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rae-writes · 10 months ago

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⊹ Candles [reversed] ⊹

since it's my birthday, I wanted to do a little special self-indulgence, so here's this! || 2.k || written with poly!Mc in mind + our son Luke

4 am

Early in the morning, before the faux light has even spread across the Devildom, Mammon is in your bed. He’s pushed his way through your door, half asleep himself, stumbled over and climbed underneath your covers (that he swears are softer than his), and has pulled you into his arms.

Every year, he insists on being the first person to wish you a Happy Birthday, and if not that, then the first who gets to tell you in person— so he's found that coming to your room before the day even begins gets him his title of ‘first’ and gives him alone time with you.

It’s much too early to be awake right now, so he’s content with falling back to sleep with you. His body is in complete contact with yours and he sleepily swears not to let go because he loves you too much.

5 am

An hour later, or maybe even less than, Asmo comes to sneak you from his brother’s grasp, gently hauling your barely conscious frame to his room. He wants you to keep getting as much beauty sleep as you can, but he still wants to start getting you ready for your big day!

Of course, Azzy’s been planning this for weeks, so he has everything prepared and laid out. His alone time with you consists of him lowering you into the steaming bath and massaging you well, scrubbing your hair and body until you’re squeaky clean and practically shining, before toweling you off and dressing you in the clothes he’d set aside.

Your skin care is done and your hair is fixed flawlessly, nails cut, filed, and painted; everything is all done up by the man himself and he tops it all off with excited kisses and pictures now that you’re [mostly] awake.

6 am

After you’re ready for the day, Lucifer takes over and hides you away in his study, selfishly holding you on his lap as you both drink coffee to get properly started. The drink is as bitter as ever, lips glossy with the remnants of it as you both chat quietly.

He’s your soft start to the day, the calm before the lovable chaos, and the first born makes sure to whisper sweet words alongside the comforting crackle of the fireplace. His hour of alone time is lazy and physical, because he can’t go more than a few seconds without running his gloved hands over you.

If anything, he’s unwilling to let you go, but Lucifer knows it would throw a wrench into the day’s layout and cause more fuss than necessary— plus, he has some things to do before tonight, so he’ll let you go with a slow kiss.

7 am

You’re handed over into Beelzebub’s capable hands, ensured to be served with a filling breakfast. He’s more than excited to show you what he, personally, cooked for you (even if there are just a few bites out of some of it). His cheeks are stuffed and a cute little smile is spread across his cheeks as he points to all the things on your plate.

When your plate is spotless, and your tummy is full but not too full, Beel guides you on a small little walk around the house corridors to make sure you digest properly. He’s still eating, of course, but his pleased hums are filling the air comfortably, making for a nice atmosphere.

Your little walk ends at the entrance hall, where he bids you goodbye with a cozy little hug, and a promise that you’ll love every second of your special day.

8 am

With a hand at the small of your back, Satan leads you out of the house and straight to a bookstore, wanting to keep a slow start to the long day. With it having just opened, only the two of you and a few others are inside, giving plenty of room to stroll and browse (and goof around).

He points out things you’ve had your eye on, new editions that weren’t there the previous visit, or special copies that were for limited time. The fourth born wants at least two books in your hand and a little collectible maybe- or a bookmark. Can’t have too many.

Once he’s spoiled you a little, and after you’ve both pet the local cats outside, he’s reluctantly handing you over with a lingering kiss to your hand, and a promise to read one of your books together soon.

9 am

Levi took his place, fingers lacing with yours, as he raved about a nearby anime store, gushing over the items he saw online that reminded him of you. By the time you get there, you know every section that’s going to be inside, yet it’s still exciting as you get pulled in.

You both get lost in the cool merch, having to wave your hands over the stands or jump in place to find each other occasionally, but end up staying side by side for the most part, whisper-shouting with big smiles.

Leaving the store, there is a pretty good sized bag on your and his arm, but he couldn’t be more thrilled about the lightness of his wallet since he got to spend money on you. He takes your bag, and your previous bag, in a promise to tuck them safely in your room, before giving you a location.

10 am

Waiting for you outside of a small little amusement park is Diavolo, who is positively beaming in anticipation. He’s already got two colorful wristbands in hand, which he latches around your wrist, and lets you do the same to him, before heading inside.

There are rides of all kinds and he lets you choose each one of them, pointing out ones he thinks you’ll like as you pass. You play a few booth games, getting a pretty flame salamander plushie as a prize, or totally failing and having a good laugh.

His only request is the photo booth, which you both do two different times, to get a silly border and a normal border. He pouts a little as he walks you out, assuring you’d see him later, before leading you a few blocks back into the townsquare.

11 am

For lunch, Simeon takes you off the paths and to a somewhat secluded gazebo, where a sweet little picnic was spread out; celestial realm dishes were rationed onto baby blue plates, two shiny cups on either side, with polished silverware.

The breeze is just right as the two of you eat, chatting and sitting closer than usual. Butterflies go by, and your eyes follow, as you both take turns pointing out different kinds you see and what flowers they seem to like better.

You take your time neatly packing everything up, fingers brushing and shoulders bumping, before he parts with a, dare you say it, angelic kiss to your forehead.

12 pm

Luke, naturally, is in charge of dessert, promising a light, yet satisfying, treat as he leads you down the sidewalk and into a cute looking bakery. He wants you to save room for the many things that were cooked and baked for your party, so he gets a little pile of oreo balls and other small things like that.

He holds nothing back as he tells you how happy he is to be spending your birthday with you, how he’s so very glad he met you, and anything else along those lines. He has to get them all out now, just in case he doesn’t get the chance to later!

The sweet angel is nearly bouncing on the balls of his feet as he leads you to your next location, waving excitedly as he promises to help make your party one of a kind.

1 pm

You’re actually given to Raphael next, who’s standing outside of a library with that barely perceptible smile on his face. He explains that he wanted somewhere quiet and cozy to wind down with you, suggesting that you shouldn’t do too much before the big celebration.

The very back corner of the library becomes yours for now, complete with a pretty view of swaying trees. The archangel almost shyly asks if you’d sit closer, loosely holding your hand as he begins reading to you.

He stalls a bit at the end, toying with your fingers, before telling you that he’ll see you later…but he’d like to do this again, sometime, okay?

2 pm

Hocus Pocus becomes your next destination, Solomon wasting no time in wrapping an arm around you as you browse the store. It’s slow and unhurried and drawn out as he talks about certain items, explaining a few origins, and listens to how your day’s been so far.

He dabbles a bit in glittery, washable, body paint, joyously painting random shapes onto your skin (even rolling his sleeves up so you could return the favor). The sorcerer makes it a point to paint his name along your wrist, taking a picture of it, before helping you wash it all off.

With a quick spell, he takes away any aching your feet might have, or any sort of headache, teasingly kissing at your jaw, before wagging his fingers as he teleports you somewhere new.

3 pm

A familiar shade of gold greets you as you're sent sprawling out onto the Castle’s floors. Barbatos chuckles and chides Solomon’s delivery as he helps you up, dusting you off gently. He makes sure you’re alright, boldly carrying you anyway, regardless of your answer.

A soothing, palate cleansing, tea spread is set out on the table as he settles you into the chair, pouring it as delicately as ever, before joining you. Instead of adjacent, he sits beside you, eagerly listening to anything you have to say.

He may or may not cheat time, prolonging his alone time with you just a little, unwilling to let you go now that you both finally have a minute together. He does have much to get done still, however, and with a [deep] kiss, he politely escorts you through one of his portals.

4 pm

In the heart of the forest, amongst a wave of flowers, lies Belphie. He’s not asleep, but it’s clear he’s just woken up, as he gestures for you to come lay down, offering a peaceful break.

Instead of star gazing like usual, he settles for cloud gazing, lazily pointing up and whispering descriptions here and there. It’s serene and quiet and, in his opinion, the perfect way to kill time.

While he doesn’t want to get up, he does at least hug you and nuzzle close in a send off, watching you go, before flopping back down.

5 pm

Mephisto is more than ready, and honored, to be the one escorting you to your big birthday bash. He takes you on the long path through the forest, deciding that if the others got time alone, surely he could have his own slot, too.

He keeps close, talking about daily matters, continuing to take small detours as you both make your way through the Devildom. His eyes don’t leave your face much at all as he basks in the moment.

With a grand, flourishing gesture, he officially announces your arrival, and presents you to your birthday party!

6 pm

Confetti, balloons, changing led lights, and glitter are everywhere. There’s a long table with many presents littering the surface, and another one next to it with small party snacks and desserts. Music plays faint in the background, not really needed over the fun and chaos that comes from the party games picked out, or from the karaoke.

When the time comes, a cake as astonishing as the previous ones is brought out and magically lit up prettily. Voices harmonize as they all sing you happy birthday , none being able to fight the smile on their faces, but…you couldn’t either.

And as you circled around the cake, blowing out each of your candles, you wished for what you did every year since coming here: to always be able to stay with your boys.

With cake and presents over, it delves into more chaos as they all argue over a) who you’re going home with tonight (and that it would be no fair if Mephisto took you, since he’d have you alone), and b) if you went home with a group, who’s room you would be staying in (Solomon taunted Mammon so much, you swore he’d blow a gasket).

Oh, yeah. You loved them to death.

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castielscaplan · 3 months ago

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In the Lonely Shadows (3/?)

Summary: Crowely's always there to help convince you everything's going to be okay after Dean leaves with Lisa & Ben. But when Dean returns, will everything remain the same as it once was?

Requested by my beloved wife @midnight-moonlight-and-mars sometime back in March 2024.

Request: I've got a Crowley request! It can be platonic or romantic. It takes place the year Sam is resurrected and dean is living with Lisa. The reader was close with the Winchesters but after the fight with Lucifer dean abandoned the reader to be with Lisa and cas never answers ( unrequited love maybe?) so the reader teams up with Crowley and becomes like a bounty hunter for him for Lucifer loyalists.

A/N: It's technically not Crowley x reader (yet) since she's pining for Dean. Oops, but I hope you enjoy this all the same, my love.

A/N #2: this wasn't meant to be a series AT ALL. But so many people have been wanting more parts of this. So i'm writing at least 4-5 parts possibly more if people want to be tagged in the future!

WC: 2.1K

Warnings: mentions of loneliness, and blood, the reader feels abandoned and unloved, crowley’s nice, mentions of loneliness, and blood, the reader feels abandoned and unloved, sassy & protective Crowley

thank you to me beta reader @mermaidxatxheart ilysm <3

Read on AO3!

[Part One] [Part Two]

The morning sun bled through the cheap motel blinds in fragile beams, casting soft, golden light across tangled sheets and the man asleep beside you.

Dean.

You watched the rise and fall of his chest, your arms folded tight across your ribs like they were the only thing keeping you from breaking again. There was something brutal in the silence that followed a storm—especially one you’d been surviving alone for over a year. And now he was here, in your bed, like time hadn’t carved a canyon between what was and what would never be again.

You slipped out of bed, careful not to wake him. The mattress groaned softly under your weight, but he only shifted, exhaling in a restless kind of way. The air was cold against your skin. Or maybe that was just the ache in your chest again.

You were halfway to pulling your jacket on when the low hum of sulfur filled the room. You didn’t jump. You were used to his entrances by now. You were used to his presence in your life.

“Not even a hello this time?” Crowley drawled from the far corner, standing partly in the shadows. He looked sharp as ever, his dark suit immaculate, but his eyes... his eyes were thunder.

You didn't turn.

“I figured you’d show,” you said softly, staring down at your worn boots. “Didn’t expect the judgment to come this early, though. I thought you’d wait a moment for it. Allow me the dignity of happiness.”

“Oh, sweetheart, it’s never too early for disappointment.” He stepped forward, tone clipped and cruel in the way only someone who cared too much could manage. “So. That’s it? He shows up at your door like a stray mutt, all sad eyes and leather, and you roll over like the good girl you used to be?”

You tensed. “Don’t.”

“No, I think I will.” Crowley’s voice dropped, now razor-sharp, eyes burning ever so slightly. “Because I was there, remember? Picking up the pieces. The pieces he left behind. The brokenness that you felt for months. Healing bits and pieces of you.”

You turned then, slowly, meeting his eyes. “You think I don’t remember that?”

“I think you’re pretending none of it mattered.”

You let out a bitter laugh. “You’re one to talk about pretending.”

Crowley’s face twitched—just a flicker of something raw. “That’s not fair.”

“No,” you whispered, “it isn’t. None of this is.”

He stepped closer. “You’re better than this, Y/N. Stronger. And I didn’t drag you out of the dirt just to watch him drag you back under. I can't watch him do that to you again.”

“Then don’t watch,” you snapped, voice low and shaking. “I never asked you to.”

He stilled at that.

But before either of you could react, your phone rung out. The shrill sound pierced the tension like a bullet. You grabbed it off the nightstand before it could wake Dean. The screen said: Bobby. He hasn't called in months, knowing Crowley was your babysitter. So for him to call now, it felt urgent.

Your finger quivered as you hit the green button to answer the call. "Bobby?"

“Y/N?” Bobby’s gravelly voice came through the speaker, rushed and strained. “You’re not gonna believe this. You sittin’ down?”

“What is it?” you asked warily, stepping further away, into the narrow motel kitchen, away from Dean and Crowley, although you could feel Crowley’s presence shift to face you as you moved..

“It’s Sam,” he said. “He’s back. Just… walked up to my damn door like he hadn’t been dead for months. Said he didn’t remember anything about the Cage. But he’s looking for you and Dean.”

You stopped breathing. Crowley’s head lifted sharply at the name.

Dean stirred in the bed behind you.

“I haven’t told him yet,” Bobby added. “Didn’t want to until I was sure. But he’s real. I checked. Hell if I know how or why, but your boy’s got his brother back.”

You gripped the edge of the counter like it was the only thing keeping you from collapsing. “Thanks for telling me first.”

“You alright, kid?”

You swallowed. “Yeah. I think I am.”

You hung up the phone before he could question you again.

Crowley didn’t speak for a long moment.

“Sam’s back?” he said eventually, voice quieter.

You nodded, licking your lips and beginning to chew on your bottom lip.

“Then it begins again,” he murmured. “The Winchesters—rising from ash like bloody phoenixes while the rest of us burn. Miracles walking, I suppose.”

Behind you, Dean sat up slowly, blinking against the slightly darkened room, eyes wary on Crowley’s presence. “What’s going on?”

You turned.

You couldn’t keep the tears from your voice. “It’s Sam. He’s back.”

Dean froze. “What?”

“Bobby just called. He’s alive, Dean. He’s back, and he’s okay.”

You saw the colour drain from Dean’s face. His whole body stilled, like he didn’t trust the hope clawing into his chest. “You’re serious?”

You nodded, voice thick. “Dead serious.”

Dean looked down, hands clenched. “I—I don’t understand. How? That's impossible. Y/N, you were there when he fell into the pit with Michael and Adam.”

“I don’t know,” you said softly. “But we’re not alone anymore.”

The silence after that was deafening. Crowley didn’t speak. Dean didn’t move. And you, caught between two men who’d both saved you in very different ways, stood in the quiet, heart split down the middle.

You walked to Dean, slowly, and sat beside him. He didn’t look at you. Just stared at the floor, jaw tight, eyes rimmed red.

“I should’ve been there,” he rasped. “For him. For you.”

You laid your hand on his knee. “Then be here now.”

