#pride of the celestial realm

[krystaljasper]

[brokendreamscreation]

You truly sure you can keep your friend out of harm's reach, angel? It was quite lovely in seeing how everyone reacted to their death once before, I wonder how it be if that happen again? So fragile of a human Pride has a become hmm? Too bad strangling wasn't enough but oh well, perhaps next time when out of eyes of you and their dragon then.

Send me questions you have about my character!

Hearing the sinister taunting of the voice, Lucid’s fists tightened at his sides. Six blue wings unfurled as the angel’s cheerful air became defensive, ridged. “So…you’re the one that killed Pride? Bold of you to come here gloating of your sin. Or rather down right stupid. He may have been reborn as a human, but do not underestimate either Pride nor Venus. Lucifer may have been fooled once but he will not be so easily done in again.”

Dozens of eyes open along Lucid’s blue wings, his halo splitting into two rings that tilt around a single light glowing at the center of it. Lifting his chin, the seraph spoke defiantly, an ethereal echo to each word uttered. “I will do all in my power to keep Pride and Venus safe. Do not think me weak, filthy cretin. For I am not the same angel that came to this universe over 3 decades ago. My mentors have been Archangel Michael, Simeon, Pride, and others. It is not Pride’s life that is at stake, but yours. “An eye for an eye, a life for a life.” So pray for when your time comes, because I will not be merciful if it is I that has the chance to end your existence. Permanently.”

@pupmusebox

[rae-writes]

angelic alteration

om brothers x reader

wc : 1.k

warnings: nsfw, corruption kink based

synopsis : when Solomon and Diavolo can't fix the problem, it's up to Mc

a/n : thought the angel event (og) could use some more spice so I poured my entire spice rack on it

“Mc…I’m afraid we have bad news.”

You sighed into the receiver, “Yeah? You guys can’t reverse the magic, can you?”

“Nope!” Solomon chirped cheerfully, “Diavolo and Michael’s magic mixed together too strongly for us to reverse ourselves. You’ll just have to wait for them to go back to normal, or…”

“Or…what?”

“Well, this is just a theory, but what if you just corrupted the angelic magic and forced their demonic sides back out?”

“Corrupted, huh..? I like the sound of that.”

†

“I can feel the magic trying to stop me…how. stupidly. annoying.” Lucifer accentuated each word of his complaint with a sharp thrust, face pinched in concentration as sweat beaded at his temple. 

He’d be damned if something as trivial as a hexed bracelet from the celestial realm kept him from indulging in you, the one temptation he would never dare ignore. 

Your nails dug crescent moons into his shoulders, thighs squeezing at his hips tightly as you moaned and panted beneath him. “Lu-ci-fer! S-slow d-own!” 

He growled and sped up in response, snapping his hips into you harshly, “How dare they try to turn me back? I am the Avatar. Of. Pride!” Once again, each word was accentuated with a thrust, making his cock hit deeper and deeper each time. 

And he was so fucking proud each time he had you a moaning mess underneath him, crying out his name, begging him not to stop— you made his sin flood his entire body every time. 

An electric charge cracked through the air for a brief second before the bangle broke in half, magic forcibly shattering under Lucifer’s sheer prowess. 

He grinned sharply, capturing your legs against your chest in a mating press as he went even harder. His wings shedded to black, spanning out proudly behind him as the halo melted down into his horns. 

“I’m going to ruin you, do you hear me? You’re not leaving this bed- not tonight, or in the morning, or maybe even until tomorrow afternoon…I’m keeping you until I’ve had my fill.”

†

The sight of Mammon’s blue eyes peering up while his mouth was busy pleasuring you had always been a pretty sight— the shimmering halo was only a little bonus this time. 

But you wanted his horns to hold onto. “Just like that, Mams…doing so well, pretty boy.” Your hips rocked over his mouth, grinning down at him with gold flickering in your eyes. 

He was all about giving now that the bangle had taken hold, which even before, Mammon always keened when you sat on his face and just used him. 

The second born was moaning and whining and whimpering against your skin as his tongue lapped up everything he could, “Mmph- like this? ‘M I doing good, Mc?” 

“Y-yeah, baby, fuck— so good…” you carded your fingers through Mammon’s hair, feeling him get more and more excited before you lifted up off his face. 

And he was absolutely distraught with the lack of your taste, desperate cry leaving him as he tried to chase after you. “No, no, no! Mc, please, come back— wasn’t done, wanna taste you still, wanna make you feel good, please!” 

The laugh you let out made him whine even louder, fingers gripping frantically at your thighs. It was like a switch flipped, magic being overtaken by his greed. 

His eyes flickered gold like yours, a whiny growl escaping him. He forced you on your back within a second, mouth working at you even more desperately now as he held you down and took what he wanted— and he wanted to make you cum. 

“Jus’ let me, please let me make you cum— you taste so good, Mc, I don’t wanna stop. Want you to scream my name and yank my hair, grip my horns, just give me more- more, more, more!” 

†

A small shriek left Levi when you rammed against his prostate, hiccuped cries of your name following. His back arched, wings flaring out behind him, making you hit even deeper spots inside of him. 

With his new attitude, he’d been letting everyone else spend time with you and he was finally feeling the built up envy creep along his spine, right beside the spikes of pleasure. 

“Aww…look at you. So sweet for me, huh? Why so shy, Levi? Wasn’t this what you meant about strengthening connections?” 

Garbled sounds left him, courtesy of your fingers stuffed in his mouth. His eyes rolled back, hands gripping at your hips desperately, though it wasn’t clear if he was pushing you away or pulling you closer.

“How am I gonna know I’m doing good if you don’t tell me, ‘vi? C’mon, sweet thing, tell me. Or do you not want me?” 

It was like you asked the unthinkable. A loud whine left him and his tail returned, knocking the halo right off his head before it coiled around your abdomen. 

“No! I want you, I want you so badly, please keep fucking me— don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop!” Diamond shaped scales scattered across his body as the magic wore out. 

You cooed, thrusting into him sharply, making his body lurch, “Good boy, Leviathan..” 

†

“Fuck!” Satan cries out, fingers digging into his white wings to try and keep them from fluttering. His back arched almost painfully, loudly begging you to keep going. 

“Oh, look at you…” the coos that left you made him flush red, giving you a great sense of satisfaction. This was the most he’d been riled up since putting that ridiculous bangle on.

Your thighs were burning at the unforgiving pace you were riding him at, beads of sweat splashing onto his skin, so you decided to change the game a little. 

“Come on, Tannie, if you want it, work for it.” You settled your weight on top of him, ceasing your movements as you cockwarmed him instead. 

A displeased growl comes from the back of his throat, eyes snapping open with a glowing green. “Mc, move! Please!” 

Slowly, the halo above his head began to flicker and dim before it shattered, dissipating in the air. Another growl escaped him as his wings followed suit, tail lashing out like a whip. 

“That’s it— c’mon-!” You gasped when he yanked you forwards, chest pressing against his as his tail locked you in place. The only sounds that could leave you now were broken moans as he fucked you almost viciously. 

“You know how I feel about you fucking. teasing. me. Feels good doesn’t it? Yeah? Cause I’m not stopping. ‘M not stopping until I physically can’t fuck you anymore— fuck, I needed you.” 

†

Unabashed moans echo off the walls of Asmo’s bathroom as the fifth born writhes under your touch. The sound of water sloshing makes his cheeks burn fiery red and the sound of you moaning back at him makes it even worse. 

“W-wait! You d-don’t have to— oh!” 

“Shh, Azzy…’m just taking care of you. You were so hard and aching…could see it even though you tried to hide under the water.” 

The white feathers ruffled with pleasure (slowly shedded away and turning back), hips jerking frantically to chase the pleasure. The bangle’s magic was completely buried under how hot you made him feel and the feeling of you licking along the edges of his leathery wings increased it ten fold. 

