeus! It’s a mess!

[helluvaoutlaw]

CHALLENGE!

Either eat an entire bucket of rusty nails OR call Asmodeus "Daddy" for the rest of the week till Sinday!

.............

"Hhmmmm...."

(((You're-...you're not actually considering eating a bucket of rusty nails, are you?)))

"Now hear me out-"

(((Striker...)))

"If I eat 'em with looots of milk..."

(((Striker.)))

"...They'll go down more smoothly..."

(((STRIKER DON'T.)))

"Only problem is when they'll get out..."

*He's already mixing up rusty nails with milk in a bowl*

(((STRIKER!!! )))

"Y'ALL ALWAYS TELL ME TO GET MORE IRON IN MY DIET, STOP COMPLAININ'!"

@the-delightful-temptation

[theneedforgreed]

@the-delightful-temptation replied to your post “Ozzie out showing his wood again..”:

"Sometimes I forget to tie my robe properly"

"We know Ozzie.."

[alexanderlightweight]

Hello—first, I’m so glad you’re back to writing omg I missed you!

Second, a prompt for Wednesday—something with Saeth’s dominion magic? If they’re okay with it and you would like to, of course.

Yes okay so this took a bit because @saeths decided to weigh in and utterly ruin my timeline by giving me an even more in depth view.

Uh basically Magnus is a dragon (still Asmodeus kid and has been living in Edom and enjoying traumatizing his father and Lilith and Brooklyn gs a nice pool and cache of domino magic just looking to find someone worthy).

The rest of it is on ao3 because it gets nsfw

—

Alec isn’t sure what’s worse, the part where the entirety of New York’s dominion magic just surrendered him like an horderve.

Or the part where he’s apparently, dragon catnip.

“Oh.”

The dragon that should not exist says and Alec is nearly buffeted by sheer volume of the dragon's sudden delight.

Alec backs up warily, wondering the best way to try and salvage this meeting. Especially when the dragon makes a sound like a coo and Alec is suddenly incredibly vulnerable.

It started like every other day that angel forsaken week. What with the magical leylines practically bleeding out and the natural flow of dominion magic snarling and snapping like a dammed brook.

And Alec does as the clave expects him to. When he finds a possible answer to why the magic is so off, he follows it, because the risks taken are worth the claves reward.

Or at least that’s what the clave likes to say.

And so Alec slips into darkness of the rift, wondering what it says about the magic that it clings to him like a guide, rather than a lure.

And Alec still doesn’t understand, not until he’s in a vast, empty room with invisible pressure from each side and a reverberating voice that shakes him from the inside out.

And then he introduces himself, gasping out his name from his hands and knees as carefully releases his mental and physical grips on his weapons.

“We didn’t know the magic claimed a sovereign.” Alec admits and he tries to shuffle back, demanding that his legs obey him. “I would never have intruded otherwise. I can let the Institute and shadowworld leaders know you’ve—“

And Alec stops talking when a hot, nearly sizzling gust of breath warns him to stay quiet. It’s an immediate and dignified refusal and he has to stay kneeling, thighs trembling together as his body begs him to run and he wills it to stay.

The dragon’s claws are each as thick as Alec’s own thighs and some of them are as tall as he is. And Alec closes his eyes and remembers his training as his body stiffens the closer each deadly, giant claw gets.

“Mine.”

—

Magnus hasn’t been this close to something so small and humanoid in literal centuries and he can’t contain his curiosity.

When Magnus grew bored and ripped through the rift Lilith made, he hadn’t expected the deep well of magic that had been waiting, abandoned and unclaimed.

So Magnus followed the magic and found a lair and magic that declares his authority and now this.

It’s so incredibly soft and pretty and delicate.

It’s precious.

And Magnus wants to hold it.

He’s going to keep it.

Forever.

Possibly in his mouth so he can taste it at the same time he protects it.

The magic is easing him into it, letting him know that this boy, his Alexander, is a banquet already won.

So Magnus samples when he wants to devour and when he finally gets a taste, he wants to wrap his tongue and magic around Alexander and steal down to deep beneath the earth and keep him there.

Instead Magnus lets the magic sink deep into himself and he coils around his shadowhunter.

Alexander is pure temptation.

A beacon of pure angelic energy and he’s so stunning, such a glorious and hidden gem that Magnus has found.

Magnus manages one verbal claim and then he has to tuck the unprotesting treasure into his mouth.

And now, completely pleased with himself, Magnus carries him off to be secreted away. Somewhere they can’t be bothered by the pesky mortality and needs of other sentient beings.

“Alexander.” Magnus says again, because he likes the way the name sounds, only to frown at how garbled it sounds coming from around Alexander’s body.

Slowly he lowers Alexander to the ground and licks him gently, wondering when exactly human clothes became so flimsy. However he can't exactly complain because now Magnus has miles and miles of skin to decorate.

“You’re—“ his shadowhunter starts to ask but he pauses obediently when Magnus shifts forms and leans down to grab his jaw, tilting Alexander’s head up and admiring a gemstone next to his skin.

Magnus is several inches taller than his shadowhunter, even in one of his smaller forms, and he summons a handful of gems to hold up to Alexander's skin.

“Magnus Bane, your new sovereign, treasure.” Magnus says as he throws a ruby over his shoulder when it doesn’t meet his standards. He brings up a rather nice peridot and considers it before it too is lacking and then he pounces.

He rolls them; so his shadowhunter’s undoubtedly soft skin won’t bruise, and then he pins Alexander to the cold piles of metal and rocks and kisses him eagerly.

It’s been ages upon ages since Magnus kissed and it takes them both a moment to work out where teeth go.