Behind you, Crowley scoffed, soft but sharp. “Touching. Truly. Shall I knit you all a bloody reunion quilt?”

You turned to face him, eyes red but steady. “I told you, I’m not choosing. Not yet. But I need to see this through.”

Crowley’s jaw ticked. “And if he lets you fall again?”

You didn’t flinch. “Then I’ll know. And I’ll get back up. Like I always do.”

There was nothing left for him to say.

He disappeared without a word.

And this time, you let him go. You didn't chase after Crowley. You couldn't.

As the door to the motel room swung shut behind him, Crowley’s boots clicked against the creaky floor in deliberate rhythm. He hadn’t said a word to either of you when he disappeared, but his mind was racing, boiling with thoughts he didn’t know how to speak aloud.

He wasn’t used to feeling like this. This… uncertain.

You—Y/N—had always been a complication, but he had learned to manage you. You were sharp, witty, and undeniably strong, a fire that had burned away most of the demons he dealt with in his kingdom. Hell, you were the closest thing to a friend he had, and for a while, that had been enough. You were the exception. You were his exception.

But now?

Now, Dean Winchester was back, and the whole damn room had shifted on its axis. Crowley had seen it—the way you looked at him, the way your hand hovered near him, the warmth in your eyes that, until that moment, had been reserved for him. He could see the way you softened in his presence, how his mere return made the walls you’d built up crumble. It sickened him.

Because what did it mean for him? For them?

He shoved open the door to his private quarters—a space he had kept untouched for the last year. The stone walls were cold, and the fire he’d started in the hearth earlier still crackled in the corner. He didn’t care about the heat. It was all about the quiet. The silence.

The silence was easier to swallow.

Crowley was used to being in control. He had a kingdom, a reputation, and a steady hand on every situation. But this? This was different. You had always been a wildcard, but Dean’s return, Sam’s resurrection—it had tilted the balance. He’d watched how you’d looked at Dean. And it hurt, sharper than he’d like to admit.

It wasn’t that Crowley was jealous. He wouldn’t—couldn’t—admit that. But he couldn’t ignore the sharp pang in his chest when you let Dean in, when you all but pushed him away without a second thought. Did you think Crowley didn’t notice that? Didn’t feel that?

But that was the thing, wasn’t it?

Dean had always been the “good guy.” The hero. The man who could pull you back from the brink and make you believe in hope again, no matter how broken the world was. Crowley—Crowley was not that man. He wasn’t a hero. He didn’t care about redemption, and he certainly didn’t care about playing nice.

No, he was a King, and Kings didn’t beg.

But that was what it felt like now, wasn’t it?

It felt like he was begging.

He had spent months with you—quietly, almost possessively at times—and now he found himself trying to find his footing in this strange new world where you were no longer just his to look after. You were slipping through his fingers, and no matter how many sarcastic jabs he made, no matter how many times he reminded you that you were better off without Dean’s baggage, he knew.

He knew you were still in love with him.

Crowley shook his head. “What the hell is wrong with you, Crowley?” he muttered to himself as he paced the room. “You’ve had the best thing that’s ever happened to you right here, and you let her slip away.”

He stopped in front of the mirror, glaring at his own reflection. The King of Hell, the one who had manipulated, deceived, and controlled—yet here he was, like a fool, torn over a human. A woman who wasn’t even his to begin with.

And Dean?

Dean didn’t deserve you. Not after what he did to you. After what he put you through. But Crowley also knew—deep down—that it wasn’t about deserving. It was about how you felt. And right now, he knew what you felt. The vulnerability in your eyes when Dean walked in, the way you seemed to crumble under the weight of it all. You didn’t know it yet, but you were still tethered to him. To Dean.

And it ate at Crowley.

The faint sound of a door creaking open reached his ears. His eyes flicked to the hallway. He froze as he saw Dean standing there, a sheepish look on his face.

“You really think you can just come back and pretend like nothing happened?” Crowley’s voice was low, a warning. But his words were empty.

Dean smirked, but there was no real humour in it. “Look, I don’t need your lecture, Crowley.”

“You will listen to me,” Crowley hissed, his voice laced with venom. “You don’t get to waltz back into her life after you—after you abandoned her. After you left her to rot while I was the one patching her up. The one keeping her alive. The one making sure she didn’t go off the deep end. How do you think they made me feel? Do you know how broken you’d left her?”

Dean’s jaw tightened, and he stepped forward, his eyes burning with a mixture of regret and defensiveness. “I don’t need your approval, Crowley. I don’t need anyone’s, but I’m not letting you talk about her like that.”

Crowley laughed bitterly. “What do you think this is, Dean? A reunion? I spent months—MONTHS—getting her to trust me, getting her to survive, to breathe after you left. And now you think you can come waltzing back into her life, all charm and no remorse? You don’t get to play hero here. Not anymore.”

Dean was quiet for a moment before his voice came out low, regret dripping off every syllable. “I know what I did. I know it. But I’m not the same guy I was then. I wasn’t even the same guy when I left. I left because I didn’t know how to deal with the loss of Sam. You—You don’t get to judge me for that.”

“I’m not judging you, Dean.” Crowley’s words were clipped, and his eyes narrowed as he approached him. “I’m warning you. You have one chance, just one, to prove you’re not the same coward you were. Because if you hurt her again? If you walk away this time? I’ll be the one picking up the pieces again, and I won’t be so damn gentle about it.”

Dean didn’t back down, but the air between them was thick with unspoken truths and simmering tension.

Crowley turned to walk away, his voice cold. “Consider yourself warned.”

And just like that, he was gone, leaving Dean standing in the silence of the motel room. But in that silence, there was no peace. No comfort. Only the harsh reality that everything had changed—and for the first time in a long time, Crowley didn’t know how to move forward.

[PART FOUR]

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pact-in-progress · 1 month ago

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Mammon and Levi are complete opposites.

Levi struggles significantly with any changes to his environment let alone settle in a different one. Mammon on the other hand will adapt to most changes and his surroundings without a second thought especially as long as he’s with someone he’s loyal to, his dedication allows him to move forward without hesitation. In NB Mammon’s biggest concern wasn’t his own comfort but earning the title of 7 Rulers to prove him and his brothers can live amongst the devildom and so his brothers can and adjust better in the Devildom without backlash.

Mammon is impulsive and acts in the moment, mostly driven by emotion which makes him flexible but also reckless. Levi on the other hand over analyses everything and any minor change is a blow because he thrives on routine and any disruption to his world he’s built for himself throws him off balance.

Levi needs a hobby or passion to thrive on, something he can pour his soul into, while Mammon is carefree and doesn't really care for a fixed passion or hobby of the sort he’ll do whatever catches his attention in the moment as long as he’s having fun and enjoying himself.

Their sins are also more different than what people think. Greed is hoarding and wanting as much as you can while envy is to hate others for what more they possess.

It’s obvious that Levi has low self esteem and sees himself lesser than the rest of his brothers. So, it’s likely that Levi envies Mammon's carefree attitude and traits that naturally come to him as part of his character yet feels so out of reach for himself. Mammon also outranks him which could further reinforce his feeling of inadequacy. Imagine being Levi and having to deal with the very sin that embodies wanting and gaining more while yours is to feel bitter at others for what more they have in a situation like this.

Envy can stem from insecurity— which is Levi’s case— the feeling of inadequacy can lead to harsh self criticism and judgement, and over time the pain and mental strain becomes overwhelming so the mind redirects it outward. You start hating others for what more they have than you, as a self defence mechanism, a coping method yet it’ll never rid the feeling of inferiority, in fact, it’ll only fuel it more. A cycle of hate that only gets deeper and deeper.

Do you think that’s why Mammon allows Levi to insult him most of the time who arguably insults Mammon the most out his brothers? Because he understands struggle with sin so that’s why he doesn’t get too mad since it’s a way of Levi coping with his sin. Especially because ever since the fall Mammon’s been the one to care and look out for his brothers when Lucifer couldn’t. Interesting idea.

- - - - - - -

Btw I made a small drabble kinda based off it here

#I didn’t even know where I was going with this but I think I made a pretty good point at the end #anyways the dynamics between the brothers are interesting to look into I find so much more that wasn’t shown in game #I wish the brothers insulting mammon all the time wasn’t just comic relief it gets boring #obey me #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me one master to rule them all #obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #pip.rambles

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thatsodapopgirl · 5 months ago

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Lucifer Steals Vox’s Man

What if Alastor decided to give Vox a chance and the two started to go out. More like, “Fuck it I got nothing else going” attitude when he agreed.

They’ve been dating for years, and throughout those years Vox became to overbearing and clingy. Then came the accusations of cheating. Apparently the TV head assumed since Alastor didn’t want to go to third base (it was rare that Alastor even allowed second base) that he was cheating on him. However on a particular day, Alastor could smell Valentino’s scent on Vox but Alastor wasn’t angry about the betrayal, more hypocrisy of Vox to accuse him of being unfaithful.

And when Alastor saw Charlie on the news, he saw as a new venture. Also he wanted some space to think about his and Vox’s relationship.

Then Lucifer comes in to the picture! At first the two dislike each other but over time the two slowly acknowledged each other. Then they become drinking buddies and get closer. The two would know more each other than anyone else. Soon Alastor was all Lucifer can think about; like how he liked his coffee bitter, passion about radio, love for his mother and having the privilege of seeing Alastor’s genuine smile. To Lucifer’s horror, he had fallen in love with Alastor.

There was one problem, Alastor had a boyfriend. From what Alastor had said that it was complicated and the only reason he agreed was because he wanted to know what was so great about relationships. Lucifer could tell Alastor was leaving some details out, but just assumed the couple was going through a rough patch. It hurt, but Lucifer didn’t want to break a relationship. He decided it was best to be friends, until he met the TV Overlord.

It seemed normal on the surface, but Lucifer could smell bullshit. Whenever the TV overlord thought they were alone, he would start with the accusations of infidelity or that Alastor should stop wasting time with hotel and come back. Vox was entitled and seemed comfortable in disregarding Alastor’s boundaries. Yeah, no, Lucifer needed to do something.

He didn’t plan to have Alastor for himself, he was fine with being friends. But he wasn’t going to have his friend be in a shitty relationship. However, Alastor surprised him by admitting he shared the same feelings towards Lucifer.

And in a bar somewhere, Vox was at his 20th drink. Next to him was the First Man himself

Adam: He stole your bitch too huh

(Wrote this while still in bed)

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #radioapple #alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel lucifer #appleradio #hazbin vox

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star-centric · 1 year ago

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A random thought that came to me but I just loveeee Lucifer being so soft/clingy and trying to deny it.

Lucifer being the type to tell his brothers to leave you alone and give you your space after you return to the human realm, but still finds himself absentmindedly clicking on your text thread, thumb hovering over the send button with words already typed out. He scoffs and finally gets some sense into him, he doesn’t need to bother you (but instead he scrolls through the past messages, and can’t bring himself to delete those or the message he was about to send).

The house is quiet without you around, and even though his brothers complain about your absence still, he tells them to just deal with it. This couldn’t be your home forever, he knew that- but he still finds himself stopping in front of your door as he makes his nightly rounds. The silence gets to Lucifer too, and his fingers linger on the door knob for far too long. Your room is still the same as you left it, and it takes Lucifer a few moments of sitting on your bed to realize that he even stepped foot into the room. It takes him even longer to leave, wanting to keep taking in your scent as if you were still here. (He didn’t want to break out of the illusion just yet).

Lucifer gets lost in his thoughts more ever since you left, the memories of you consuming his mind by the day. He knew the moment was inevitable- that you would had had to return back to your home eventually. But by Diavolo, he didn’t think it would affect him this immensely.

His pride won’t let him admit out loud, but he misses you so much. He craves your touch, your presence, your lips, everything- he finds it hard to unwind from the day without knowing your current state. Even his aged bottle of Demonus does nothing to relax his nerves since you’re not here.

When Lord Diavolo needs to head to the human realm for a small errand, Lucifer wastes no time in offering to go in his place. He argues that Diavolo has more important tasks that take precedent than this, and his dear friend laughs it off, no doubt picking up on why he really wants to go. He would tease him more, but why waste anymore of his time? Diavolo wishes him safe travels, and Lucifer proceeds to ignore his and Barbatos knowing smirks.

It doesn’t take long for Lucifer to reach his destination and take care of the errand. He’s trying to convince himself that he’s just taking a small break before returning back to his work in the Devildom, taking in the fresh air and sun at a small cafe. The black coffee he’s sipping on is nowhere near the bitterness he’s used to from the hell coffee that you make him, but it would make due.

He’s almost done when he hears his name called, and turns around to see you, frozen and mouth agape. He doesn’t complain when you come barreling towards him, shock wearing off as you grin ear to ear practically jumping onto him-

He doesn’t complain, instead taking you in and holding you tight, not even hiding his smile.

It’s no secret that Lucifer, along with everyone else, wants you back home. He knows that eventually he’ll get back to work, but is it so wrong to make sure that you’re safe with his own eyes?

He keeps trying to convince himself of that being the only reason why he’s sharing this moment with you, but after you pepper him with kisses, even he can’t believe his own lies.

Lucifer really does miss you.

#writings.txts #obeyme.txts #myloves.txts #obey me x gn!reader #obey me x reader #obey me x gn!mc #obey me x gender neutral reader #obey me lucifer x you #obey me lucifer x reader #lucifer x reader

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beels-burger-babe · 11 days ago

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What Hatred Sounds Like - Pt. 1

**Alright folks we are so back! I am heavily inspired by K-Pop Demon Hunters (If you haven't watched GO WATCH IT! It is absolutely incredible), along with a sprinkling of some research on ancient Japan and came up with this little premise for a series. Hoping that it will get everything flowing for me to go back to my other series as well. Love you guys and I hope you'll like this little comeback series**

Summary: MC was bored and honestly just trying to get out of their never ending student council duties when they're drawn in by strange ... melody. Curiosity has always been their strong suit, but maybe there are some things that are better left unknown.

Ft. Teen MC

In the Devildom, life thrived in the shadows. There was no sun. No holy light to bless them with its warmth and kiss their skin good morning. Only bitter cold and darkness that sank its fangs into each of its citizens every chance that it got.

MC had long grown accustom to it, come to enjoy it even. It was nice not having to worry about sun burn or being blinded by the sun. The artificial ways that the demons had come up with to illuminate their kingdom of pitch were beautiful and elaborate; from wrought iron streetlights, to oil lamps that possessed a violet flame. it was all so whimsical and gothically enchanting that MC could hardly bring themself to look away.

Of course, they were human, and still required the sun. So when they needed it, they could always skip up back to the human world for their biannual visit to Earth before returning back to place they now thought of as home.

But it also meant that on nights such as this, when they knew Lucifer was probably turning red with frustration of their absence from yet another dreadful student council meeting, but they quite honestly didn't care. Three years in the Devildom had really made them grow bored of the daily ins and outs of the House of Lamentation, and they were on the search for something new, something exciting! Something-

A small plucking sound, like a droplet of water gently falling into a still pond, hit their ears and they stilled.

In the darkness, it was almost as if sound was amplified, echoing through their ears as another chord was plucked and then another, a faint trinkle of a strum, and yet another. The melody continued, and MC did not even try to stop their feet from being pulled in by it's simple beauty.

Their feet clicked against the wet pavement, and they muttered a small illuminating spell to themself as they entered. Iridescent light reflected from their palms off the alleyway walls.

It was only then they saw it ... or her, they supposed.