“Yes, Mc, like that— don’t stop, just like that, just like that!” Amso curled over on you, horns knocking against your shoulder as he cried out even louder. 

You fisted his cock harder and swiped your thumb over the tip relentlessly, “Yeah? Made you feel so good, you corrupted yourself, huh? Pretty little Azzy…come on, cum.” 

The squeal he let out cracked halfway through, broken cries of your name following like a mantra. His hand encased yours, making sure you didn’t stop jerking him off. 

“K-keep going, don’t stop! Wanna cum for you again ‘n again, gotta make up for when I was giving you away to the others, please, please, let me cum again for you!”

†

“H-haaah…ah! M-Mc…what’re you..o-oh..doing?” 

“You said it made you happier seeing others get to eat, so…” you hummed, licking your lips before digging your tongue back into the slit of his cock, “I’m just..enjoying my meal…” 

Beel had always lost his cool when you went down on him, finding your mouth to be too good at pleasuring him. The growl he let out was something only a demon could make. 

The glowing of the bangle did nothing to deter you— in fact, you only laughed and peered up at him with the red sin of gluttony swirling through your irises. With another hum, you enveloped his cock in your mouth and forced your head as far down as you could, swallowing around him. 

He tried so hard to not buck into your mouth or grip at your head as the magic worked to keep his ravenous nature at bay, but…that’s just not who he was anymore. 

“C’mon, Beelie…want you to cum in my mouth, I wanna taste you..pretty please? Let me have it…” 

A low groan fell past his lips, hips finally jerking up and accidentally making you choke. A rushed apology was given as his fingers tangled in your hair and gently guided your head at a faster pace. 

The beating of his insectual wings was rapid as he got closer, magic completely dissipating when he let out a sound akin to a small roar, grabbing at his own horns when he came. 

Watching you pull away with visibly stuffed cheeks, slowly working on swallowing it all (though drops still ran down your chin) made a sharp pang shoot through him. 

“Thank you…you always make me feel so good, Mc…but..now ‘m hungry. Let me return the favor..wanna taste you too.” 

†

“A-are you sure…this is o-okay?” Belphie chokes out quietly, hands pressing down on your hips to keep you pinned to the bed with your knees bent to your sides. 

Your fingers curl in the sheets, body lurching forward at each thrust, “yeah, ‘s okay— feels good, doesn’t it? You’re doing so good, Bel…” 

The clipped whines and gasps that Belphie was making made his cheeks flair with an embarrassed flush; but you were right. It felt so. fucking. good. And he didn’t think he ever wanted to stop. 

Through the pleasure, it was easy to ignore the glowing bangle on his wrist and the voice in the back of his head telling him that he should have more reservations- that he shouldn’t be doing this— that voice wasn’t even his. Belphie wanted this, he did! 

As your hands stretched back to claw at his lower stomach, you moaned out his name and wiggled your hips, begging him to go faster. 

“Please, Bel…know you can go f-faster than this, want you to fuck me— please, please, please! Don’t wan’ you to be an angel, want you to be my demon again-!” 

Magic cracked in the air, sending the hair on the back of your neck rising before a familiar tail curled around your stomach and yanked your lower half higher up, forcing your chest further into the mattress. 

The attic bed creaked with the force he slammed into you at, whines mixing with growls now; his horns pressed against your skin as he rested his forehead against your back, making it arch even more. 

“Yeah? You want me to fuck you senseless again? Couldn’t even go a couple days without having me play with you, fuck, you’re such a slut for me.”

[ganondoodle]

( OC, Eadrya, they/them, water demon )

"Oh don't look at me like that, is this the first time you've drawn blood or what? do it again! had a nice sting to it-" (Eadrya to Shargon, likely the first time Shargon's ever dared to fight them instead of fleeing immediately like his life depended on it ... bc it did)

finally gave Eadrya their deserved post character arc design (instead of doing what i should be)

since i know my handwriting isnt always readable, heres a short an overly long explanation of the context (oops)

(recap, the demon world was invaded and is believed to be destroyed, Eadrya lost a fight for the first time in their life to a celestial and survived by sheer luck and kindness of a little fishing village in the human realm, which kind of broke their pride and kickstarted their arc- (here i drew the lady in charge of the village before, though Eadryas design here is also a little out of date again ..)

-skipping alot in between that and the end of their arc bc that would jsut be too long for this post)

Eadrya helped other Lords and Shargon (with Midas and Idri) escape from a trap set by hunters but was captured themself, since it was the first time hunters managed to catch a Lord they 'researched' alot about demons using them .. by torturing them (demons are not considered sentient by people at large)

they managed to escape but were hunted down immediately, even Eadrya with their immense magic overproduction and abillity to recover was too drained (both literally of their strength -since the most effective way to hurt/immobilize a demon is draining them of their magic/blood faster than they can recover it- AND mentally) to easily avoid them and instead turned to killing, making them relapse into their old bloodthirst which lead to them spiraling into thinking that it is all they are ever good for and they will never be able to change-

Thor (with Idri) were on their way to free them after being informed of Eadryas capture ( Thor is Eadryas best and only friend ) but when they arrived it had already escalated so far that they went after killing Thor as well, now firmly believing Thor was never their friend but was simply trying to tame them out of fear of their power (not completely wrong ..). despite Thor with his two hearts being able to give Eadrya a second chance they decide to go for killing him twice, unintentionally missing the second time but doing enough damage for Thor to .. essentially fall into a near death condition; thinking they actually killed him everything starts to fall apart further as they realize over time they have changed after all but it is too late now-

Eadrya then flees into a snowy mountain range far away and lives there in complete isolation for several months (as a sort of .. self punishment and convinced of that being the best choice for everyone, they are a danger, they have no one left anyway etc trying to cope with it all) and thus grows out their fur (yes they always had fur, just short and slick like a seals fur) which they keep even after reuniting with Thor and everyone else later down the line

(the golden rope they wear in the picture was made by Thor during the time he was recovering and searching for them with the solar pirates (long story..), its not a good quality but he tried his best ... the two beads on it symbolize Thors two hearts (thunder and fire, blue and red)- Eadrya treasures it dearly)

so funnily enough, despite looking much wilder now they are actually much better in their self control and general health :P

[vultursvolans]

— ☆ 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝚰𝐎𝐒𝚰𝐓𝐘 𝐊𝚰𝐋𝐋𝐒

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: you’ve seen lucifer’s demon form but you can’t shake the feeling that’s it’s not all he is. what if there was something darker beneath his beautiful visage? you ask to see more but lucifer warns you it may be too much for mortal eyes. as he slowly unveils the facets of his true self, you wonder if you can love something incomprehensible? and more importantly, can it love you back?

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: OM!LUCIFER x GN!reader, SFW but slightly suggestive, DARK ROMANCE ♥️, HORROR ELEMENTS, implied sex but no smut, established relationship but in the earlier stages, light angst, celestial war mention, he calls you ‘my dear’, demon x human, monster romance(?), ik my title is ‘curiosity kills’ but i promise no one dies 2.0k wc. | masterlist

𝐚/𝐧: woo! my first fic for 2025. halloween is long gone but spookyookyooky vibes are forever. i haven't written for lucifer (or the obey me fandom) since 2021 so please be kind! i love when artists draw the demons as monster-like so it inspired me to write this

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

They say curiosity killed the cat but nobody ever warns you what happens when the thing you seek is something you love. Sometimes curiosity doesn’t just kill, it pulls you into the depths and reminds you that some paths were never meant to be tread at all. 

You knew Lucifer’s demon form. Every time he brought it out, you couldn’t miss it. No one did. Those horns curling from his head, those raven wings that stretched with an elegance befitting for the pride incarnate, the diamond birthmark adorning his forehead. He looked every inch the fallen angel. Dangerous. Powerful. But still akin to something recognisable. Something human. That was what you thought his “demon form” meant, or at least the extent of it. 