A lanky figure curled up in the far back corner, her back against the wall. Long ebony hair that faded into shiny gold as it got closer to the ends, as straight and silky as ribbon, covered almost her entirety from view, What could be seen was delicate hands with long, bony fingers, capped with sharp, elaborately embossed, golden points. From beneath the veil of hair, a rectangular rod with three pegs stuck out. Each black peg was wrapped tightly with golden wire that ran down the length of the rod to a square base.

A shamisen, MC recognized immediately, noting the flat, yellowed bachi sitting in the person's other hand, which she used to continue to strum her somber melody.

Each pang and twing rang sharply through their very soul, as if it was crying out to them and them alone. They would have to be utterly heartless to walk away.

"Excuse me?" MC called over.

The music stopped in an instant, and with a heart-dropping crack the person's head turned to face them.

It was not a face that revealed itself to them, but a mask. They had seen crow masks before; people wore them to festivals and they filled every tourists shop back home. But they had never seen one like this.

Most of the crow masks they had seen were black. Elegantly painted with perfect, seamless strokes that fluidly decorated the smooth wood. This was not that.

The base was bone white and it had golden designs on it that seemed more jagged and sharp than soft. The mask had a long pointed beak that covered the musician's entire face with angular slits for the eyes where dim balls of golden light reflected in the center. It possessed a playful aura that did not match the woman's eerie presence at all. MC could see no string or tassels holding the mask into place, as if it was fixed there by sheer will.

Aside from the mask, the person was dressed in a simple yukata. It had no patterns and was black with the exception of the white obi tied around her waist. The bottom of the yukata was torn and near transparent along its hem and cuffs.

MC was nearly positive that they were looking at a ghost, and yet they had never seen a ghost quite like this. Certainly not one that was masked.

MC swallowed thickly. It had been sometime since anything had caused them to be so shaken within the Devildom. They took a deep breath and reminded themself that they were 16 now, and no longer the scared 13 year old that had first entered into this place. They were strong. The shadows were scared of them, not the other way around.

They held up their chin and looked straight into the light pouring out of the eye slits. "I like your song. It sounds really nice. Where did you learn to play like that?"

No voice came from beneath the creepy mask, as a faint breeze from the streets lightly blew the woman's hair behind her.

Rude. Actually. If you asked MC. But they supposed it was also rude to interrupt someone during their jam session, so really that was on them. "Sorry. Are you not in the mood for talking? I really didn't mean to bother you. I just heard you playing and couldn't help but check come check out. I'm MC. What's your name?"

Again nothing. Not even a breath.

At this point, MC was beginning to feel awkward. I mean, most people at least had some kind of reaction to hearing their name at this point! Who the hell did this lady think she was?!

MC huffed, unable to help a pout from forming on their face as they raised their hands up in defeat. "Fine! Fine! I'll leave ya alone. Your loss. Who would want to know about some creepy, weirdo anyway?"

Them. They did. They so very much did.

It was all they could think about. They zoned out during class, and barely listened to the boys gossip during meals. They were too focused on what this strange new mystery of theirs was! They needed to know!

They tried doing research on ghosts, crows, hell even sirens! But nothing seemed to quite match whatever this person was! All they knew was that it had to be a person. Even without words or proper eyes, there was this air of deep, concentrated loss and shame that radiated off of her. Ever since coming to the Devildom, there hadn't been a single mystery that MC wasn't able to solve, and they refused to let that track record become tarnished now!

So MC did what MC does best - sneak out without permission to sleuth around the city. Honestly, you would think the brother's would've invested in better security by now.

Gloom, as they had taken to calling the unknown creature, wasn't in the original alleyway where they had initially found her. It appeared the ghostly woman was nomadic and would take camp in places with low lighting and no people around. MC was only able to find her over and over again because they knew this kingdom like the back of their hand.

They would go out and find her every night, and every night Gloom would stare at them through the eyes of her mask, hands stilling on her shamisen. She never spoke. The most MC had ever heard from her is a soft, yet haunting hum that she would occasionally emanate before noticing MC's presence.

MC grew braver with each visit. Where they initially kept their distance, they eventually brought themself to come closer and lean against the wall beside her as they asked her their many questions. Who are you? What are you? Where di you get a shamisen? What's with the mask? Is it haunted? Are you haunted?

But still, Gloom never answered. They got a groan of annoyance once, but that seemed to be the closest they could get.

Still, they could tell that she warming up to them. Sometimes she would lean closer to them while they were telling a story. Or her hand would twitch and almost reach out to them while they vented. Almost. There were all these little things that MC knew meant they were getting through to her.

They never gave up. In a way, it was almost nice to have someone else besides the brother's that they could talk to for once. With Gloom not doing any of the talking, she was subjected to do all of the listening, and boy did MC have a lot to share.

The brothers began to take notice of MC's disappearances. They tried to track them or ask them where they had gone, but MC was determined to keep this little secret. It was nice to have something in the Devildom that was entirely theirs for once.

Months passed, and their visits only became more frequent until one day, MC did not come empty handed.

"Here!" They chirped as they plopped down beside the woman, holding out a small envelope. She hesitated it before plucking it between two fingers and looking curiously at the cursively written Gloom on the front. "Dia and the others are throwing this huge ball to celebrate my fourth year here in the Devildom! It'll be super fancy and in the palace with all kinds of food and dancing and-" Gloom lifted her instrument a little, and MC chuckled. "Yes! And music! You should totally come. I know ya don't like crowds, but it'll be really fun." They explained with a smile.

Gloom paused, the lights blinking behind her mask as she stared down at the envelope before looking to MC in confusion.

They shrugged as they rose back up to their feet. "Come or don't come. It doesn't make a difference to me, but ..." they feel their cheeks burn a little as they look down. "I haven't had someone just listen to me without tryin' to shove their own ideas into my head in a while and ... I dunno. I guess I enjoy hanging out with you."

The lights blinked again behind the mask.

MC graons. "Look. The ball is next week. I'll see you then!"

MC didn't see it, having already left, but as she looked down at the envelope, the lights behind Gloom's mask squinted with an unseen smile as an unspoken promise laid on her silent tongue. She joyfully began to pluck the strings of her shamisen as the breeze dance around her.

Across the city, oblivious to what is to come, Mammon feels a shiver run down his spine. He sits up from his bed and looks out his open window as a whisper of a melody flows around him like an old memory. His breath hitches.

He slams the window shut without hesitation.

***And there we have it! Part one and my official return to this fandom! This has been a lot of fun, and I cannot wait to continue this story with you all! I hope you all enjoy "Gloom" and look forward to the upcoming ball in the next chapter! See you all then! I love you all ❤️ -B***

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talesfromawannabewriter · 4 days ago

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Scylla

@things-arent-what-they-seem66

Warning ⚠️: Murder, suicide

Adam eyes were filled with terror as he could hear his heart pounding in his ears as his breath grew shallow.

Horror filled his senses as he stared down at the blood soaked grass where a body lay unmoving.

He couldn’t move, he couldn’t speak, he could only stare down at Lilith as blood continued to ooze from her head.

When Adam finally did manage to make a part of his body move it was his head. But it was to stare down at the blood covered rock in his hands.

The appendages were also red with what he had just committed In fact his entire frame had some splashes of red.

Immediately he dropped the rock and allowed it to roll away as he wondered how did this happen.

Well, it went a little like this.

It had been some time since Lilith had left with Lucifer. Leaving behind Adam in the process and breaking his heart in the process.

The angels had created Eve not that long ago and explained to him that she was his new wife. Which he would begin humanity with.

But he didn’t want a new wife. He didn’t want his old wife either. He just wanted his angel back.

But then as if his prayers had been answered Lucifer returned……with Lilith in tow.

And he hadn’t come for him.

Adam hadn’t even known that Lucifer was in the garden until he came across Lilith. Or rather she came to him.

She told him all about how she had the angel wrapped around his finger, how he made love to her each and every night while screaming only her name.

She even explicitly told him all the lies she made to get Lucifer to her side. And now she had persuaded him to come back to save his new wife with the gift of free will.

She had mocked him and his love for Lucifer. She pushed him and pushed him till he was on the edge of breaking.

Then came the final shove.

Lilith: The only person that could ever love you Adam is yourself because you’re not worth love just as your not worth anything else.

She smirked closing in on him.

Lilith: Lucifer certainly thought so.

That had done it.

For so long he had taken her abuse and shoved down his own angst down his throat because he was told that he was meant to protect her and love her.

For she was his wife.

Well, she wasn’t his wife anymore and he certainly wasn’t her husband.

He grabbed the closest thing that was nearby and ran towards her with it. From there it was a blur of screaming and blood flying.

Then Lilith’s screams stopped and Adam finally got off of her. But never anticipated that this would be the outcome.

He just wanted her to be quiet.

Now as Adam stood there guilt eating away at him as waited, hoped, for Lilith to get up again.

But she didn’t.

For although Adam didn’t know the word she was dead.

And he killed her.

Suddenly a familiar voice rang out through the forest.

Lucifer: Lilith?

Adam’s eyes widened, that was Lucifer! He looked down at Lilith and then at himself. He couldn’t face his angel, not like this, not after what he had done.

Quickly he made himself run as fast as he could. Far away from the body and Lucifer. He ran until he could no longer heard the angel’s voice.

When he collapsed from exhaustion, clutching onto his chest he came across a lake. One that coincidentally was his favorite to swim in.

He loved to swim, it was possibly one of his favorite activities. He and Lucifer often play together in the water.

Well, more like the angel would sit by the bank as Adam splashed him. The once sweet memory turned bitter as a horrid realization washed over him.

Lucifer would never forgive him when he found out.

What he had done was beyond forgiveness. He had taken another’s life, something he didn’t even know was possible.

He took the life of the woman Lucifer loved and when his angel figured out it was his fault, he would forever hate him.

Not to mention the angels, they would never look at him the same. He couldn’t even begin to imagine what Sera would think when she found out.

Would she hate him as well?

The thought alone was enough to make break down in sobs as he released years of pain and suffering.

He had to do something, he had to make things right! But how can a person do that when they messed up past the point of healing?

Adam cried out as he threw a random pebble where he sat into the lake. As he watched it sink an idea came to him.

He knew what he could do to fix this. If a life can be taken and it had then he saw no reason as to another one can’t be used to pay for the crime that has been committed.

His life.

He didn’t even think twice about it as he already grabbed the largest rock that he could hold and one that would weigh him down.

He carried it with him as he walked into the lake and held onto it even as he began to sink to the bottom.

Even as he felt the air leave his body as his lungs filled with water.

When he finally reached the bottom he knew he didn’t have much time left. He could feel himself grow weaker the more seconds that passed. Until finally at long last he took one last look up to where the surface was and closed his eyes.

One thought remaining as he drifted off into a dark abyss.

I’m sorry

#adamsapple #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel lucifer #Sin of envy au #eden adam #Eden Lilith #storyline #RP

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clumsydolly · 13 days ago

Note

Hello, I recently found you, but I have been loving everything you have written! I was wondering if you could do Obey Me (+ datables too) x Leona Kingscholar! Reader, and maybe mention the sibling issues along with the inferiority complex. I’m sorry if it’s too much, feel free to ignore this!

Obey me! x Leona Kingscholar!Reader

Warnings!⚠️: Neglect, Feelings of insignificance, violence, blood, possible parental abuse. If there is anything I missed please let me know!

art credits to kura_usagi217 on twitter. Got the picture from himasagod

Thank you so much for the sweet words, love! I'm so happy people appreciate my work!

Lucifer

Lucifer noticed you the moment you walked into RAD not because you were loud or flashy, but because you weren’t.

There was something about the way you carried yourself. Regal without trying. Every movement slow, deliberate, like the world didn’t deserve your urgency. You didn’t talk unless you had something worth saying, and when you did speak? You could cleave through a room like a sword to the ego.

And Lucifer? Lucifer hated that he noticed.

Because you weren’t trying. You weren’t bending over backward to impress him like most of the student body. You weren’t one of those overeager exchange students begging for approval or praise. You strolled through the halls like a lion half-asleep, maybe, but still the apex predator in every room.

And when he finally spoke to you, you yawned in his face.

“Didn’t realize the great Lucifer was giving lectures today. I’d have brought a pillow.”

Lucifer’s eye twitched. He gave you detention on the spot.

You didn’t go.

He gave you another.

You still didn’t go.

By the third, he marched to your dorm himself only to find you lazily doing a puzzle that recreated ancient Diavolo-era battle formations by memory.

“You’re not unintelligent.”

“Thanks, I think.”

“Then why act like this?”

“Why not?”

He hated that you turned his questions around like that. Hated that you didn't fear him, not even a little. Most of all, he hated how much you reminded him of himself not the pristine, polished version he wore like armor now, but the raw, bitter version. The Lucifer who still wanted to scream I mattered too in a Heaven that only cared about Michael.

Over time, he started seeing it. The weight behind your smirk. The exhaustion behind every lazy sigh. The way your eyes narrowed just slightly when someone called you “second-best” or “surprisingly capable” like you weren’t already a storm waiting to happen.

He saw the way you flinched barely when someone mentioned Diavolo’s brilliance or the House of Lords your sibling had attended or how proud your family must be of you, clearly doing so well for yourself here at RAD.

And yet no matter how many times people overlooked you, compared you, spoke of you like you were someone else's shadow you never broke.

You just grinned. Tilted your head. And made sure they regretted it later.

Lucifer began to respect that.

Not openly, of course. That wasn’t his way.

But he started assigning you more difficult tasks subtly. He made you his liaison for particularly irritating noble houses, watched how you dismantled their arrogance with one well-timed smirk and a passive-aggressive cup of tea.

You didn’t brag. You didn’t preen. You just got results.

You weren’t the golden heir. You were the disaster plan. The unspoken “just in case” they called on when things went wrong and you always fixed them, like it was no big deal.

Lucifer understood exactly how much strength that took.

He caught you one night after a council meeting where Diavolo, with perfect warmth, had praised your instincts but still called you by the wrong last name. You said nothing. Just smiled, bowed, and left early.

Lucifer found you alone in the gardens afterward, sprawled across a bench with your eyes shut, jaw clenched, tail twitching.

“You handled yourself well,” he said.

“Yeah?” you muttered. “Guess I’m good at pretending I don’t care.”

He said nothing at first. Then quietly:

“You are not lesser for being second.”

You opened one eye. “Tell that to the guy who got the throne. And the respect. And the family name.”

“Tell that to the brother who took the fall for defiance and got eternal punishment in return.”

You looked at him then, really looked at him. And for the first time, you didn’t try to act cooler than you felt. You just… were.

Lucifer exhaled. The air between you grew soft, heavy, real.

“You don’t have to prove anything to anyone,” he said.

You grinned. “Then why do I feel like I still do?”

“Because you’re still measuring yourself by their rules.”

“…Damn. That was almost deep, old man.”

Lucifer gave you a look, but he didn’t leave.

Instead, he sat beside you. Not to lecture. Not to scold. Just to exist. To acknowledge that being second didn’t make you less dangerous, less capable, less worthy.

If anything, it made you more.

He started inviting you to war councils. Debates. Assignments where your mind, not just your magic, was valued. And not once did he call you lazy again.

He knew better.

----

Bonus

You challenged Diavolo to a game of chess in front of the whole council. You won. Lucifer didn’t stop you. He smiled.

Lucifer once caught you napping in the RAD library on a pile of banned books. He left you a better pillow and told everyone else to mind their business.

Mammon

Mammon didn’t get you at first.

Scratch that, he thought he got you. First time he saw you, all cool confidence and lazy smirks, lounging in RAD’s hallway like you owned the place? He assumed you were just another hotshot with an attitude problem. A stuck-up noble brat pretending not to care about anything.

So naturally, he hated you.

Not actually, not in the “let’s throw hands” way, but in that Mammon-specific, “I’m irrationally jealous and masking it poorly” kind of way. He couldn’t help it. You just had this air about you. Like no matter what was going on, you were already two steps ahead, completely unbothered, probably planning a nap.

And he hated that you pulled it off.

“Oi, you ever gonna do something other than yawn through life?” he snapped once during a group mission. “Some of us are tryin’ not to get eaten out here!”

You cracked one eye open from your perch on a ruined pillar and lazily tossed a spell that knocked out three enemies in one go.

“I am doing something. I’m making sure you don’t die.”

Mammon’s jaw clicked shut. He didn’t say thank you. You didn’t ask for it.

He told himself he didn’t care. You were smug. Cocky. Thought you were better than him.

But then... you never rubbed it in.

You never tried to outshine him. Never laughed when he messed up. Never acted like you were special even when it was obvious you were.

And that was weird. Suspicious, even. Mammon had known plenty of people who looked down on him, especially other second-borns. Especially ones with power. But you didn’t look down on him.

You looked at him like you understood.

And that freaked him out way more than the condescending stuff ever did.

The turning point came when Lucifer chewed him out in front of the entire student body for blowing a mission.

Mammon, head bowed, trying to pretend the words didn’t hurt. Trying not to flinch when someone snickered. Trying not to shout back even though he wanted to, because shouting made it worse, and Lucifer never listened anyway.

And then you just… walked up. Right past the crowd. Right past Lucifer. Right up to Mammon. Calm, slow, zero drama. You pulled out a chocolate bar, handed it to him, and said:

“Next time, don’t skip the perimeter sweep. Rookie mistake.”

Lucifer glared. Mammon blinked.

“What?”

“You’re better than that. Thought you’d know by now.”

And then you walked off like it was nothing.

Mammon didn’t touch that chocolate bar for a whole day. He just kept looking at it like it might explode or disappear.

You weren’t pitying him.

You were… expecting more from him.

And not in the way Lucifer did, with disappointment. You actually thought he could be better. That he already was.

Which meant that when you said something like that… it kinda mattered.

A lot.

So he started watching you.

Realized real fast that you weren’t nearly as lazy as you pretended to be. You just had this whole… “minimum visible effort” thing going on. But behind the scenes? You were sharp. You caught things no one else noticed. You finished your assignments perfectly, if barely on time. And when no one was looking, you trained harder than anyone. You just didn’t want people knowing how much you cared.

He saw the way your tail twitched when people mentioned your brother. The way your jaw clenched when someone praised you by comparing you to someone else. The way you brushed it all off with a laugh like it didn’t matter.

Except… it did.

And Mammon got it.

Hell, he lived it.

So one day, when you dragged yourself back to the House of Lamentation after some political event with Diavolo—eyes shadowed, tie loose, clearly somewhere between angry and resigned, he didn’t say anything.

He just handed you a drink, scooted over on the couch, and turned on a movie.

Halfway through, he tossed out, casual as anything:

“Y’know... bein’ second born sucks.”

You didn’t answer right away. Then:

“Tell me about it.”

And somehow that turned into talking. Not big, dramatic confessions, just muttered complaints. Shared glances. A quiet, mutual understanding of how much it sucked to always be the “almost.”

Mammon started noticing you dropping quiet comments about his skills in passing. Not praise, nothing embarrassing, but the kind of remarks that let him know you saw him. That he was worth seeing.

So he returned the favor.

Started making sure other demons knew you weren’t just “the other one” from your family. Started betting on you in training matches. Started watching your back in battles, not because he thought you needed help, but because you deserved backup.

And one day, during a particularly chaotic RAD event where both of you had to go undercover as rich noble heirs, you turned to him in full glam, eyes sharp, grin lazy, and said:

“Guess we’re the disappointment duo, huh?”

Mammon scoffed, adjusting his ridiculous collar.

“Yeah. But we’re hot, smart, and still here. So... screw everyone else.”

“Amen.”

-----

Bonus

You and Mammon once got banned from a nobles-only tea party for being “too casual.” You left a gift basket of crumbling scones and slime bombs on the host’s doorstep. Neither of you confessed.

He calls you “Copycat” and you call him “Backup Plan.” Neither of you mean it. Both of you refuse to stop.

Mammon once punched a demon who insulted you. You knocked the guy out before the punch landed. Mammon’s still mad you stole the glory.

Levithan

At first glance, you and Levi were nothing alike.

He was all hunched shoulders and self-deprecating stammers, eyes glued to a screen. You were sprawled across the RAD courtyard like it was your kingdom, radiating bored royalty energy, tail flicking with irritation every time someone dared to speak too loudly.

Levi thought you were cool. In the “definitely-a-main-character” way that made him feel even more like a sidekick.

“Why would someone like that ever talk to someone like me?” he muttered to himself one day, watching from the shadows of the library stacks as you verbally dismantled a noble demon for misquoting historical literature.

He did not expect you to call him out that same afternoon.

“Hey, TSL guy. You’ve been staring at me since breakfast. What’s your deal?”

Levi promptly short-circuited.

“I-I wasn’t staring! I mean, I was, but not in a weird way! Not that I think you’re weird—I mean, I don’t, but—uh—sorry?!”

You just blinked at him. Then smirked.

“Relax. I don’t bite unless someone starts something. You’re in my alchemy class, right?”

That was the beginning of what Levi later described (in his journal) as the “Most Confusing and Possibly Dangerous Friendship Quest Ever.”

Because you were confusing. You never raised your voice. You didn’t try to “fix” him. You just showed up, sometimes at the library, sometimes at the gaming lounge, sometimes in the hallway, tossing out comments like:

“I heard you coded a RAD Discord bot. That's impressive.”

Or:

“If I have to sit through another ‘family legacy’ meeting, I’m dragging you with me. Misery loves company.”

It took weeks, months even, before Levi realized you weren’t just humoring him. You wanted to be around him.

That didn’t mean you liked everyone.

You brushed off flattery from others like it bored you. You got into heated debates with professors who tried to compare you to your older sibling. You had a temper, sure, but it wasn’t flashy. It simmered. You wielded sarcasm like a sword, especially when someone hinted you should be “more like your brother.”

And Levi got it. Oh, he got it.

Because when you finally admitted, in a low, offhand comment during a co-op raid, that your whole life you’d been “second best,” Levi practically dropped his controller.

“Wait—you too?”

You blinked at him, then offered the smallest, sharpest smile.

“Let me guess. They call you a loser and expect you to stay in your brother’s shadow?”

“YES. Thank you!”

That night, you both stayed up way too late swapping “Middle Child Misery” stories. Levi talked about Lucifer. You talked about your older brother the golden child, the crown prince of “why can’t you be more like him?”

Levi started looking at you differently after that.

Not like you were too cool to talk to him.

But like you were someone who got it.

And that was dangerous territory.

Because now he couldn’t stop thinking about how your tail twitched when you were irritated. How you leaned just a little too close when asking for help. How you’d fall asleep in the gaming lounge with your head tilted back, completely unbothered like the whole world could burn and you’d still get your nap in.

He started doing stupid things. Like programming a game mod where your avatar wore your RAD uniform and insulted NPCs in your exact tone. Or baking you themed cookies based on that dumb fantasy series you pretended not to like.

And okay, maybe he stared at your profile picture on Devilgram for way too long.

Not because he liked you or anything.

He just admired your confidence.

Your sarcasm.

Your hair.

…Shut up.

One day, during a student council meeting (that neither of you were technically supposed to be in), Diavolo asked everyone to describe their “greatest strength.”

You, in peak “please don’t make me participate” fashion, slouched in your chair and muttered:

“Being slightly less disappointing than expected.”

Levi choked on his drink.

Everyone stared.

You just shrugged.

Levi wanted to high-five you so bad.

Afterward, when you bumped into him at the vending machines, he didn’t hesitate.

“You know that’s not true, right?”

You raised an eyebrow. “What’s not true?”

“That you’re disappointing.”

You paused, expression unreadable. Then:

“I could say the same to you.”

For once, Levi didn’t turn into a tomato. He just smiled. Small. Real.

“Maybe we’re both bad at seeing what we’re good at.”

“Speak for yourself, Levi. I’m great at napping and annoying nobles.”

“I meant… emotionally.”

“Gross.”

Still. You didn’t deny it.

----

Bonus Buffoonery

You beat Levi at Mario Kart exactly once and he called it “a betrayal of trust.”

He once caught you rereading his favorite manga. You said it was “for research.” You were on volume six by the next day.

You custom-painted his gaming headset with your insignia. He cried. You told everyone he had allergies.

Satan

From the moment Satan met you, he swore he heard theme music.

You strolled into RAD late on your first day, tail swaying, eyes lidded with boredom, and proceeded to insult the entire student body by existing with exactly zero effort while still looking five times more put-together than any of them.

And then you had the nerve to yawn during his carefully prepared presentation on demon literature preservation.

“No offense, Blondie, but if I wanted to listen to someone drone on about dusty books, I’d go talk to my brother.”

Satan narrowed his eyes. “That was offensive.”

You grinned like it was a compliment.

He hated you. He definitely hated you.

Which is why he couldn’t stop thinking about you.

Not in a “what are they doing, I want to be around them” way.

In a “why does their laziness make me want to scream and also why is that kind of hot” way.

You were chaos in silk gloves. You were intelligence hidden behind languid indifference. You were all pride and bite and buried resentment wrapped in a drawl that made everything sound like a challenge. And Satan? Satan loved a challenge.

Especially one that read obscure magical theory texts for fun, but pretended to sleep through class. Or who helped him trap a demon noble in a logic corner so twisted it took three professors to untangle. You didn’t do it for credit. You did it because it was fun.

“That guy said I was just here to fill a diversity quota. Couldn’t let him walk away after that.”

“So you destroyed his entire academic career?”

“Only temporarily. He’ll recover. Probably.”

Satan found himself torn between wanting to spar with you daily and wanting to see what it would take to make you drop the act.

Because he could tell. He’d seen it too many times in himself: the way you rolled your eyes at authority but secretly memorized every exam question. How you blew off club meetings but showed up to tutor another struggling student without ever taking credit. How you scoffed at ambition and then proceeded to outperform almost every demon in your year.

You had an older sibling, didn’t you?

It clicked during one of your arguments.

“You think you know everything, don’t you?” Satan had snapped.

“No,” you shot back, eyes sharp for once. “That’s his job.”

He didn’t press. But he remembered.

And he started noticing other things, too.

Like how you always picked the farthest seat from Lucifer in group meetings. How you’d tense whenever someone brought up legacies or family trees. How you joked about being “the backup plan” with a grin that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

He understood that. More than you knew.

So when he saw you in the library one afternoon, surrounded by books but not reading, just... staring, he sat beside you.

Didn’t say a word.

Just... sat.

Eventually, you spoke.

“You think it’s pathetic?”

He blinked. “What?”

“Trying to prove you’re worth something when you know you’re always going to come second.”

He was quiet for a moment. Then:

“I think it’s human. And demon. And everyone in between.”

“Philosophical,” you muttered.

“Honest,” he corrected.

And then you sighed, muttered something about “emotions are gross,” and shoved a book at him. “Here. Help me translate this before I change my mind and burn it.”

It became a thing after that. Late-night study sessions. Banter disguised as therapy. You bickering about how tea should be brewed while he wordlessly refilled your cup exactly how you liked it. Him ranting about his brothers while you made sarcastic commentary that somehow always hit exactly where it hurt (and helped).

He started bringing you pastries from Madam Scream’s after exams.

You started falling asleep in the library more often and waking up with a blanket over your shoulders and Satan’s coat nearby.

Neither of you talked about it.

That would ruin everything.

Because admitting that you cared meant vulnerability. And vulnerability meant weakness. And weakness

Well, weakness was what your older brothers always said you’d never be allowed to show.

But Satan didn’t want you to change. He just wanted you to let him stay.

Even if you only ever admitted it through arguments and eye rolls.

----

Bonus Bookish Shenanigans:

He caught you reorganizing the library’s cursed section out of boredom. You claimed it was for “aesthetic purposes.” He covered for you when one of the books tried to hex a teacher.

You “accidentally” slipped a love poem into his stack of notes. He turned bright red and spent a week analyzing it like it was a cursed grimoire. You never told him it was meant for him. You didn’t have to.

One time, when a demon noble made a snide comment about your academic standing, Satan calmly recited your GPA, your published essays, and your winning score on the RAD magical aptitude test. Loudly. In front of the entire hall.

“Just in case anyone forgot who’s actually at the top.”

“Simp,” you muttered under your breath.

“Librarian simp,” he corrected.

Asmodeus

Asmodeus knew beauty when he saw it, physical, emotional, the kind that sparkled when people finally let themselves be loved. He could spot it through any disguise.

So the moment you waltzed into the House of Lamentation looking like you just rolled out of bed after wrestling a lion and still somehow made it look good, Asmo’s interest was piqued.

You didn’t try. That’s what got him. Everyone tried with him, tried to impress, to seduce, to mirror his vibe. But not you.

“So, are you always this overdressed?”

“Only when I expect an audience.”

Cue: the tiniest flick of your ear, the cocked eyebrow, the lazy smirk that said “I’ve seen prettier, try harder.” Oh, he was hooked.

At first, he flirted like always, throwing compliments like confetti, touching your arm with practiced elegance, winking until his eye practically had its own cardio routine. You met it all with flat looks and muttered sarcasm.

“Aw, kitten, don’t pretend you’re not charmed.”

“I’m not pretending.”

Most people blushed. You scoffed.

And that only made him want to know more.

There was something feline about you, not just the ears and tail, but the way you moved, always relaxed but hyper-aware. You’d lean on walls with half-lidded eyes, pretending you weren’t paying attention, then deliver a one-liner that cut through three layers of someone’s ego like butter.

But it wasn’t just that.

It was the sadness.

Not the loud kind. The quiet kind. The kind people carry like a second skin.

He saw it when someone mentioned family hierarchies. The way your shoulders tensed ever so slightly. Or when Lucifer praised your performance in a mission and you waved it off with a grunt, as if succeeding was a fluke and not the result of years of survival instincts and quiet brilliance.

He could relate. People expected him to sparkle on command, to be perfect, to be happy and enough for everyone. He knew what it felt like to be seen and still not be understood.

So he tried something different.

He didn’t flirt. He talked.

At first, it was little things. Asking about your skincare (which was practically nonexistent, you claimed your good looks were “genetic aggression”). Inviting you to group events and then pretending not to notice when you skipped but always keeping a seat open anyway.

He brought you mango juice one day during lunch. Didn’t say a word, just placed it on the table. You stared at it like it had declared war.

“What’s this for?”

“You mentioned you liked it once. I remembered.”

“You remembered?”

“I don’t just remember compliments, darling.”

You didn’t thank him. You drank it silently.

He counted that as a win.

The breakthrough came during a self-care night he forced you to attend, complete with facials, snacks, glitter masks, and a playlist he insisted was “emotionally healing.”

You sat there, arms crossed, eyes darting to the door like it was your salvation.

“This is torture,” you muttered.

“It’s exfoliating.”