But the closer you got to him, emotionally, physically—you suspected more. This was Lucifer, after all. The same Morning Star who watched the Celestial Realm itself fracture, the one who waged war and defied his own Father for his sister’s sake. Of course, there would be layers to him, parts hidden beneath polished veneers that he might not want you to see.

The revelation came gradually, though not accidentally. He’d never risk an accident with something like this. It wasn’t just about protecting you, it was also about managing what it would mean for him to be fully seen.

It began one night in his room. His usual form was already on display, horns casting long shadows on the walls as his wings arched lazily behind him. You were comfortable with this version of him, so much so that you’d leaned into his shoulder, tracing his horns absentmindedly as he read aloud from some aged, prodigious book. The question had been on your mind but you didn’t realise what you’d said until the words were out of your mouth. 

“Is there more?” You asked concretely.

He stilled, halting his finger mid-sentence against the page. “More?” his voice was neutral like always. 

“Of… this,” you gestured vaguely at him. “Your form. You expect me to believe this is the Avatar of Pride’s only face?”  

The jest was meant to lighten the mood, but he didn’t laugh. Instead, he closed the book and turned his gaze on you. His eyes burned a little brighter—sharper. “What you see now is what I allow you to see. There are parts of me not meant for human eyes,” he said softly. 

“So you’ve locked those parts away?”

“Not locked,” he corrected you. “Contained. Managed.”

That should have been the end of it but you couldn’t let it go. Not after seeing a flicker of hesitation in his face. Or perhaps it was fear. So you would’ve let it go until you wondered: 

What could possibly unnerve Lucifer?

———

The first time he showed you, it was brief. Something of a test. 

“Don’t move,” he instructed, “And don’t look away.”

You stood in his study, your heart pounding as he stepped back, seeing his usual form dissolve into something more. His wings expanded, shifting like spilled ink on water. His horns lengthened, spiraling like gnarled roots of an oak tree, and his skin took on a strange sheen, as though it couldn’t decide whether it was flesh or something far older. 

But it was his eyes that terrified you. The whites were gone, replaced by an endless, tormenting black. You felt like you were being pulled into them, swallowed by the power of something vast and unknowable.

However, there was also heat that felt familiar, pressing into you like his breath fanning over your skin in the dead of night, when his hands explored every crevice on your body. This form, alien as it was, still carried the same possessive hunger. You had to grip onto the edge of a nearby table to steady yourself.  

And then, as quickly as it came, it receded. His wings folded back, his horns shrank and his eyes returned to that familiar crimson. “Enough for tonight,” you were assailed by the sound of his shoes clicking against the hardwood as he made his way to you. 

Something, he thought, was not quite right. You were shaken, yes, but not disturbed. He had expected you to avert your eyes, to flinch or look away lest the weight of his true form crush your sanity. Yet you watched him with defiance in your expression and more unsettling still, he found himself watching you back. What was it that kept you here? What had driven you to face something so unnatural and still hold your ground?

———

The second time was different. 

You were sitting at the edge of his bed with your legs tucked beneath you. His shirt hung loosely on your frame as the scent of him clung to the fabric. Much like other nights, you’d spent this one wrapped around each other until exhaustion claimed you both.

Lucifer suddenly tugged at his shirt and after your eyes fell on him, you felt something gnawing in your stomach. But you were surprised when he only asked with a casual cadence, 

“Do you trust me?”

You nodded like it was perfectly normal to place your earnest trust in a demon like him. You’d already given yourself to him in every way that mattered, baring your soul just as he had bared his body to you time and time again.

Fond with your answer, he stood up and smiled. “Then close your eyes.”

When you opened them, the world felt…wrong.

What you saw had to have been a dream-picture because his form was towering enough to barely fit the space and his wings no longer looked like they belonged to anything earthly. The feathers were shifting, like they had been replaced by shards of black glass catching onto nonexistent light. His horns gleamed like molten metal and his face wasn’t entirely his. It was flickering between the Lucifer you knew and something you couldn’t name but felt in the deepest part of your being. 

The diamond on his forehead began to glow, its light blotting shapes in all angles. And then it split, revealing a vertical slit of an unblinking eye that stared into you—not at you, but into you, through you.

Somewhere in between you must’ve hauled yourself onto the floor and stumbled back because your knees were not on the mattress anymore but on wood. A pressure built in your chest but you simply couldn’t look away.

Lucifer didn’t speak, he just watched you like before but this time you felt as though every secret you’d ever buried was laid bare. It wasn’t until he eventually spoke your name that you realised you were crying.

“Breathe,” he said, kneeling before you. His voice was echoing like it was coming from inside you. “I told you it wasn’t meant for human eyes. We can stop.”

“It’s okay, it’s just…a lot,” you said, trembling but not from the cold.

He approached you, his hand eerily warm against your cheek as he wiped your tears and helped you to your feet. “You’re doing better than most would. I’m proud of you.” 

“Does it ever hurt?” you swallowed hard, like there was rough rope lodged down your throat. The change was not as graceful as you thought it would be. It came ripping out of him like it was something he constantly suppressed. 

“No,” you heard a break of vulnerability in his display. “But it can be lonely.”

“Lonely?” 

“It is a grave reminder that demons exist to fear. Sometimes to worship. But never to love.”

Never to love because defending love was what made him this way.

Once respite had settled, a look of sullen reflection had overcome Lucifer’s face, wondering if this left you with little desire to see more. 

———

Before the third time came, he warned you about the strain it might put on your mind, “This time might be dangerous.” But you insisted and he remained cautious. 

When it happened, it wasn’t in the confines of his room but outside, beneath the yawning void of the Devildom’s starless sky. He told you it would be safer this way. For both of you.

His transformation hit you like a violent wind. Lucifer didn’t just change, he expanded uncontainably into something monstrous, his body shimmering like a dark mirage. His horns were jagged spires, sharp enough to cleave through the Celestial Palace itself and you couldn’t see where his wings ended and began—only that they were folding and unfolding like obsidian knives. 

Then, there was his mouth that stretched wider than it should have, revealing rows of teeth too sharp, too numerous. They weren’t made for smiling, they were meant to tear and consume, a predator’s maw lurking beneath his visage. And his eyes—or the absence of them—were blackened husks whilst the unblinking eye on his forehead sat like an all-seeing sigil. 

Shadows pulsed into your vision, pooling at your feet and reaching for you like they knew your name. The sheer magnitude of Lucifer’s form left you breathless. If this was the strength of someone who served second to Diavolo, then what maddening power must the Prince of the Devildom truly possess? And beyond even that, the Demon King himself—origin of all darkness. The thought had chills coiling around your spine and you thanked the Heavens he was resting in his indefinite slumber. 

Yet strangely, in all that horror, there was beauty. Lucifer’s voice called to you like a melody and his vibrating presence, for all its terror, might have even felt soothing. It was magnificent. 

“Are you afraid?” he asked from everywhere and nowhere. A question that wasn’t meant to frighten but rather a lifeline, a chance to retreat before you fell any deeper. 

You should have been. Any rational being would have been. But instead, you took a step closer and reached out to the impossibility of his form. You touched something, though whether it was his face, his chest, or his soul, you weren’t sure.

“No,” you said between awe and surrender. “Never.” 

At that moment, you understood what it meant to love a creature who stood at the precipice of an existence that could shatter you with mere thought. 

“You are the first to see this and not run. You reach for the flame, knowing it will burn you,” he spoke like the deep roll of a bell. 

 “How could I not?” You didn’t step back, what was left of your willpower rooted you to the ground. “You’ve never been anything less than this. I could feel it.”

For a fleeting second, you saw the disintegration of his monstrous form, red eyes flickering through black ones as his pride briefly softened in the quiet between you. His wings faltered, a deep inhuman sigh escaping his lips. It was the first time you'd seen him so... uncertain.

“You think you know me so well? They say I am nothing but contradictions. Do you think love could redeem something like me? I could destroy you without meaning to,” this time he laughed but you knew this wasn’t anything he found funny. In fact, it hurt him to think there was any part of him that could cause you to recoil from the truth of what he was.

“But you haven’t because you don’t want to.” Again, his figure quickly distorted into something you were more familiar with. “Has it ever crossed your mind that I never wanted perfection, Lucifer?”

“Then what is it you want from me, if not to run?”

Your heart wound tight, it wasn’t difficult to tell him but you weren’t entirely sure if he’d even believe it. “Just you.”

He said nothing whilst your nostrils flared. “Just you,” you repeated.  

Lucifer's unblinking eye narrowed, its glow dimming just slightly as if your words had managed to reach that inscrutable part of him. “You walk the line between courageous and naive, my dear.” 

“Then I suppose it’s naive of me to hope you’re walking with me.” 

A faint pause. His wings shimmered behind him, his hesitation was palpable but not binding. “If you would dare to take such steps, then you will not tread alone.” 

It was resolute, his words settling like an oath.

Curiosity, they said, kills the cat. But in this case, it didn't. It brought you to a place you'd never thought you'd find. Lurking in the darkness of his true form, where love had no place for so long, you found the first glint of light.

A dark, dangerous light, but a light nonetheless.

© 2025 grimmweepers — do not repost, copy, translate, modify my work on any platform.

more a/n: i’m fascinated by eldritch/lovecraftian horror, can you tell?

divider: @/adornedwithlight

networks: @pixelcafe-network @houseofsolisoccasum

tagging you bc you kindly asked eep @sugurouge

[peonysgreenhouse]

-`♡´- return.

summary: the obey me brothers react to mc coming back to life!

tags: obey me brothers x gn!reader, hurt/comfort, implied character death

i. lucifer

lucifer quietly steps into diavolo’s office, his usual professional mask quickly slipping onto his face, mouth set in a firm line as his eyes wander about the room. he freezes where he is when he sees who diavolo is talking to.

a familiar side profile, those kind eyes and soft lips he remembers so well, and he feels his breath hitch in his throat. this wasn’t real, he saw you die in front of his eyes. just how could you be here right now?

“lucifer!” you call, his presence being made known by diavolo, who grins wide upon seeing lucifer’s mesmerized expression. “oh, i missed you so, i–” you grip onto him tight, lucifer hesitating to return your affection out of both fear and regret. surely, he’d wake up any moment now in his own room and see that this was all a dream, remembering he had similar dreams after lilith’s fall. oh how his heavenly father liked to torment him so, even now.

“how did you…?” he clenches his jaw to keep himself from breaking. not in front of diavolo, not in front of you could he cry. lucifer hadn’t cried in eons, not since he was cast out of the celestial realm, but now, more than ever, he feels the weight of centuries of living creeping up on him, bubbling to the surface like a pressure he had let simmer for an eternity. “it’s really…?”

“it’s really me…” you whisper, putting your hand on his cheek. his hand comes up to cover your own, wishing he could shred the glove so he could feel the warmth of your hand on his. “it’s hard to believe, right? i was in the celestial realm for a while but… then i got sent back down here.” lucifer’s eyes flick to diavolo, who sits back in his chair with a smug grin on his face. he’s sure he now owes him two lifetimes worth of debts, one that he’d gladly work to pay off. you being here was worth more to him than anything the three realms had to offer.

“you’re never leaving again, understand?” his tone is more desperate than commanding, linking his fingers with yours. his other hand touches the spot where your mark is from making a pact with him, an eternal reminder that you both were connected. “from now until forever, you’re staying at my side.” 

you laugh breathily: “yes, i’m yours, lucifer.”

ii. mammon

an unexpected knock at the door resounds through the hall. he doesn’t have the energy to get up and open it, knowing it was probably asmodeus out from a wild night out. hearing the knocks once again, he sighs, slinking over and throwing the door open, ready to snap at whoever is there.

when he’s greeted by your smiling face, eyes bright and glittering as you choke out words that he’s been dreaming of hearing ever since that night you died, he grips the door so tight that it threatens to shatter under his grip. lucifer stands behind you, his arm linked with yours and the brightest smile he’s seen on his older brother since the days spent in heaven. 

he doesn’t care if he’s imagining things, he doesn’t care if it’s just a cruel illusion – mammon is greedy. he reaches out and pulls you out of lucifer’s grasp, holding you tight against his chest like you'd slip out of his arms if he let go. his breath hitches in his throat, hands running up and down your body, trying to commit this feeling to memory in case it turns out his hunch is right.

a flurry of emotions runs through his head, he has the urge to be angry that you left him, if only you could see the lengths he went to to get you back, all the restless nights spent bargaining with witches in back alleys and dark places. but he’s always cared for you more than he’s cared for his own pride, maybe even more than he’s cared for his own self. if this were an illusion he’s damn sure he’d sign over his own life to make it real, if even for a moment.

“hey,” your voice is more gentle than he remembers, “i’m here, i’m back, mammon.” when you push him back gently to cradle his face, he shatters, bursting into a fit of loud and childish sobs. he doesn’t care, he doesn’t worry about how pathetic he might’ve looked to you, you were back in his arms. 

iii. leviathan

levi hardly ever left his room, not since the night you had died. he only came out when he needed to eat, or when lucifer would forcefully drag him to class. the days were long and dull, not even TSL seemed to make him light up anymore – it was much too painful to face the world without his henry at his side.

he gets curious one night when he hears the sobs of his older brother downstairs; had something else happened? stepping out of his room, he could’ve never imagined seeing the sight in front of him: mammon sobbing in your arms, lucifer stroking your hair from behind, the two brothers sandwiching you in like a vice.

it’s you, his breaths grow shaky as he nearly jumps over the banister trying to get to you, it’s his henry, his best friend, his–

“you left me, but you’re–!” he quickly pulls mammon aside, tears of his own pricking at the corner of his eyes. “you’re back… why did you leave me? why did you–?” his tone is harsh, but the way he’s gripping onto your shirt, fists balled up and tugging you out of lucifer’s grip and into his chest, you know he’s more upset with himself than anything.

“…promise me you won’t leave me again,” his voice is small, and it has fresh tears running down your cheeks.

“i promise.”

iv. asmodeus

he comes home late, in the hours where the devildom was at it’s darkest, smelling of alcohol and the perfume of other demons. fully expecting another lecture from lucifer, he tries to open the door as quietly as possible, slinking through the doorway, making his silent entrance. as he sneaks up the stairs and towards his room, he sees that the door to your room was open.

that’s odd, he thinks, but not entirely strange – mammon would often tuck himself away under your covers, sleeping in your room as it was like a second home to him, even when you were gone. 

but then he hears it, the sound he so often dreamed of, so often tried to pull out of others as his fingers danced down their sides, but it was never the same. your laughter. 

he hurries in, a sight in front of him he never thought he would see again: you with your head in lucifer’s lap, levi cuddled up beside you, mammon hugging tight to your other side. as your eyes snap up to meet asmodeus’s, he feels his cheeks heat up, the shame of what he’s done since you’ve been gone creeping up on him slowly. 

but then you’re up and running to him, latching onto him like a vice and he finds himself smiling, the warmness of your body against his melting away his guilty thoughts like snow in the spring. 

“it’s about time you came back,” he kisses you over and over, not missing an inch of your face. you taste salty, and he doesn’t know who’s tears he’s tasting at that point – yours or his. “you’re mine. don’t you ever think about leaving again, ‘kay?”

v. satan

a quiet knock at his door in the early hours of the morning alerts him, and he stiffens, knowing it was probably lucifer here to check up on him. the thought of seeing his brother made him sick, so he continues reading his book as if he heard nothing.