But then something strange happened. You relaxed. Somewhere between the hand massage and the foot soak, your eyes softened. You laughed, an actual, unguarded laugh, when Asmo recounted the time Mammon accidentally glued his own eyebrows together.

“You’ve got a nice laugh, you know,” he said, not flirty, just honest.

“You’re annoying,” you replied.

“Takes one to know one.”

Later, when you thought he’d left the room, he caught you examining yourself in the mirror.

Not admiring. Analyzing.

He leaned in the doorway.

“Looking for flaws?”

“I don’t need to. They’re obvious.”

“Funny. I don’t see any.”

“You’re not looking hard enough.”

“Or maybe you’re looking too hard.”

There was silence. Then you looked away and muttered something about not needing validation. But your voice cracked just a little.

And Asmo didn’t push.

He just smiled and passed you a moisturizing cream you never asked for.

----

Bonus

You once offhandedly called yourself “the family screw-up” during dinner. Asmo nearly choked on his tart. He then spent ten minutes dramatically praising every one of your accomplishments, including one you didn’t think anyone had noticed. You turned red and threatened to stab him with a salad fork. He said, “That’s my baby.”

After a particularly bad fight with your brother back in the human world (via D.D.D. call), Asmo dragged you to the Planetarium and made you lie down under fake stars until you relaxed. He let you pretend the tears were just from allergies.

You fell asleep in the middle of one of his long rants about fashion history. He covered you with his boa and whispered, “Rest, little lion. You’re still beautiful when you’re exhausted.”

He once painted your nails while you were asleep. You woke up furious but kept them. They were gold, with tiny little crowns.

Beelzebub

You and Beel weren’t exactly a dynamic duo on paper. He was steady, sincere, gentle in a way that made people underestimate him. You? You were prickly, sarcastic, and constantly teetering between a nap and a brawl. On the surface, it seemed like the only thing you had in common was your deep, eternal love of sleep.

But then again, maybe that was enough.

The first time Beel took notice of you was during one of the rare House of Lamentation quiet evenings. Most of the brothers were out causing some form of emotional chaos, and you had curled up on the couch like it was your personal throne, your tail flicking lazily as you scrolled through your D.D.D.

He entered the room with a sandwich the size of a small dog, paused mid-bite when he saw you, and blinked.

“You’re still here?”

“Am I not allowed to exist?”

“No, it’s just… everyone else is gone.”

“Exactly. Peace at last.”

Beel shrugged and plopped down next to you with the quiet heaviness of someone used to making room for others. You didn’t move. You didn’t even comment when the crumbs started falling dangerously close to your coat.

He noticed that too.

“You’re not yelling about the crumbs.”

“I’m conserving energy. Yelling takes effort.”

“…Smart.”

And that was the beginning of your weird little understanding.

It didn’t take long for you to realize Beel had a sixth sense for knowing when someone needed food. Not wanted, needed. You never asked, never said a word about skipping meals or being too tired to cook, but somehow, he’d always show up with something.

A protein bar. Half a sandwich. A peach.

“I don’t need charity.”

“It’s not charity. It’s food.”

“I’m not hungry.”

Chomp

“…Fine. Maybe I’m a little hungry.”

He never pried. Never asked why you skipped lunch, or why you sometimes looked like you hadn’t slept in a week despite spending most of your time horizontal. But he did sit next to you every time, sometimes not even talking, just eating quietly while your presence filled the room like static.

It was weirdly… nice.

He wasn’t like the others. He didn’t demand anything. Didn’t try to flirt, tease, or even fix you. He just was there, calm and dependable, like a weighted blanket with muscles.

You found yourself relaxing around him before you realized it was happening.

One night, you stayed up late training, pushing yourself way past your limit, like always, like it was the only way you knew how to silence the voice in your head that said you weren’t good enough. That you were always second-best. Always overshadowed.

You limped into the kitchen around midnight, not expecting anyone to be there.

Beel was.

Of course he was.

He was cooking what looked like enough food to feed a small army.

“You okay?” he asked without looking up.

“Peachy,” you muttered, grabbing an ice pack from the fridge.

“You’re limping.”

“You’re observant.”

He said nothing. Just finished his prep, plated up a ridiculous mountain of food, and pushed a bowl toward you.

You stared at it.

“I didn’t come here to be mothered.”

“I didn’t come here to judge.”

That shut you up real fast.

You sat. You ate. You didn’t talk, and neither did he. But when your eyes burned a little too much, when your fork slowed halfway to your mouth, he just slid a napkin your way. No fanfare. No pity.

Just quiet care.

Later, Beel found you outside, curled up under a tree in the House of Lamentation’s back garden. It was one of your hideouts, a spot where no one usually came looking. You looked up, not surprised, just tired.

“You don’t give up, huh?”

“Nope.”

“Even when I’m a mess?”

“Especially then.”

He flopped down next to you with a grunt, munching on an apple.

“Do you ever get tired of being the strong one?”

“Yeah. Do you?”

“��Yeah.”

It was the first time either of you said it aloud.

And for the first time in a long time, you felt seen.

----

Bonus Snack-Sized Softness™

He keeps a secret stash of your favorite snack in his room. No one else is allowed to touch it. Mammon tried once. Once.

When you sleep on the couch, Beel tucks a blanket around you without a word. You pretend not to notice. You totally notice.

You once caught him holding one of your worn gloves like it was precious. He got flustered. You teased him about it for a week.

You grumble every time he offers you food, but when he doesn’t, you sulk like a kicked puppy. He caught on. He always offers now.

On your worst days, when the inferiority complex is eating you alive, Beel doesn’t try to fix it. He just sits with you. Sometimes, that’s enough.

Belphegor

It started with naps. Or more accurately, nap territory disputes.

You had staked out your favorite spot on the House of Lamentation’s sun-drenched balcony, tail flicking lazily, head pillowed on your arm, ears twitching at the distant sound of someone being yelled at. You were finally slipping into that perfect dozing zone when a shadow fell over your face.

You cracked one eye open.

“You’re in my spot,” Belphegor said, expression blank, blanket slung over his shoulder like a cape.

“Correction: I conquered this spot. You’re just late.”

“I nap here every Thursday.”

“Not my problem, Sleeping Beauty.”

From that point on, it was war. Quiet, passive-aggressive, sleepy war.

Belphie would sprawl out right next to you, tugging at your blanket like a cat trying to reclaim a stolen patch of sunlight. You’d kick him. He’d roll onto your tail. You’d elbow him in the ribs. He’d "accidentally" drop a pillow on your face.

Somehow, this became a routine.

You both pretended it was about the spot. But really, it was because being around each other was weirdly… relaxing.

You weren’t chatty. He liked that. You didn’t ask him about his feelings. He really liked that. And you didn’t care that he could be blunt, moody, and emotionally volatile. You could match that energy just fine.

He’d mumble half-asleep insults like:

“You always look five seconds away from committing regicide.”

To which you’d reply:

“I’ll add you to the list.”

Mutual understanding.

But sometimes, between the bickering and naps, things got quieter. More… real.

It happened one afternoon when you came back from a long mission. Your shirt was torn. Your arm was bruised. And your expression was the kind of hollow that didn’t come from physical exhaustion.

Belphie looked up from his book.

“What happened?”

“Nothing important,” you muttered, flopping down beside him like usual.

He didn’t push. Just let the silence stretch between you. You expected him to fall back asleep.

Instead, he said:

“You looked like that when I first met you. Like you’d been picked second too many times.”

You flinched. Just slightly.

Belphie didn’t look at you. Just kept his gaze on the ceiling.

“I used to hate waking up because it meant being around people who expected me to be something I wasn’t. Always smiling, always patient. I wanted to scream.”

“So you slept to avoid expectations?”

“Something like that.”

You looked away. Bit your cheek. Felt the words sit heavy on your tongue.

“…My older sibling’s perfect. Everything I’m not. I used to think if I could just prove myself, just once, I could stop being a disappointment.”

He didn’t say anything right away.

Then:

“That’s a stupid way to think.”

You blinked.

“Gee, thanks for the therapy.”

“I mean, I think you’re impressive. And I’m the most honest one here.”

You stared at him. He yawned.

“Besides, if your sibling really was perfect, you wouldn’t be here and they would. So shut up and nap already.”

You didn’t smile. But your breathing eased. And for once, the silence wasn’t heavy.

Belphie never coddled you. He never told you to “try harder” or “just believe in yourself.” He didn’t treat you like someone broken.

Instead, he leaned against you during naps. He shared his pillow when he noticed yours was thin. He kicked you in the shin when you moped for too long and told you to stop being pathetic, but always made sure to give you the bigger blanket.

You liked that.

----

Bonus Grumpy Softness™

You once muttered in your sleep about “finally beating [sibling's name] in something.” Belphie didn’t mention it… but the next day, he “accidentally” let slip in front of Diavolo that you’d aced a test he had bombed. Oops.

Whenever you came back injured, Belphie didn’t fuss. He just threw his blanket over your head, shoved a pillow at your face, and said, “Sleep. You’ll feel better.” He wasn’t wrong.

You caught him napping in your spot once and prepared to launch a full pillow-based assault, only to find a small note tucked under the edge of the blanket. “You’re not second. You’re just quiet about being first.”

You never brought it up. But you kept the note.

Once, Beel walked in on you two mid-nap, both of you sprawled across the couch like exhausted lions, arms tangled, frowns nearly identical. He blinked. Took a picture. Sent it to the family group chat. Chaos ensued. You both denied everything.

Belphie likes the sound of your voice when you read aloud. He’ll pretend to be asleep while you’re reading ancient demon literature, but he’s always listening. Especially when you do the voices.

Thank you all so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed! As usual Reblogs are encouraged and appreciated!

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jazz--bugg · 2 months ago

Text

What Their Grace Feels Like | Grace Headcanons

Every angel has their own kind of vibe and I feel like the emotions / sentiments that their grace would evoke in people touched by it would reflect that.

Characters: Castiel, Lucifer, Gabriel, Michael, Raphael

Lucifer:

A crisp winter morning

The way the sun reflects on freshly lain snow

A cool cloth on feverish skin

Running your fingers over a frost covered surface

The satisfying crunch of snow underfoot

A chill down your spine

Dread that settles heavy in your gut

Prickling goosebumps along your skin

Shattered glass embedding in your skin

A bitter cold that seeps into your bones

Gabriel:

The warmth that settles in your chest seeing the people you love laugh

Playing in the grass in the summer

Childhood mischievousness

Sun dappled breezy fields

The warm buzzing under your skin when you blush

The rich warm glows of golden hour sunlight

Seeing a magic trick for the first time as a child

Heat wave visual distortion

The creeping heat of humiliating embarrassment

The uncomfortable warmth of a too humid room with no ac

Pins and needles

The rush of heat you get from opening an oven

The burning under your skin from being in the sun too long

Castiel:

A gentle thrumming

Comforting white noise

Rain on a car window that sends you to sleep on a long drive

Evening dew glistening on a spiders web

The gentle dripping of water from stalactites onto the floor of a cave

Ripples in a moonlit pond

A high pitched noise that’s barely in the register of your hearing but enough to give you a headache

The feeling of hail on bare skin

The grating of grinding teeth

Nails on a chalkboard

Standing under cold running water for too long

Michael:

The approving gaze of an authority figure

A gentle but firm hand on your shoulder

Light filtering through stained glass windows

Pristine dove feathers

Rosary beads gently rolling against one another during prayer

The awe of stepping into a cathedral for the first time

Someone’s watching you when you’re all alone

An unpleasant pressure in your chest, like something is sat on it

Shrinking in on yourself, belittled.

The weight of perceived and real failures crushing you

Stepping into holy ground where you know you don’t belong

Something liminal and clinical like the smell of a morgue or empty surgery suite

Raphael:

Touching a plasma ball

The fizzling crackle and pop from sparklers

The taste of ozone, charged air

The buzzing of electric pylons

Lichtenberg figures tracing energy along your skin

A static shock

the clap of thunder overhead

A harsh wind blowing through

The churning of the ocean during a storm

The dissonance of staring into the eye of a hurricane

The foreboding of storm clouds rolling in

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obeymefictionwriting · 10 months ago

Note

Wehehehe >:^D angst if u don’t mind

Uuhhhhhhh situation: MC and a brother/dateable (if u wanna) broke up (kinda messy so they ended on ehhhh terms) and they still kinda have feelings for MC

Can u do the brother’s/dateable’s reaction/thoughts to MC basically courting their opposite (example Lucifer’s opposite would probably be Levi, Mammons opposite would be Belphie, ect ect)

Even if u don’t wanna, I hope ya have a great day 🫶🫶🫶🫶

I love a bit of angst so let's go!

UPDATE: guys, it's really angsty lol i'm so sorry

Lucifer:

As an Avatar of Pride, he didn't admit his mistakes and he didn't admit that he was way too controlling, arrogant, and insensitive to your feelings.

As he now watches you hang out with Levi, he feels blind rage swelling in his chest. He can't believe he let you go and you know tend to someone so...bland and shut-in.

When he hears you giggle in Levi's room or see you two reading the same manga, he feels bitter as the two of you never seemed to spend time together like that.

He tried talking to you once. Well, he basically grabbed your wrist and forced you to stay where you were standing while he started spitting out his thoughts and emotions.

You just walked away, without even looking back. He heard you crying in Levi's room later.

"Weak and useless", he mutters whenever Levi is in his sight. His hands clench in fists as he is absolutely helpless about the situation and it drives him insane.

Mammon:

Okay, maybe he told you all these things but you cry easily anyway and at first, he didn't even feel guilty

He was sure you'd miss going out with him and he spent countless nights fantasizing how he will reluctantly take you back

Now he sees you spending all your time at home, with Belphie.

Just fucking HoL, sitting on the damn couch like two elderly people in a nursing home.

He passed you once or twice, in his best outfit, wearing expensive perfume and purposefully talking on the phone with a pretty witch

You never lifted your eyes on him

You never lifted your eyes from Belhie as he lied on your knees, telling you some bullshit made-up stories

He hates you for being able to move on to something more stable, something that he was never capable of giving

Leviathan:

He barely watched his words during this last argument and that was the end

With you, his life had some sort of meaning. Now, it turned into a pitch-black tunnel again

Watching you with Lucifer hurts him so badly he could never imagine

Lucifer is the epitome of everything you wanted him to be and he never even tried

At nights, he howl alone in his room, softening his screams with a pillow, wishing you heard him and come back

When he lifts his head from the pillow, he sometimes hears you being in the Lucifer's room - all the sounds so well known to him.

With every little moan and every little sigh that he hears from you being in Lucifer's arms, his heart shatters again and again until there is nothing left of it

Satan:

He never meant to say all these words and he never meant to scare you so much

His possesiveness played a cruel joke on him and you are gone forever now, dating calm and cheerful Beelzebub instead

The worst thing is that despite being older, he feels weak compared to Beel and he hates himself for that

He once caught you in the hall and pinned you to the wall, trying to force a kiss

Beel slammed him down while you stared in horror at the blood dripping on the floor

He never spoke to you or Beel again

Sometimes he hits the wall till his knuckles bleed, imagining it's Beel

Sometimes he cries, pressing your scarf to his chest, inhaling its scent and imagining it's you

Asmodeus:

He didn't talk to you till that damn day when he saw you out with Barbatos

Barbatos? Really? A fucking butler?

He was very proud of the speech he gave you when he approached you and made fun of your downgrade

After that, he locked himself in the room

He broke all his mirrors because in every mirror he saw the ghost of your smile when you used to hug him from behind and laugh happily

He once got down to breakfast without a hint of makeup and with messy hair

He looks exactly how he feels: crumbling into pieces

Beelzebub:

The only thing that hurts more than your scratchmarks on his back were your words about leaving him

He never thought you needed more...passion. Though he would call it uncontrollable wrath, considering you left for Satan

When he sees you with hickeys and other marks on your beautiful skin, he clenches his fists so tight it hurts

He can't really explain to himself when it all went wrong but one day, you were just gone

He know thinks he is just a big stupid jock if he was never able to see your fiesty and wild side

He made you cupcakes to try and apologise but you smashed them on the wall

When your eyes meet in the dining room, he feels sick to the stomach and can't finish his plate

Belphegor:

Mammon, really? Like he cares

He now sleeps almost 24/7 and doesn't sometimes respond to Beel trying to wake him up

At least in his dreams he can apologize for what he did

In reality, he knows you hate him and he feels it growing on his skin, like an icy shell

He hates how confidently Mammon looks and talks

He observes how you now glow, being able to finally go out and enjoy all the wonderful life outside, the one he was keeping so fiercely away from you

Sometimes in his dreams, you tell him you forgive him

Then he wakes up though he sometimes wishes he didn't

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these-written-reveries · 3 months ago

Text

Midnight Musings

‣ Pairing: Castiel x Reader (intended as romantic, but can potentially be viewed as platonic ?)

‣ Genre: Fluff, comfort

‣ Summary: A letter to you, from Castiel.

‣ Warnings: Vague reference to difficult times and poor mental/emotional wellbeing.

‣ Word Count: 671

‣ A/N: This was originally written on a whim for my bestie @jslittlebirdie, but I've decided to share it with the rest of the world as well. Perhaps other fellow Castiel lovers will appreciate what he has to say.

Y/N,

I can sense you are in need of some thoughtful reminders and perspective, as I know you’ve been going through a particularly difficult time recently that has caused you to slip into a state of jaded oblivion. It is my greatest hope that with the repetition of these words, woven into the letters I write for you while you sleep, that you will someday come to understand them to be true in the same way that I do.

Thoughts of you occupied my mind after you had drifted off to sleep tonight. I suppose that's not surprising news, as I'm always thinking of you, in some shape or form.

This time, though, as I watched your delicate lashes flutter ever so softly in your slumber, and the way your lips remained slightly pouted while I smoothed a thumb over your furrowed brow—a reflection of the stress that haunts even your dreams of late, I was suddenly hit with a near-overwhelming wave of gratitude. I, Heaven's most abhorred angel—second only to Lucifer himself, am so immensely blessed by the opportunity of not just bearing witness to the beautiful soul and being that is you, but to truly see you, to know you, to love you, and be with you. How and why I've been so generously bestowed this blessing is beyond my realm of knowledge. I certainly don't deserve you—not after all that I've done, but I'm nonetheless grateful I'm here, experiencing every fleeting fluctuation of life by your side.

You make me feel like all of this, all the bitterness of this world and life on Earth, is worth it. You've made me see that the harsh cruelty of existence is only outweighed by the beauty and love that lies all around and within us; some of it temporary, some everlasting. I see so much beauty and love in you, and it is one of many reasons I cherish you so dearly.

You are a beacon of hope and solace in this world. I spend my days orbiting you like the planets do the Sun; observing you, admiring you, looking to you for the unspoken answers I've misguidedly sought in every other being, mission, and location before I finally met you. By merely existing as yourself, you answer my questions, soothe my existential woes. You help me see what really matters in this world, and that life truly is worth living, even when it seems so incredibly dismal and burdensome.

All I have to do is look to you, and I am at once reminded of how lucky I am to have a companion to trudge through the darkness with. You are my guiding light, and you are also my best friend. I strive every day to embody these roles for you, as well. I know in the deepest part of my being that as long as we have each other, we can get through anything. So keep holding on, keep fighting. If not for yourself, then for me.

Open your eyes to the beauty and love, big and small, all around and inside of you. It is always there, if you so choose to see it. Observe it, admire it, cherish it, hold onto it. That will be, what I can say with certitude, the crutch and guiding force that will get you through any dark times you may face.

Remember, you'll always have me, whether it be physically by your side, or watching over you in spirit. I won't leave you alone, and my love for you will carry on far beyond your expiration.

In this vast, ever-changing universe, there remains a constant source of light, beauty, and love to anyone who is lucky enough to experience the magnificent soul that is you. What a blessing you are to this world. How much bleaker it would be without you. How truly lost and deficient I'd be without you. Even when you fail to see it, just know that I never will.

I never will.

-Castiel

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#castiel #cas #castiel x reader #cas x reader #castiel x y/n #cas x y/n #castiel novak #jimmy novak #castiel fanfiction #supernatural #spn #kalistawrites

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black00olive · 11 months ago

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Diavolo, Come Back To Sleep

A/N: How I feel after referencing Hamilton in the title: 🤓 Anyway, I've been cranking out fics like no tomorrow recently what's up with me o.o

Pairing: Diavolo x reader, a sprinkle of everyone else x reader too but it could be read as onesided or just platonic

Wordcount: ~1,200

Summary: Diavolo wakes up early, it’s required of him as future king, but it’s hard to do so when you’re here with him.

Sometimes— no, that’s not right, he shouldn’t try to lie to himself— Often Diavolo finds himself regretting his decision to have you live under the same roof as the brothers. He’s never enjoyed having these thoughts, seeing as his decision is what has led to so much progress towards his goal of bringing harmony between the three realms. The situation he currently finds himself in would never have been possible if it weren’t for you living in the House of Lamentation and subsequently having pacts with the brothers. Yet, despite these facts Diavolo finds himself grown used to the jealousy that had bloomed in his heart long ago.

The brothers probably see this sight very often, he’s heard from Lucifer how often his brothers tend to find their way to your room in the middle of the night (Lucifer is careful about how he phrases it, as if Diavolo’s internal lie detector would go off if he actually claimed he wasn’t like his brothers). How lucky, Diavolo thinks, bitter jealousy coursing his veins as he brushes away a stray strand of hair from your face. The light touch makes your nose scrunch up and your eyebrows furrow as you slowly shake your head as if to try and shake off whatever it was that touched you. His chest rumbles as he lets out a quiet, groggy chuckle and he feels his jealousy wash away as if it had been nothing but a bad dream. Even when not awake your antics seem to always calm him. The brothers might have had you like this before, but this morning you’re his and his alone.

As he stares at your peaceful, sleeping face he finds himself wondering what you're dreaming about— if you’re dreaming about anything at all. In any case, Diavolo can’t help himself from speculating on what it could even be that you would dream about. Maybe you’re dreaming about going on some great adventure in the jungle or desert or sea. Perhaps you’re dreaming of something more fantastical like being a superhero and saving the world— Ah, however, you did once say that your likes tended to lean more towards the villains most of the time, so perhaps you’re dreaming of something more sinister— more demon-like? Diavolo finds himself smiling at the thought, wouldn’t that be something? Either way, he thinks as he feels the slow, steady rise and fall of your chest against his body and your breath fanning ever so gently on his shoulder, whatever it is your dreaming of he wishes to make it come true. There is very little he wouldn’t do to see your beautiful and bright smile grace your face. When he had first realised that he had been a little terrified over the sheer power you held over him, but now he can’t help but feel some pride over it. Of course you— and only you— are the one that holds such power, it makes sense. In his hearts, it seems right.

Barbatos quietly enters his chambers and it forces Diavolo out of his thoughts. How unfortunate, he thinks as Barbatos pulls open the blinds in his room (though it doesn’t have much impact considering the perpetual night the Devildom is stuck in) and reminds him that it is time he starts to prepare himself for the day. He lets out a half-hearted protest but he knows that he truly doesn’t have much of a choice in the matter. This is just one part of his never-ending responsibilities as crown prince and future king. Barbatos gives him a sympathetic smile as his eyes quickly flick to your sleeping form, understanding evident in his eyes. It’s a curse that you are so charming that you have even his butler wrapped around your finger.

Closing the door as he leaves, Barbatos is showing that he trusts Diavolo to be able to get up himself even with you in his arms. Usually, if he refused to get up when Barbatos told him to, Barbatos would simply force him up. However, in this case that would rouse you and right now you look so sound, neither of them have the hearts to do that.

Diavolo sighs as he gently lets his hold of you go. He stops all movements when your face scrunches up and you start to mumble something incoherent. Once you stop, Diavolo continues to slowly get out of bed; he really needs to get up now and he really wants you to continue sleeping, and it’s proving quite difficult to achieve both things simultaneously. Eventually Diavolo finally manages to get out of bed (though it had taken about 10 minutes longer than average) and he starts to get ready. He grabs the shirt Barbatos had laid out for him and starts to get dressed. It’s moments like these seeds of resentment start to bury themselves in his heart, right now he’d like nothing more than to lie back down with you until you decide it’s time to get up. However, duty calls and his duties are the most important of all.

“Dia?” You mumble as you rub your eyes and Diavolo instantly turns to you. He feels his hearts melt at the sight that greets him, you clearly still halfway asleep and slowly blinking at him with bleary eyes. “It’s so early, why are you getting up?”

Chuckling he walks back over to the bed and sits on the edge of his bed. “I have to get ready for the day,” he presses a chaste kiss on your forehead, “you should sleep some more.” He had only managed to get halfway dressed before you had woken up, so he stands up and goes to finish getting dressed. Feeling a small tug on the back of his shirt he stops and turns back to you, a mistake he quickly realises as he stares at you. A small frown, bordering on a pout, finds itself on your face and Diavolo doubts if you’re fully conscious currently.

“C’mon, you can stay with me a little longer can’t you?” You ask and Diavolo finds it getting increasingly difficult to deny you. He shakes his head and gently removes your hand from his undershirt before he walks over to where Barbatos had left his clothes. Quiet rustling of duvets and comforters and light steps over his floor is all he hears before you wrap your arms around his waist, resting your head against his back. “Diavolo, come back to sleep,” you start and he wonders if you purposefully know what you’re doing, “c'mon,” you plead and he lets go of the clothes he’s holding in his hands. You’re too powerful for your own good, Diavolo thinks as he turns to face you. He sighs before giving you a small smile. “Alright,” he whispers as if Barbatos will hear him if he says it too loudly. He’ll deal with Barbatos’ lectures later.

Right now, he just needs to sleep with you a little longer.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #om! shall we date #om! swd #obey me x reader #obey me x mc #obey me diavolo #obey me diavolo x reader #om! diavolo #diavolo x mc #gn reader #🫒·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ writing

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rainforestakiie · 6 months ago

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mph funny and cute idea!

one day, lucifer suddenly finds that he can hear adam's thoughts, even though adam is in heaven. at first, lucifer is disgusted and annoyed, expecting adam's thoughts to be repulsive. but to his surprise, every thought that crosses adam's mind is innocent, sweet, and random. adam is like a cinnamon bun in hiding, and lucifer ends up genuinely enjoying hearing them. he finds himself smiling in amusement whenever adam's thoughts pop into his mind. most of the time, when he's in a particularly bad mood, just one of adam's innocent thoughts is enough to cheer him up.

One day, deep in the fiery heart of Hell, Lucifer was pacing restlessly, his wings twitching with irritation. He had been having a particularly trying time with his underlings, and the pit’s infernal noise wasn’t helping his sour mood. He loathed the never-ending cacophony. The silence he yearned for felt like a distant memory.

But then, something strange happened.

A thought whispered through his mind—a soft, almost innocent ripple that didn’t belong to him. It wasn’t like the usual voices in his head; it was different—quiet, unfamiliar, and far too... pure.

"I wonder if the clouds today are like cotton candy... I haven't seen one in ages."

Lucifer froze, his wings stilled mid-flap. That wasn’t his thought. He scowled. Who is this? His mind twisted in irritation. Heaven. The thought was so mundane, so detached from the endless suffering he was surrounded by. His first instinct was to crush it, to banish whatever foolishness had dared invade his domain. But then the thought continued, unbothered.

"I hope the flowers in the garden bloom well this season. I think they'd look nice by the river."

Lucifer’s brow furrowed. It was—sweet. Far too sweet. His lip curled in disgust. Heaven’s purity was repulsive enough, but this? This was beyond irritating. He had no use for innocence.

But no matter how much he tried to focus on his anger or hatred, the thoughts came back.

"I think I'd like a nap later. I’m so tired, but maybe I’ll read first."

Lucifer’s irritation deepened. Was this some kind of celestial trick? Was someone mocking him?

But then, something unexpected happened.

"Maybe I’ll find a new place to explore. There's so much in Heaven I haven't seen yet."

For reasons he didn’t understand, a strange warmth spread through him. He gritted his teeth. This can’t be real.

But it was. The thoughts kept coming, like the soft flutter of wings on a breeze. Sweet, random musings that seemed as harmless as they were odd. And in some twisted way, Lucifer found himself... enjoying them.

"I should probably tidy up my room today. A little organization goes a long way."

A small laugh bubbled up in his chest before he could suppress it. What was wrong with him? This wasn’t the bitter, fiery vengeance he was used to. But as the day passed, more of Adam's thoughts drifted through his mind. Simple things. Little joys. It was like hearing a melody from a far-off place—soft, unpretentious, and oddly soothing.

"Do you think the birds in Heaven like singing? I hope they do."

Lucifer smiled before he even realized it. He couldn’t help himself. The thoughts made his heart ache, not with sorrow but with something strange, something he hadn’t felt in eons. It was peace.

By the time the day had ended, Lucifer was in a better mood than he’d been in for ages. Despite himself, he found himself looking forward to the next random thought that would float into his consciousness.

"Maybe I’ll find a nice quiet spot to think today. Just for a while."

He chuckled, shaking his head.

“Adam…you’re so weird," he muttered under his breath, remembering the way Adam’s thoughts felt like a hidden sweetness in a world of bitterness. Lucifer wasn’t sure what was happening, but he didn’t mind.

For once, he didn’t feel quite so alone.

The next day, Lucifer found himself wandering the desolate depths of Hell with an odd anticipation, as if something was waiting for him. And it was.

"I wonder why rabbits have such long ears. Maybe they can hear better than we can."

Lucifer stopped mid-step, eyes narrowing. That voice—so soft, so curious—was back. Adam’s thought was simple, yet it carried with it a kind of innocence that made Lucifer’s scowl falter. Why would he even think of that?

"And why are turtles so slow? Maybe they're just wise and take their time with everything."

Lucifer blinked, momentarily distracted. The thought was bizarre in its simplicity, yet oddly comforting. The ridiculousness of it almost made him want to laugh. Of course, Adam would wonder about turtles, of all things.

He shook his head. No, he was not going to get soft. This was beneath him. But then, as if the universe was conspiring against his resolve, another thought drifted in, unbidden.

"Do whales have their own language? I bet they do. They probably have conversations we can’t even imagine."

Lucifer felt a smile tug at the corner of his lips before he could stop it. Language? The sheer wonder in Adam’s voice was so pure, it made Lucifer’s chest tighten in a way he couldn’t explain. Whales. Conversations. It was like hearing a child ask about the stars, and Lucifer... liked it. Far too much.

"I wonder if the stars in the sky are actually like little eyes, watching us."