“can i come in?” a soft voice that sounds like yours asks. has he lost it? has he been awake for so long now that he had finally slipped out of sanity? if he tells you to come in, it doesn’t register until the light from the outside hallway makes its way into his room, satan hissing at the way it blinds him.

the way the light wraps around you makes you look not much different than an angel, ethereal and as radiant as the sun. you reach down and touch his cheek, noticing how hollow his cheekbones and how dark the circles under his eyes are. he hadn’t been taking care of himself, had he?

“satan, i’m here,” you smile down at him gently, “i missed you. i missed you so much.”

“you… you’re actually alive?” he heart beats wildly in his chest, “but… but i researched this and… and it said there was no hope! how can you be here now?”

“i’ll explain later.” you kneel in front of him, hand still on his cheek. “now, i just want to see you.”

he wants to be angry at you. he wants to scream at you until his throat is burning, wants to make you feel every second of agony he had felt since the moment you died. but he can’t, no matter how angry he was at himself for his failures, he could never take that out on you. “this is real, right?” he grits his teeth, sure you could hear how fast his heart was beating. “i’m not going to wake up and you be gone, right?”

“i’m not leaving you, satan.” you shake your head, “not now, not ever.”

he finally cracks, pulling you into his lap and burying his face into your neck. you smell just how he remembers, and he pulls you close, close, closer until you’re flush against him. even then it’s not close enough.

satan doesn’t trust himself to speak, no words seeming accurate to say how he felt in the moment. he lets the tender moment pass by in silence, until his brothers come in after deciding the both of you had enough alone time.

vi. beelzebub

the darkness of the devildom starts to wash away as the morning hours come. of course, it was never truly bright as it was on earth. beel finds himself waking up after another nightmare, hand clutching at his pillow like he would often clutch onto your hand when he had dreams of lilith. 

in his dreams he sees you, shining like you always did, snuggled up against his chest. in the next moment, he sees blood staining your clothes, eyes wide in horror as you beg him to save you. beel is never quick enough, dying before he even had the chance to touch you, the last words of yours as cruel as a knife to the gut: why didn’t you save me?

beel makes his way to the kitchen, having left quietly as to not wake up belphie. he’s sure that it was levi’s turn to cook breakfast – not that levi would actually do it. levi didn’t leave his room unless forced to, after all. beelzebub could at least take over that job for him.

he passes by the common room, hunger pains keeping him from checking to see what his brothers were doing convened in there.

“oh, beel!” beelzebub whips around at the sound of your voice. he could never forget, not in a million years, just how sweet you sounded. like the brightest symphony or the softest lullaby. after you died, he found himself replaying your recorded phone calls with him over and over, to soothe him before he fell asleep.

“you’re… alive?” his eyes widen, and you pull yourself out of asmodeus’s lap to sprint to beel, who easily catches you in his arms, hoisting you in the air and spinning you around. tears prick at the corner of his eyes, and he crushes you into his chest. 

“yes, i’m here beel!” your voice is a bit strained due to how hard he’s squeezing you. 

“i’m sorry for not protecting you,” he whispers, “it’s my fault you were–”

“it’s not your fault.” beel leans down, letting you run your fingers through his hair, “not for lilith… not for me. none of it’s your fault. you did all you could.”

he smiles a watery smile, hands still strong around your waist: “thank you.”

vii. belphegor

as most nights go, belphie dreams about you. his head resting in your lap, your soft hands threading through his hair– it’s pure bliss, and he wants to cling to the dream as long as he can.

in fact, if he concentrates hard enough, he can feel something stroking his head in real life, his head resting on a surface both familiar and alien– did his favorite pillow always feel like this? but soon, beel’s voice pierces through the gauze, tearing his dream apart, and belphie opens his eyes.

blinking irritably, it takes him a second to process what’s going on– beel is smiling in a way he hasn’t seen in years. and his head is resting in your lap. you’re gazing down at him, something tender in your eyes, beel by your side.

it’s a dream. it has to be. there is no way you can be here, that you can be real– you were gone, and he was stuck, going around and around in his own head uselessly– but then you breathe, “belphie, i’m home,” and he turns and hugs you so hard you fall back on the bed, startled.

there is a flurry of limbs, of movement– beel has wrapped his arms around you from behind, and belphie is clinging to your front, head pressed in the crook of your neck, hands running all over to make sure you’re real.

hasn’t he wanted this moment forever? his two favorite people in the world, by his side? he doesn’t need an explanation, a reason. in fact, he’s sure mammon or lucifer will storm in in a couple more minutes, and he will have to tear himself from your side. belphie will have to share you with his five less lovable brothers.

but for now, you are his again. and it is enough.

[devildomwriter]

Christmas Morn’ Again | Others x Reader

2.1K Word Count | GN! Reader | CW: Children

Previous

Solomon x Reader

Christmas morning smelled like many things. Candy canes, gingerbread, sugar cookies…today it did not. You sat straight up in bed to be greeted by the faces of your sons and their father holding a tray of food.

You stared at it for a second and your sons recognized the fear in your eyes.

“We made it for you!”

“Daddy didn’t help at all!”

They reassured you and you breathed a sigh of relief.

“Isn’t that thoughtful of them?” Solomon asked. “They really wouldn’t let me help they were so determined to make you happy all on their own.”

You hugged your sons more tightly than usual that day, having escaped your husband’s traditional breakfast in bed on Christmas morning.

Your sons began to roughhouse as Solomon set up everything in the living room and you ate your warm waffles which your sons had done an amazing job with. You wondered where they got their culinary skills, you were just glad it wasn’t from their father.

After you finished your waffles you set your tray aside and held out your hands for your sons to take.

They excitedly pulled you into the living room and gasped in delight at the presents under the tree. They quickly broke away from you and slid on their knees to their individual piles.

Solomon smiled and handed you a mug of hot cocoa that you pretended to drink as you relaxed into his side watching your children open their gifts.

The two were so much like their father, asking for educational toys and books for Christmas instead of video games and money. It made you proud and your heart felt full as you hugged your husband while they began flipping through their science books that Christmas day.

Simeon x Reader

You set an alarm for Christmas Day. You had much to prepare for before your children woke up. Simeon quickly silenced the alarm before anyone else heard it and he began your morning with a gentle kiss to your lips.

He wrapped his arms around you and quickly got out of bed to help you get dressed, helping to hide your hickies as he adjusted your Christmas Snuggie.

You parted from Simeon and began preparing breakfast as one by one Simeon began to rouse your many children.

The sounds of excitement grew louder and louder and before anyone else came downstairs your eldest son, Simon, came to check on you in the kitchen. He was a kind and helpful boy just like his father, your wonderful husband, Simeon. A literal angel.

There was no better way to spend Christmas Day than with a real angel so when Simeon appeared downstairs followed by your children you ran to him first and wrapped your arms around him.

Your daughters giggled while your sons mostly rolled their eyes and everyone made their way to the Christmas tree and excitedly waited for their father to begin handing out their gifts.

You let breakfast warm up and sat down on the couch wrapped in the warm Snuggie Simeon had gifted you years prior when Simon was just a newborn.

Simeon helped his littlest siblings sit upright as Simeon handed his gift to him, pride beaming in his eyes.

Even on a holiday as chaotic as Christmas, it was clear as day that the two of you were managing to raise your kids just right as they managed to wait patiently for you to take out your D.D.D.

Simeon sat with you and smiled as you began filming the room that erupted into excited squeals. You rested your head against Simeon and he kissed your forehead as you began your Christmas day.

Raphael x Reader

You’d never been so grateful for your silk robes as you were on Christmas morning when your son stood on his father’s bare chest waiting for you to wake up.

Raphael stared at his son, surprised he’d broken in and snuck up on him. Raphael was supposed to be the most efficient hitman in the Celestial Realm and its most skilled fighter but it was beginning to seem as though his son would quickly surpass that.

Raphael looked at you, relieved you’d redressed from the previous night; Raphael had not done the same so you quickly got out of bed to carry your son away so Raphael could redress.