Lucifer paused, a slow chuckle escaping him. Stars are watching us? It was such an innocent, bizarre thought that it almost felt like Adam was reaching through Heaven to try and touch Lucifer’s soul. It was an odd, comforting sensation, like the warmth of sunlight on a cold day.

The thoughts were never anything grand or profound. They weren’t about power or war, not about the universe's deep secrets. They were simple, fleeting musings on the world around him. Yet, Lucifer found himself listening to them more eagerly, and his heart was lighter than it had been in centuries.

"Why do cats always seem to sit in the sun? Is it because it feels nice? I bet it does."

Lucifer's brow furrowed, an unexpected chuckle escaping him. Yes, Adam. It feels nice.

What was this? Was he—enjoying this? The simplicity of it? The purity? The odd randomness of it all?

"I wonder what it would be like to fly freely. Just spread my wings and feel the wind."

Lucifer blinked. This time, the thought lingered longer in his mind. Flying. For a brief moment, he remembered the feeling, the freedom of wings soaring through endless skies, the wind rushing past him. A feeling he hadn’t allowed himself to recall in centuries. The thought of Adam wanting something so simple, so human, stirred something in him

"Do birds ever get tired of flying? Or do they just like it forever?"

Lucifer shook his head, feeling something like a lightness he hadn’t felt in a long, long time. What was Adam doing to him? His thoughts were like soft tendrils, wrapping around the edges of his dark heart and softening it. He wanted to hear more. And more. He found himself longing for Adam’s next stray thought, even as he loathed how it made him feel.

"I think it would be nice to find a big, fluffy cloud and just lie on it."

Lucifer closed his eyes, the image of Adam lying on a cloud—peaceful, content, drifting without a care—filling his mind. How absurd. How sweet. He let the thought linger, letting it fill him in a way he couldn’t describe. For just a moment, he was almost at peace.

Then, as if he’d been shaken from a dream, he snapped back to reality, glaring at the fiery landscape of Hell surrounding him.

"Do fish ever get lonely, I wonder? Or are they always happy swimming around with their friends?"

Lucifer’s heart skipped a beat. He wasn’t sure why, but the thought made something inside him stir—an unexpected, almost painful ache. Lonely, Adam had thought. Lonely.

Lucifer didn’t want to admit it, but he felt that word more deeply than he ever thought he would.

"I hope all the animals in Heaven are happy. I think they are."

With that final thought, a quiet peace settled over Lucifer. It wasn’t something he could fight. It was as though Adam’s innocent curiosity had become a balm to his weary soul, soothing the wounds he’d carried for eons. A cinnamon bun, Lucifer thought absently, his lips twitching upward again at the absurdity of it all.

The grand hall of Heaven was filled with the usual celestial chatter. The soft glow of ethereal light shimmered off the marble pillars, and the air was thick with the sound of archangels and lesser beings debating matters of judgment, order, and the fate of the souls. But Lucifer was no longer paying attention to the flow of the conversation. His gaze was fixed not on the grand assembly but on Adam, who sat at the far end of the room, his brow furrowed in concentration, his lips slightly parted as he listened to someone—likely Sera—speak.

Lucifer hadn’t expected to feel so drawn to Adam’s presence. After all, Adam had always been the naive, loud-mouthed child of Heaven, clumsy in his optimism and reckless in his attempts to bring peace. The angels often mocked him for it, his innocence treated as weakness, but now… now Lucifer found himself listening intently, not to what Adam said, but to what he was thinking.

Adam’s thoughts, as always, were strangely random. They buzzed through Lucifer’s mind like little bursts of light, soft and unbothered by the chaos of the world around him. It was the little things that Adam wondered about, the trivialities that Lucifer never even considered.

"I wonder what crystals the table is made out of… it looks shiny. Maybe it’s marble, but it’s too shiny for that."

Lucifer blinked, his eyes narrowing in quiet amusement. The thought was so… innocent. He couldn’t help but smile a little. He was supposed to be the prince of darkness, the ruler of Hell, and yet Adam’s curious musings had a way of making him feel lighter, as if all the weight of his kingdom, all the weight of the war, could be forgotten for just a moment.

"Why is Sera’s chair always the biggest? I guess it’s because she’s always so serious. But it doesn’t look very comfortable. I bet she’d rather have one with more cushions.”

Lucifer felt a chuckle escape him before he could stop it. More cushions? Adam's endless questions, simple as they were, were like a breath of fresh air in the oppressive atmosphere of the council hall. It was amusing, almost absurd, how much he cared about things no one else even thought twice about.

He turned his gaze to Sera, who was speaking now, her words as cold and sharp as ever. Adam’s thoughts, however, remained as soft as ever, floating through Lucifer’s mind like little clouds.

"I think Charlie only ever wears red because it’s her favorite color. She should wear more blue though. It’d look nice on her."

Lucifer’s lips quirked into a smile. Blue? Even in Heaven, in this grand meeting of celestial beings, Adam was thinking about clothes. He could almost picture Adam’s wide-eyed wonder as he glanced around, observing everything with the kind of innocent curiosity that was impossible to suppress. He was still, as ever, a cinnamon bun in hiding. How charming, Lucifer thought.

He let the thought drift away, but then, Adam’s next thoughts tugged at something deeper.

"I hope Charlie succeeds. She’s been working so hard. I want her to do well, for the sake of the sinners, and for the baby human souls too. They need someone like her. I hope she knows that."

Lucifer stilled. Charlie? His gaze flicked toward his precious daughter, who was locked in an increasingly heated argument with Sera. The two were debating—loudly, as usual—about the fate of the sinners, but in the midst of their quarrel, Adam’s thoughts cut through the noise with surprising clarity.

"She’ll figure it out," Adam thought, "She always does. She’s strong, and she cares so much. She takes after Lucifer a lot. I like that."

Lucifer blinked. That was… unexpected. Adam’s thoughts were never this focused, this dedicated. The thought of Adam, the same naïve Adam who couldn’t seem to think beyond the next cloud, holding such admiration for Charlie, was a revelation. But hearing him like this, hearing him offer such simple encouragement to Charlie—his genuine desire for her to succeed—it was… unexpectedly moving.

"I hope the sinners get a second chance," Adam thought, his mind filled with a quiet, unshakeable hope. "They deserve a chance to be better. I’d really like to see them have one. I think they can do it."

Lucifer’s heart twisted, and for the briefest of moments, his vision blurred. A second chance? The words hung in his mind like a song he couldn’t escape. The thought of redemption, of forgiveness, it cut through him with a bittersweet sting.

Adam, Lucifer thought. He had always underestimated Adam, seen him only as a naive fool. But these thoughts—this raw, untainted hope for the world—told him more than any words ever could.

He didn’t speak. He didn’t need to. There was something in Adam’s thoughts—something so pure, so unlike the cynicism that had hardened Lucifer's heart—that for the first time in a long while, he felt a strange, undeniable pang. A hope that was not his own.

As the debate between Sera and Charlie grew louder, Adam’s thoughts remained soft but insistent, a quiet undercurrent of love and encouragement. Lucifer stayed silent, sitting in the midst of it all, listening to Adam's musings, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, he didn’t feel the urge to crush it, to silence it.

Instead, he let it wash over him, like a cool breeze through the inferno.

Lucifer hoped he would never lose this new connection with Adam.

Adam’s thoughts drifted again, and this time, they were softer, quieter, as if he were trying to keep them to himself. Lucifer leaned in, as always, drawn to the subtle hum of Adam’s mind. He could sense the shift in tone, the wistful yearning that always preceded the more personal, fragile thoughts. The noise of Heaven—the clatter of voices, the squabbles, the endless debates about the fate of souls—was growing louder around them. But it didn’t drown out Adam’s quiet reflection.

"I miss Eden."

The words rang through Lucifer’s mind, simple and poignant. There was no grandiosity in Adam’s voice, no deep philosophical pondering, just a raw, almost childlike longing for something that had been lost.

Lucifer closed his eyes, his chest tight, feeling a familiar ache gnaw at him. Eden. That garden. The days when everything had been… simpler. When it had been just the two of them.

Adam, sitting by the crystal-clear waters, asking endless questions about the animals, his eyes bright with wonder as he wandered through the lush gardens. Lucifer would watch him, always amused by Adam’s childlike curiosity. The world had been full of peace then, before everything changed.

Adam’s thoughts continued, drifting through the silence like soft winds rustling the trees of Eden. His thoughts were scattered but persistent, as if he couldn’t help but return to it over and over again.

"It’s just too noisy here now. Everything’s a mess. I can’t hear myself think. I miss the quiet of Eden."

Lucifer’s jaw tightened, the words striking a chord deep within him. He didn’t realize how much he longed for those days until he heard Adam’s thoughts. How much he missed the stillness, the gentle cadence of life before the war, before everything had been broken.

Everything had been right in Eden. They’d walked through the gardens together, side by side. Lucifer had been his guide, his protector, and in those moments, there had been nothing but peace. No wars. No rebellion. Just the two of them, with the world unfolding in harmony around them.

"It was just so… peaceful," Adam’s thought lingered in Lucifer’s mind. "Why is everything so hard now?"

Lucifer’s heart clenched at that. He knew that feeling all too well. Why was everything so hard? It was a question he’d asked himself a thousand times. Life had never felt like this before. Confusion. Noise. Struggle.

He thought about the long conversations they used to have—those quiet, deep talks beneath the shade of Eden’s trees. About everything and nothing at all. They had been so close back then. So… uncomplicated. But now?

Now, Lucifer could barely remember the last time he had shared a moment like that with Adam. It was hard to remember what peace even felt like, let alone trust it again.

Without realizing it, Lucifer muttered aloud, the words escaping his lips before he could stop them.

“I miss Eden too.”

For a moment, the words hung in the air, and it took Lucifer several seconds to process what he had just said. His eyes widened in sudden realization, as if a barrier had cracked open in his chest, letting something long buried spill out into the open. His heart skipped a beat. He had spoken without meaning to. He had shared something he hadn’t allowed himself to feel for so long.

Adam stared at him.

#hazbin hotel #adamsapple #lucifer x adam #fanfic #guitarduck #au #fanficiton

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shapard · 8 months ago

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Sweet Delusion🌙

Lucifer x fem!reader

Tw: Sexual Themes, self hatred, insecurities, self sabotage.

Your first meeting with The Lucifer Mornigstar was very, rough.

We can't be friends

Chapter 1 > Chapter 2

Story starts underneath the cut.

You hated it here with all your might. Working for Valentino was making you sicker everyday.

The way his drug Saliva was intoxicating the air around you, making you feel dizzy and tipsy. The way the lingerie hung uncomfortable on your skin, the sweat that pearled off your body made you even sicker than before.

The microphone in your one hand was the only thing that made you grab onto the reality. Your child you would be so disappointed that you are standing here, on this stage in front of a Sinner, like yourself.

A Sinner like everyone in this pit.

The bitter taste of alcohol on your tongue was still sweeter than the glares you were getting from your own team.

It isn't the first time you felt this way. In hell, getting backstabbed is one of the least problems. You can't trust anyone.

The first days you arrived here, you were lying to yourself. Making a fool out of you, every time.

Jealousy, death and pain was normal here. Everyone drowned their problem down with drugs, killing and sex.

You were no exception.

Valentino was, as always, sitting on his throne like chair, observing your every move. “Dear Kitty, come to papi.”

The way Valentino called for you was making you want to vomit. The lust in his voice was unbearable.

Your heels were hitting the ground as you walked over to Valentino. “What is it, papi?“ How much you hated that pet name.

As much as you don't want to call him this way, he doesn’t accept another from you. His little kitten, his possession.

No one should touch his possession. Or else you'd feel his anger with no mercy.

“The performance was great as always! I couldn’t look away at those hips. But one thing was missing.“ He tapped on his lap, gesturing you to sit on it. With hesitant you sat down onto his lap. “What papi?“ Valentinos lower hands were now on your hips as the other was caressing your cheek and the other was holding his pipe.

“You know I love the way you say it, don’t ya?” Valentinos chuckle was burning down your ears, poison would’ve burn less.

His caressing hand was now holding your lip, “You know, I’ve been planning to let you meet one of my favorites. After you, of course.” You squinted your eyes at him, “I don’t understand?” His pipe made its way towards you as you breathed in his toxin. “Angel.”

The sudden change of voice was giving you the shills.

Another sinner made his way towards you. It was indeed the famous porn star, Angel Dust.

“Meet Kitty, the Star in our business.” The said sinner held his head down, almost in submission. “I’m Kitty and you are?” You introduced yourself and shook his hand. He introduced himself to you with full blown energy.

Something you didn't expect.

You jumped down from Valentinos Lap as you blew him a kiss, “Don’t miss me too much Papi.” He chuckled as he dismissed you.

“You sure like him.” Angel pointed towards Valentino. You chuckled in Irony, “I actually hate him.” You confessed to him. You two continued to leave the club.

“Wha-? Where are we going?” Angel said scared, his hand latched onto you making you stop in your tracks. “We are going to my room. No Val allowed!” You chuckled as you pulled him towards your room.

He stopped.

Confused you look towards him, “Actual I have to go to a Hotel.” He said anxious. “Well I could join you?” His face turned fast to fright, “No, NO. It’s okay, the people are very weird, you wo-“ you pinched his skin and he hissed in pain. “I don’t care, bring me to the Hotel.”

You'd rather join him in the Hotel, than rot in this place alone. You were so alone these days.

Your mouth was gaped as you entered the freshly Hotel, everything was so colorful and yet dark and delicate.

“Wow!” Was the only thing you even thought when you looked around.

You made your way towards the window and your finger grazed the clean wood of the Hotel. A squiek brought you out of the trance as your eyes shifted towards a blond woman, she looked very humane for a sinner.

“OH MY GAWD! WE HAVE A NEW GUEST, EVERYONE!” The sudden shouting made your ear twitch in annoyance. “Wait Charlie! She’s just visiting!” Angel got in between, he shielded me from her hugging attempts.

A static sound and a shadow lurked to your left, “Well, Hello my dear! If it isn’t the famous singer, Kitty!” His huge smile was very uncomfortable for you.

“What’s the smile for?” You pointed towards the unknown guy as he disappeared and appeared behind you grabbing your shoulders, “A smile is very useful, you should try it.” His sharp nails trailed your lips like you were the Joker.

He laughed when you moved away from his hard grasp.

“The hell” you mutter. You turned around and looked over to the stairs as you saw another guy with familiar featured with the girl named Charlie.

“What’s going on?” He asked and you couldn’t relate more to a question than right now.

“Angel brought a Guest, A famous one even.” You waved towards them, “OH, I’M SO SORRY! LET ME INTRODUCE EVERYONE TO YOU!” You hissed at her loudness, damn your ears are sensitive. She quickly apologized and talked a little more normal.

"My name is Charlie, I'm the owner of this wonderful resident." You two shook your hands and smiled at each other.

“This is Husk, our Bartender.” The said guy waved at you and you politely repeat the gesture.

“And this is Alastor, my helping hand.” So Alastor is the name of the wierdo.

“This is my girlfriend, Vaggie.” You waved at her and she waved back.

“This is Nifty, our cleaning girl.” You looked to the small girl in front of you. “Can I clean your underwear?” You chuckled at the weird question as Charlie Apologized for her behaivor.

She pointed towards the guy that looked almost exactly like her, “That’s my Father, Lucifer Morningstar.” If you were alone right now, you’d probably be screaming.

The Devil was right in front of you! The pure Evil! “Hello, nice to meet you. And what’s your name?” You bowed quickly as you started to introduce yourself.