Seconds later Raphael followed you out the door already dressed in winter pajamas that matched your red robe.

Rafal quietly asked to be put down so you set him on his feet and he nodded and looked at his father.

“You’re growing dull,” he commented and Raphael shook his head and tucked his son under his arm like a football.

“You can criticize me when you can beat me,” he advised and Rafal protested as his father carried him into the living room, deciding to take away his free-roaming privileges after barging into your room when he was naked beneath the sheets.

Rafal was finally sat down and Raphael breathed a tired sigh and gently led you to the couch and wrapped a blanket around you.

“I’ll get some milk,” he said and Rafal bounded on his knees excitedly as he waited for his father to bring him a refreshing drink.

Raphael came back and handed a glass to his son and a glass to you before sitting down, leaning back into the couch, and wrapping an arm around you.

You snuggled in closer, head against his chest as his son excitedly unwrapped his gifts.

You knew Raphael had gotten his son a special gift from the Celestial Realm but when he unwrapped a set of throwing daggers you stared at Raphael in shock who was beaming with pride as his son cheered.

You sighed and decided to leave it be for now and let the two enjoy Christmas as you took pictures of your happy family.

Mephistopheles x Reader

The early birds screeched as the moon shone brightly in the sky. You sometimes missed the bluebird and robins soft songs but you were used to it after so many years in the Devildom with your husband.

You were shocked you’d slept in past eight considering it was Christmas Day. Perhaps after disobeying you last night, your son had decided to sleep in to make up for slipping downstairs to try and catch Santa.

You rolled over and gently woke your husband. His maroon bangs fell across his face and he yawned and stretched.

It took him a moment to realize what time it was and he was also shocked by the late hour. Claud had never let you sleep in so late. He came to the same conclusion as you, that he must feel guilty.

Mephistopheles straightened his silk pajamas and helped you out of bed. He looked in the mirror and combed his hair to the side to look more decent in front of staff before leaving your bedroom.

He waited for you before opening the large doors and he led you downstairs to the fireplace nearly as big as the wall itself.

The presents remained untouched under the Christmas tree and Mephistopheles kissed your cheek and opted to wake your son himself. Your son was so used to staff rousing him that it was a great Christmas surprise to see his father waiting for him at the end of his bed to bring him downstairs.

Your son was beaming in Mephistopheles’ arms as they walked downstairs together.

The staff made way for them holding your breakfast trays and after Mephistopheles set Calud down the trays were brought to you. The staff bowed and left and you scooted closer to Mephistopheles as your son began to unwrap his towering pile of gifts.

As your son excitedly thanked you every time, Mephistopheles grinned, pleased with himself for doing a good job. You kissed his cheek and smiled approvingly making him melt in your arms as Christmas properly began.

Barbatos x Reader

The world was silent as you lay snug under the black covers in your bed. The more you woke the more you became aware that Barbatos, your husband, was not next to you. You rolled over, saddened by the loss of the warm demon next to you.

You had expected that at least on Christmas he would sleep in with you but you supposed that six in the morning was sleeping in for Barbatos already and you should be content with that.

Moments later, before you could fully awake, the sweet smell of ginger wafted to your nose and you sat straight up blinking until the fuzziness in your vision passed and you could see your husband standing there, pleased with himself as he offered you a tray of food.

Barbatos watched you eat with a pleased grin and kissed you as you bit the head off a gingerbread man.

“Shall I fetch Sebastian?” He asked you as you set your empty tray aside and you nodded and wiped your mouth.

He nodded and quickly left the room to wake your son a few doors down. You thought your son was probably still exhausted from an accidental trip to the Mariana Trench last night but were proven wrong when he came running into the room.

He jumped onto the bed and hugged you.

“Merry Christmas!” He exclaimed and you hugged him and kissed his head.

He laughed and smiled, turning around to his father. “I knew they’d be awake already.” He declared and you tilted your head.

“You have your son to thank for the early morning call,” he said with a sweet smile that perfectly hid his annoyance. Barbatos too would have preferred a few more hours with you wrapped in his arms but Sebastian was a child who did not underhand such things so you couldn’t find fault in him.

Diavolo was also awake in the common room of the castle warming up with some breakfast Barbatos had already found time to make him.

“Uncle Dia!” Sebastian exclaimed and hugged him.

Diavolo occupied your son for you so that you and Barbatos could find a comfortable spot to relax. In each other’s arms, you sat on the soft rug as your son opened his gifts on Christmas day.

Diavolo x Reader

You thought you heard squeals outside the door first thing that morning but just as quickly silence followed. You sat up, prepared to chase your children back to bed but saw that it was already seven and that this was actually quite late for the three of them.

Diavolo snored next to you and covered him back up with a blanket and dressed yourself to check on the commotion in the hall.

Just as you approached the door you heard a soft knock you identified as Barbatos.

You opened the door, shielding Diavolo from view, and accepted your breakfast trays from the diligent butler who had three children clinging to his tail.

You gave your children a cross look, “please don’t bother Mr. Barbatos,” you scolded and they nodded and giggled, still holding onto the steward’s tail.

Barbatos sighed and shut the door so you could wake up and help dress your sleepy husband.

Diavolo had worn the both of you out last night but surprisingly you were the one with the most energy that morning. Maybe it was because you were still unused to such extravagant gifts

like the ones you knew Diavolo would be getting you. In that case, you could hardly blame your children for getting up as early as they could.

Diavolo woke up, startled you were dressed and holding breakfast but he happily accepted and welcomed the day with the optimism you hoped would never leave him.

Diavolo quickly made himself decent but comfortable and together you opened the doors to your bedroom. Barbatos leaned against the wall facing you, holding your youngest under his arms and your daughter by her wrist as she tried to break free.

Your eldest son and Diavolo’s heir waited patiently but you could see the giddy excitement within him as he barely contained himself.

You smiled proudly and took your son’s hand as Diavolo apprehended the youngest two and held them captive in his arms as you took the elevator down to the main room with the grand tree and all their gifts beneath it.

Barbatos readied his camera as Diavolo set your daughter and youngest son loose. They tote into the presents without waiting and your oldest son, Chao, looked up at you for approval. You smiled and nodded and he ran to join his siblings as you reunited with your husband.

He held you in his arms and snuck kisses against your head and your hands when the children weren’t looking.

It was already turning into a perfect Christmas Day.

[eudemonia13]

Light in the darkness

Solomon x Reader

Light angst. W.C. 1099 Solomon thinks about his adorable aprentice as they rest beside him.

He saw light in you, passed the glimmer of sunlight on your skin as you bathed in the warm rays of your home world, passed the brilliance of neon signs and late night artificial rainbows that painted your eyes a stunning palette of colour, shades he would chase in his dreams as his subconscious processed yet another memory of you.

An abstract keepsake that he would hold onto as long as he lived. When he had long forgotten the grassy fields, the taste of salt and sugar, when the last drop of his blood had dried. When the death of the world and the collapse of the sun had claimed the last slivers of light, he would remember you.

Tucked away with all the other parts of you he held dear. His thoughts were a kaleidoscope of you. The movements, the laughter, the rhythm of your heart beating. Everything stored away in the most precious archives of his mind.

No, he saw it there in the darkest nights of the Devildom.

Bright and soft as the dawn, light that emanated from you like the warmth from your skin as he rested in your arms. It enveloped him and cast the shadows in his mind into slumber.

He loved you, he loved you in ways that felt like sparks and fire. A firework, piercing the darkness with a violence that could only be human. So fleeting, and yet you burned yourself into the entire realm's consciousness like an afterimage, trails of fading sparks that still glowed as they rained from high. A fraction of time that outshone the dim embers of eternity.

He used to sparkle, he used to glow. And he still did, the hunger in the demon’s eyes told him as much. The subtle glances the angels passed behind his back when he was once allowed entry into the Celestial realm told him as much. There was still enough left in him to want, to covet and bide their time over as turn after turn of the games they played went on.

Solomon smiled, a reflex that had rooted into him and pulled the corners of his lips into an unreadable neutrality, a defence given to him by the slow erosion of millenia uncounted. Hard learned lessons like waves rolling the sharpest rocks into smooth, flawless stones, he had lost that earnest part of him to the oceans long ago.

What he felt, the vulnerability and timid honesty of his feelings even here when he was alone with his thoughts, was too intimidating to show without a mask. So he smiled to himself in the darkness of his room.

He used to sparkle, like you did now.

Still warm, still forgiving even as beings far beyond your reach played over you like a prize, like a bet. Like you weren’t human. Still bright, still shining.

He pulled you closer, tucking his head against your shoulder as you slept, chest falling in gentle crests, like waves rolling over him with every rise and fall. Time had no hold on him, not here. Not with you.

His dearest, his confidant, his…

What was he to you? Surely, he meant at least something to you. But in a room of flushed faces, of hands reaching out to you… How close was he to your light?

A Prince, strong and unmoving to the little problems that once battered him in his youth. He was safe, he was luxury and adventure and lightheartedness, still after everything in his long, long life. Passion and elegance… And knowing you would always come second to the inevitable need of his people.

A Demon, as capable, as beautiful and loyal as he was prideful. Having made his place in the Devildom from what was once scorn and misery, but now stood as one of the most powerful and respected Devildom Elite? Who offered you seduction, and complete ownership over his heart and soul? At least… So long as you could withstand his heart being locked behind the burden of pride, and obligations that could never be put off for more than a night before he would be buried by paperwork yet again.

And his brothers, demons of high regard all their own. But he hardly needed to slander any of them to highlight their glaringly obvious shortfalls.

An Angel, kind and devoted, cunning and artful in everything he does. He was warm, and soft like spring rain, dewy and beautiful and calming to even your soul itself. He would give every part of himself to you and not ask for anything more than your happiness. And yet he was forever shadowed by the choices he had made, and had not made, and the knowledge of what would come from those fateful decisions… But truly, what could he say against Simeon? That he was bad with technology and he was afraid of the terrifying and confusing future ahead of him? Solomon knew that what his friend offered you could hardly be painted as ‘bad’ in even the harshest light.

Was that cruel of him? To weave his words and sharpen his tongue against those he has come to think of as friends? Even in the seclusion of his mind, could he take that from you? Could he appear just a little bit better, here, where none could hear him?

Solomon, the wise. Solomon, the witty sorcerer. Solomon, protector of Humanity. Solomon, who loved you with all his heart. Who had protected you when you were nothing but a defenceless human thrown to the wolves of the Devildom that first year of the exchange program. Solomon, who had risked the fate of the human realm just so that you may not hate him for the awful choice that must be made. Who had put the fate of everything he had devoted his immortal life to protecting, into your hands knowing full well that you might not choose what he would.

Solomon, who looked at you and saw everything he loved, everything he had sworn to protect and cherish deep in his heart where nothing could take it from him again.

Solomon, who loved you knowing he would lose you too.

And Solomon, the manipulative, the wolf in sheep's clothing, the untrustworthy sham of a sorcerer who used and conned anyone he could benefit from. Solomon, the human who had lost his humanity. Solomon, the liar. Solomon, the demon.

He wondered, silently. Wordlessly as his hands shook with the slightest tremble as he pulled you against him even tighter. His Light, his Truth… His Protector.

Who was he to you?

[still-a-morosexual-help]

honestly tho om lucifer is such a comfort character

you know mammon's my all time all around favourite no contest but like

lucifer just hits different

he's so tired and he's so overworked and he loves his family so much it makes me sick he's willing to kill and die for them at any chance he made the misfits of the celestial realm his family despite being the perfect example of an angel himself he thinks his brothers are adorable he just wants them to have one quiet day

he's such a bastard he's arrogant and prideful and he'll willingly meow like a little kitty cat because his boybestfriend is sad

he's got daddy issues he's terrified he's traumatised his greatest fear is his father he spent years fighting a pointless war and never questioned his father about whether they ever even tried to find a way to end the war without just mindlessly trying to kill people who really aren't that different from them for a reason no one knows he's willing to be given piggyback rides by another high profile man in a public area

he's a dog person he's weak to puppy dog eyes from everyone he cares about he's constantly done with Mephisto's shit he gets jealous because one of his friends complimented their mutual friend's cookies

he's willing to villainize himself in the eyes of his family to keep them safe he's sadistic his first response to being cornered and scared is to kill anyone who's making him feel that way his love language with his brothers is being a little shit to them he's somehow connected to/the starting point of all the issues/trauma his brothers have he has empty nest syndrome even though all his brothers live at home he hasn't realised the extent to which his actions and words have fucked up his brothers and is constantly surprised and devastated by it when he realises

he has a son he pretends is his brother whom he only ever canonically acknowledged as his son twice which led to huge blowout fights one of his younger brothers bullies him into going to the pub with them once a week his son runs a club with his youngest brother dedicated solely to making his life miserable

he's sadistic he genuinely enjoys seeing people suffer he's so polite he'll allow himself to be poisoned by food he knows is bad he bought dinner for a whole restaurant because it was the owner's birthday he wore a silly outfit and worked at a themed restaurant as a favour for a friend he gets visibly more aroused when he's ordered around he insults his brothers but gets upset whenever an outsider does the same

he loves his human so much and he's so annoyed at them he's so frustrated with them he's so angry at them and he's so worried about them so protective of them so incredibly proud of them he has tried to kill them many many times

he's a borderline alcoholic he's immortal he's greying he gets migraines he forgets to eat and he sleeps at his desk he does the mom thing and orders takeout for his children when he goes out to eat without them he likes dad jokes his greatest wish is to visit a factory he likes good socks he's a grumpy old man

he's over 10 million years old he's an eldritch horror he's the personification of the sin of pride he needs glasses to read his childhood friend? ex-boyfriend? kind-of-brother? old coworker? brother in arms? calls him luci

he's a naggy paranoid perfectionist he removed the entire bathroom because one of his brothers forgot to clean it he had to literally be kidnapped to send him on a vacation he ripped out multiple sets of his own wings he doesn't like being seen shirtless he lectured jason voorhees about him not killing efficiently enough

he's a respected and recognised drag queen he believes love is love he's canonically so beautiful but no one ever makes a move on him because the whole realm thinks he's in a committed long term relationship he refuses to believe his best friend is in love with him despite multiple people saying so

he's the type of person you want to please the type of person you want to make proud the type of person you want on your side because you know no matter what he'll always have your back you're safe that as long as he's there everything will be okay the type of person you want to be held by while everything is falling down around you

he's even queer

[krystaljasper]

[quitealotofsodapop]

So how does courtnapping work??

"Courtnapping"; a mix of "courting" + "kidnap", is basically the demonic version of a proposal.

When demons were still scattered clans/prides across the mortal realm, it was very difficult for clans to interact without a lot of violence involved. Either because of competition for food, or because someone mistoke a glamoured demon for a mortal animal and starting biting.

What's a prospective lover to do if their beloved's family won't let them near without a fight? Easy; steal their lover away so that they can court them (among other things) in private.

As society grew; "courtnapping" became part of the demonic consciousness as a legitimate dating strategy. It was a loud way of announcing your intentions to the intended's family that you wanted them as a mate, whilst also showing off some muscle/magic.

However, demons are not animals. And if the kidnapped party rejects their captor's affections, it is considered polite to let them go. Only *uncouth* demons dare to lock their beloved away without contact with their family. And only truly vile ones (like Kui Mulang or Sai Tai Sui) keep them as forced spouses.

It's downright expected that a demon whisks away their future spouse - after all, who doesn't want to be swept off their feet?