For the devil he was quite nice.

“My Celebrity name is Kitty. My actual name is Y/n. Nice to meet you all.”

You already know that the next few days are going to be exhausting. Pretending to be someone you're not. Pretending that you love being you. That you are confident.

______

Some time passed and with the days you visited the Hotel, the more you realized that one person did not like you at all.

With your luck it was The Lucifer Morningstar.

Oh, and you were so wrong. He wasn't nice at all. He's the complete opposite, since the first meeting.

From making rude comments to spilling extra coffee onto your clothes, worst part is, you hate coffee.

Always Ignoring you, sharing false Information about you. You don't know what you did to him, to deserve that embarrassment.

You really don’t know why he hates you that much. Is it self hatred or is it because he doesn’t like sinners at all?

And if so, why doesn’t he do those things to the other guest?

“Angel, He hates me.” Your voice muffled as your head rested in your hands. Angels hand caressed your back. “I don’t think he hates you. Maybe it’s just a coincidence?” You gave Angel the ‘Are you serious‘ face.

“Okayyy maybe he does hate ya, but who cares?” you groaned as you sat back, “He’s Lucifer. The king of hell! Of course I care!” The sudden outburst made Angel wince a bit, he gave you your Mojito glass. “I think you need this.”

You muttered a small thanks as you took a huge gulp out of the glass. “I hate when life is so complicated. And in a few hours I have to perform at Valentinos club. I don’t want to see his purple fuck face.” Angel laughed, “Who would like to see him though?” I shrug my shoulders as I stood up.

“Was nice spending some time you with you Angel, sadly I have to go.” You gave him a huge hug.

When you made your way towards the exit, you saw the one and only Lucifer Morningstar, leaning onto the door. You sigh, why you?

“Excuse me sir, I have to pass.” You said polite, not wanting to get into trouble. His red scarlet eyes beamed to you as he finally looked you into the eyes, he rolled his eyes.

He didn’t budge, “I wanted to ask you something.” He sigh deeply, his finger tapped onto his cane, “Charlie would like to have you in the Hazbin Hotel.” His annoyance was very obvious, “I don’t know why she wants someone useless like you, but, I can’t change her mind. So, would you like to join?”

You blinked up to him, irritated by his strained voice. “Huh?” You were confused, why did Lucifer asked you and not Charlie?

“Are you deaf?” His eyes squinted. “I’m just confused. Charlie could’ve asked herself, you know?” His eyebrow raised as he huffed in annoyance.

“That’s none of your business, Kitty.” He sassed back to you, still he made space for you, to leave. “Think about it.”

______

Moving into the Hotel? Is that even a good Idea?

It would be nice to not always be in your working environment. There was just one Issue. Valentino wouldn’t allow that. In no universe would Valentino ever let go of his precious Kitten. Not in a billion years. You were after all his main Income. With a sigh you stepped into the V’s huge empire.

“Kitty!” The hot pink smoke made it clear who it was. “Where have you been going lately?! You’re missing your studio sessions.” You took a deep breath in, it’s been a while since Valentino had used this voice drop on you.

“I’m sorry papi, I was just looking for new clients.” Valentino beamed in surprise. Your puppy eyes were showing some effect. “Such a good kitty cat you are. That’s why you’re the best!” His sudden mood swing doesn’t surprise you at all.

That's just Valentino.

He never seems disappointed when you bring some new clients. Even though this time you were lying.

You sat down in the car that was waiting for you both.

The door closed and soon you drove through the pride ring, into one of Valentino’s club. In the changing room the mood was very anxious. Everyone was tiptoeing around Valentino. Valentino also seemed to be very pissed. So, you avoided talking to him.

“Kitty, you’re next.”

With a sigh you stood up. The pearls on your lingerie outfit were very cold, making your nipple harden. “Let’s get over with this.” Your heels stabbed the ground in an elegant, yet scary way.

The music started to play announcing your arrival on stage. You took the microphone as you sang soft yet hard notes into it.

“There are no more tears to cry

I heard you beggin' for life

Runnin' out of medicine

You're worse than you've ever been”

You moved outside of the curtain which were hiding you.

You looked around the room and you saw no one else than Charlie, Husk, Vaggie and Angel. Your brows knitted, what are they doing here?

When your show was over, a lot of applause echoed through the shallow walls. With in seconds you were in front of Charlie and the others.

“What are you doing here?!” Angel sighed, “Told y’all she’s not going to be happy about it. But no one listens to me.” Charlie jumped up and bowed really quick, you chuckle at her cute antics. “I’m so so soooo sorry! I thought if we come watch you, we’d come more along. You know, support you and all.” she's so cute you thought, “You could’ve at least told me, you know?” Your cheeks felt warm all of the sudden.

No one really cared about supporting you ever. Charlie really was different.

“Thank you.” You muttered and the others held a thumb up, making you laugh again.

“Kitty.” The cold voice of Valentino was like a ghost creeping up behind you, if not even worse. A hard hand landed on your shoulder, making you spin around. “We need to talk. In private.” He said while gesturing towards Charlie and the others.

With a shaking breath you bid the other goodbye. Meanwhile they gave you a Sympathetic look, almost. It was weird for you.

It’s as almost as if they cared.

Your inner insecurities screamed at you.

They do not care about you, why would they even? That's what you tell yourself. You're not ready to get hurt, again.

You walked next to the stomping Valentino, but all you could focus about was the reaction from the others.

Were you friends?

Are you even that special to have friends?

You and Angel are in a way, you two share the same fate. Sold half of your soul just for some extra money.

Pathetic, isn’t it?

But that is all what you are, all what Y/n ever was.

But now you were Kitty, a superstar. Someone everyone liked. All you have to do is look good and sexy, be dump.

Yet what were these faces?

You don’t want to see those faces. It was irking you. Your blood quirk started to make your blood almost burn down your veins, allowing you to step back to reality.

And all of the sudden, a Slap was all that you felt. You collided the cold ground with a groan. “Kitty, papi is really mad right now.” You didn’t moved an inch, “I thought I taught you better than that. Lucifer’s brat? Really? What is even so special about her?!”

You winced as Valentino pulled your head towards him, “You were a bad girl. And you know what happens to bad girls.” Your whole body shook as raw flashbacks came back.

A Man you once called your lover, holding you in the same position.

You didn't want this to happen. You couldn't control your quirk 100 percent. Valentinos blood vessels started to burst and he coughed blood onto you, “Fucking Bitch!”

He clicked a button on a remote, not even a second later an electric shock flowed through your body making you scream.

“Useless”.

All you could see was your past lover standing in front of you. Not Valentino. Tears streamed down your face as everything went black.

“I’m Sorry.”

A/n: IT'S BEEN SO LOOONNGG

But finally I'm back and giving you another story for our depressed duck.

💫

Taglist

@i-have-no-life-charlie @sirenetheblogger @concentratedconcrete @ylovei @cimadreamer @ayanazoldyck @froggybich

#shapard #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer hazbin hotel #hazbin lucifer #lucifer #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel #y/n #lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #Lucifer hates reader #x reader #enemy's to lovers sort of

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theyapper0 · 1 year ago

Text

HAZBIN HOTEL ORIGINS REWRITE

(AKA a rewrite of Lucifer, Lilith, and Adam's (and Eve's) backstory with the Garden of Eden and stuff (and a slight change to Charlie as well :)

OKAY SO there’s Heaven, angels and God.

God makes Humanity (I.E Adam and Lilith (both created from the dust/dirt of Earth)) and allows them to stay in The Garden of Eden so long as they do not eat the fruit barred from the Tree of Knowledge (they will die if they do).

Lilith, not wanting to SIN but just wanting answers, questions WHY exactly God would even PUT the tree there if they would die if they eat from it.

God explains that in order for them to TRULY have free will and freedom, they must have to have the CHOICE to choose whether or not they eat from the tree, despite knowing it would kill them

Lilith thinks that’s STUPID, why give us a tree with fruit that is poisonous to us? Surely this God is not as omniscient and all-knowing as we believe he is! For what God would knowingly give his creations something to kill them? How foolish! It surely must have been a mistake on his part that he was sloppily trying to cover up!

Lilith decides she doesn’t want to follow, believe or even TRUST a God that would even CONSIDER putting a tree like that in their paradise! She says as much to Adam, he disagrees with her. God had given us the tree to give us the freedom of choice, had we not have it, we would be nothing but mindless robots.

But Lilith disagrees, she wants to leave and Adam refuses to go with her.

She leaves by herself, fleeing to the Red Sea.

Lilith stomps off. She looks back. Adam stays standing where he is, eyes looking down, sad

She keeps walking

Adam is depressed from her absence, a human with no one is a lonely one, they are meant to be with company.

God sympathizes with him and creates Eve from his rib, a new companion for him

_________

Lucifer is God’s best angel. One of the smartest, most beautiful and trusted angels in all of Heaven.

But also the most arrogant.

He felt betrayed once God created humans, they were his children and voiced his beliefs on how they are above not only himself, but the angels as well- which included Lucifer. But the angel could not believe it! For, how could such a lowly thing, a human, be above a holy being such as himself? It wasn’t fair!

Lucifer rebels against God and is banished to Hell! Bitter and scorned, he transforms into a serpent and preys on Eve, egging her to bite from the cursed fruit that the Tree of Knowledge bears.

Eve realizes her mistake too late and tearfully confesses to Adam, who in turn, bites the apple as well. She is his companion and he her’s, they are humans and they love each other, he will always love her, he will love her IN SPITE of her sin, if they will die, then they shall die together.

Successful in his mission, Lucifer returns back to Hell to rejoice with his other fallen brethren! Oh how his plan worked! That will show God how imperfect his humans truly are! They could not listen to him, not as dutifully and devoutly as an angel could! (Though, he does not follow God any longer, he cannot as he is no longer a TRUE angel, something that he so claimed was so far removed from a human, how different is he truly from them then?)

But what Lucifer does not understand is that God does not love humanity because they trust him, because they follow him. No, he loves them because he gave them the freedom to choose, to live, to decide their own fate and their own lives. He loves them for their freewill, not because they are mindless drones.

God forgives Adam and Eve for he sees the love that humanity can hold for each other, how they are willing to die together, to sin and face death, face God’s wrath than to be alone, to be apart. He sentences them to Earth, alive but no longer able to communicate with God, no longer able to hear God’s word.

One day, Lucifer stumbles upon the true first woman, Lilith, while slithering the Earth, full of humans and breeding ground for sin to which he found he flourishes on now, and they share their stories. He was curious about her rejection of God, about her doubt of his knowledge and power, not because he felt the same, but more so because he doubted his judgment.

(Lilith doubts God’s knowledge. Lucifer doubts God’s judgment)

Nevertheless, they both have been, in their eyes, failed by God.

Eventually their mutual comradely blossomed into love, though Lucifer would never say he fell in love with a human, Lilith was much more than that. In his eyes, she wasn’t. But whether the Devil viewed her as human or not, she was, undeniably, mortal and eventually died.

Lucifer was there to greet her in Hell.

They ruled together but their reasons for even BEING there were rlly diff. Lucifer was doing this to just stick it to God bc he was just super fucking pissy and hurt that God loved humans more than he loved him (while Lillith though God was a stupid doo-doo head)

So after ruling over Hell for YEARS AND YEARS AND YEARS, Lilith slowly began to take more control of Hell and Lucifer sorta took a back seat, it was a gradual thing. It wasn't like Lillith was like “GIMME THIS, YOU SUCK” No no no, it wasn’t like that all. IT WAS NATURAL!!!!!

(“Lilith thrived, empowering demonkind with her voice and her songs. And as the numbers of Hell grew, so did its power.”)

The more demons in Hell sorta put a strain on their relationship [CAUSE STILL UNKNOWN]

Hell was getting more and more demons everyday and Heaven, fearful of their growing numbers, issued a means of population control in Hell- yearly cleansing (exterminations).

==============

Lucifer hates humans (and Sinners in Hell), wants to rule like REALLY harshly. Torture and the whole 9 yards.

But because Lilith was human before and since she only doesn’t like GOD (not humans) she sorta wants to rule the ppl,,,,, justly and stuff? Like the whole reason she doesn’t like God is because she didn’t think he was a good Lord of his creations, so she wants to make sure she isn’t being this AlL-kNoWiNg asshole.

**(Lucifer doesn’t hate God, hates humans

**Lillith doesn’t hate humans, hates God)

The Exterminations is the sorta the straw that broke the camel’s back in terms of Lucifer and Lilith’s relationship tbh. Bc Lucifer doesn’t care at ALL if Heaven kills the demons or whatever bc he hates their asses, he literally pulls out a lawn chair and just watches haha

Meanwhile it’s literally the most STRESSFUL day of the year for Lillith bc those are her fucking PEOPLE

(Not that she cares about them or anything, it’s mainly just a huge embarrassment for HER bc God is ordering this and it basically shows that he STILL has more power over her, despite everything)

Once Lucifer takes a back seat in ruling, the best thing I can compare it to is like when married couples on the verge of divorce don't sleep in the same bed together anymore

This is reflected in how they raise Charlie and her beliefs.

—

Charlie was created, not born. She was molded and shaped from the brimstone and ores of Hell.

Lucifer and Lilith literally MADE a kid. Like a whole ass child-sized doll and brought it to life with satanic magic. (It took a couple tries haha)

Charlie grew up in a very belief clashing household (Lucifer wants her/made her kill and torture demons/humans. Lillith wanted her to rule sorta strictly and BETTER than God like how she does)

Lilith rules in a VERY specific and orderly way (seriously, it's almost NEUROTIC) and made sure to DRILL this into Charlie’s head growing up so she could rule in the same way but this unintentionally caused Charlie to care about the people of Hell as a result (bc she was constantly considering how her ruling/actions would affect the ppl)

BUT bc of how Lucifer made her think (w being more powerful/stronger than the humans and demons and killing them and stuff all the time), Charlie does unknowingly see the people of Hell as below her and babies them. Doesn’t even realize she thinks that.

Charlie is like the worst parts of both of them LOL

(I'm not saying she's a bad person, I just think it'd be better if her flaws addd something more to the plot. I think Charlie unknowingly treating others as less than her not only helps reinforce her position as daughter of the Devil BUT ALSO can fit well with the fact that she would rather try to solve other peoples' problems instead of her own- she wants to help people!!!! But!!!! Goes about it in wrong ways and usually fails but keeps trying!!!!!

—

Charlie wants to reform Sinners so they can avoid the Exterminations because she cares about them (goes abt helping them in the wrong way tho (ex. Instead of talking out their problems and getting to the root of it, she’d just put them in a time-out haha))

Lucifer will HATE this fucking idea. Not only does Charlie wanna HELP HUMANS, she wants them to get to Heaven, THE PLACE HE IS BANISHED FROM

In the first season (as I've said before), Lucifer isn't gonna be seen at ALL, he'll be mentioned form time to time but other than that, he's not seen. He doesn't want anything to do with the hotel or with what Charlie is doing regarding it, he does love her and she loves him but their relationship is just.............. super strained, more so after Lilith disappeared

(But dw, they'll rekindle their relationship later on :)

#my art #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel rewrite #charlie morningstar #lucifer morningstar #lilith morningstar #adam hazbin hotel #eve hazbin hotel #tw hazbin hotel #lucilith #is it obvious that I kept Eve's part in the story kinda vague bc I have no idea what canon is gonna do with her yet HAHAHA #hazbin motel

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