Among wealthier Underworld clans who've adopted celestial/mortal practices, courtnapping isn't as common. Imperial China-style arranged marriages were the norm for the longest time up until a certain Bull Prince fell in love with an Iron Fan warrior, changing the desire among noble demons towards love matches. Courtnapping is considered a legitimate way of declaring "I object!" to an arranged marriage by giving the bride/groom a second option and a moment to rethink the arrangement.

Some wedding parties even hold a mock courtnappings between the new couple so that they can run off from the festivities and enjoy their honeymoon. Think how Spartan weddings involved the groom "kidnapping" the bride from their own ceremony.

Also because of some hilarious idea sharing with @soniclozdplove, we agree; People were kidnapped by demons so frequently in the Imperial era, not because of demon's eating them - but because of *marriage fraud*.

Think of it like this:

China is under strict Confucian and filial piety ideals. If your parent wants you to marry a specific person, you have pretty much no say in the matter.

Unless.

You just so happen to be kidnapped by a demon who wants to keep you as their legally binding spouse.

Human: "Oh no~ I'm captured by an hunky demon who wants to marry me! Guess I'm going to have to stay here and miss out on my arranged marriage." ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Demon: "And we can no-fault divorce at any time!" Human's Family: "We'll just take them back!" Lawyer: "Actually you can't. It's a legally binding marriage. Unless the captive expresses their rejection or wants to leave; it's legitimate." Human's Family: "Crap. Well, we'll just hire a mercenary or warrior to reverse-kidnap them back!" (*Later...*) Mercenary: "Avast foul demon! I have been sent to reclaim your stolen bride/groom!" Demon, turns to "captive": "Yay or nay, hun?" Human, looks at mercenary: "Ew. Nay. He's older than my dad." Demon, turning on dramatics: "LEAVE THIS PLACE YOU SOLIDER OF FORTUNE! ONLY ONES WITH PURE HEARTS SHALL TAKE THEM BACK!"

Heres a PortSherry comic I feel is very appropriate.

In more serious scenarios, a courtnapping can be faked to safety remove a person in an abusive home. Abusers can't control you if you're behind a giant lumbering demon with a prenup.

DBK got into this in the Tang-era when he and Princess Jade Face were "married". He was just helping her claim her inheritance, since her dad's will would only pay out if she was married (the Underworld Earth-Fox Clan are the "mimicking human/celestial"-trends types). PIF knew of this arrangement, but was still jealous af and nearly blew the whole of Thunder Mountain in her rage (it was how they learned she was pregnant with Red Son).

Zhu Bajie is an odd duck in this case; since he married Gao Cuilan the normal human way, but his instincts told him to steal her away when her family suddenly became hostile towards him. Cuilan didn't really object because she truly loved him, but was upset that contact between her and her family was cut. Even after the couple are legally divorced; Bajie still considers Cuilan his wife - because in a demonic sense, she's still his willing mate. Lots of stories written about the Pilgrims post-Journey have Bajie go back to her so that they can (in human sense) remarry.

Courtnapping still occurs in the modern day; just with a lot of pre-arranged consent involved. Racing, mock-battles, and the spat with between the lovers' parents - demons do love the thrill of the chase after all. But unplanned kidnappings of desired spouses do still happen.

In Red Son and MK's case; they've accidentally been courting each other for a long time. Mostly because they're dorks who don't realise what their rivalry looks like from the outside - especially during the Season 1 era.

Red Son, showing off his plans: "Here is my current brilliant idea for reclaiming our power! Step 1; We engage Noodle Boy and his friends in battle. Step 2: While you two are occupying Dragon Girl and his fathers, I capture Noodle Boy. Step 3: I keep him hidden in my old base in Fire Wind Cave. Step 4: I have full access to the Staff and all of Noodle Boy's magical abilities! It's foolproof!" DBK & PIF: (*share knowing smiles*) PIF: "Dear, I'm glad that you've finally developed an interest in romantic matters - but our current goals do not align with planning a marriage just yet." Red Son, confused: "Huh?" DBK: "And while it would be advantageous if you married Sun Wukong's heir, I feel that tensions between our families are too high to consider even a superficial union." PIF: "It's really sweet that you considered it though." Red Son: (*turns back to planning board, realises that his plan to capture MK resembles a traditional courtnapping*) Red Son, nearly magenta from embarrassment as he tears up the plan: "Err... never mind then."

In season 3 when Red Son saved Mei, Sandy, and MK from the dessert; DBK & PIF weren't mad that they had enemies at the dinner table - but because at a glance it looked like Red Son had stolen himself a spouse without warning them! And he brought some of his spouses family members to hammer out the details!

If the gang hadn't immediately brought up the Samadhi Fire; DBK's next sentence would have been asking them; "What are your intentions with my child? Do we need to provide a dowry? Is there plans for grandchildren?"

Red Son might have died on the spot. XD

[backstageinfatuationvn]

OOH, I FREAKING LOVE IDOL CONCEPTS! I have some questions btw

1. Talking about headcanon, which real kpop song would belong to LUXE?

2. What would the boys' reaction be if the MC said, they prefer more female groups than male ones? (especially curious 'bout Kier)

3. I'm a kpop dance teacher, so I'm curious, what would be the reaction of the members if MC said they would do a dance cover of one of their dances?

OOUUGHHHH!!! There's this one song I would listen HEAVILY when I was first making LUXE's concept.

"Butterfly" by LOONA!

Prepare for a lengthy discussion JWJSJW

From what I have written, this is LUXE's group concept:

🕊️ "Three angels with an intriguing and captivating sound that combines the best of angelic and heavenly concepts with the elegance and darkness of luxury. They were born and raised in the heavenly realms, where they honed their unique talents and skills in music and performance. As they descended to the mortal world, they discovered the joys and challenges of human interaction and the responsibilities of fame and success, blending angelic and heavenly beauty with a darker, more mysterious aura."

🦋 “Butterfly” – LOONA

⤷ Why it fits LUXE's celestial, elegant, and mysterious concept

---

🌌 1. Ethereal Soundscape = Angelic Origin

The instrumental and vocal layering in Butterfly is dreamlike and airy—filled with atmospheric synths, echo effects, and featherlight harmonies. It feels like you’re listening to something descending from the heavens or unfolding in slow motion, much like the presence of angels arriving in the mortal realm.

> Fit for LUXE: The song’s weightlessness captures that surreal, celestial presence LUXE would radiate on stage—like they're floating instead of dancing.

---

🕊️ 3. Themes of Freedom & Transformation = Their Descent and Growth

“Fly like a butterfly” isn’t just a poetic line—it symbolizes:

Transformation (from divine being to idol),

Freedom (breaking from heavenly constraints),

Delicate strength (beauty that hides power).

> LUXE’s Lore Fit: Angels who descend to explore human life, learn emotions, and confront fame—this is their transformation, just like a butterfly emerging from a cocoon of divinity into the flawed, dazzling human world.

---

💫 4. Global Inclusivity and Empowerment = Universality of Their Message

The original Butterfly MV showcases women of various races, ages, and cultures—highlighting unity, potential, and grace in everyone. This subtle theme of empowerment and universal beauty fits well with the idea of angels coming to inspire, guide, or observe humanity.

> LUXE’s Message: Even from above, they see potential in humans, in emotions, in imperfection—and they express it through music.

---

🎨 5. Aesthetic & Styling = Light Luxury + Mystery

In the MV, LOONA wears whites, silvers, deep navy, and flowing fabrics. The lighting is soft but cinematic—giving them a celestial glow. There’s a refined mystery to it all.

> I wanted to try replicate that in their idol outfits shown here!

This song gives me CHILLSSSSS every time! I'd say this song fits them very well.

2. Ooooo, this is such an interesting one.

Oriel: “Ah, I see. Well, can’t blame you—girl groups have killer choreography these days.” smirks knowingly

Oriel: “But I’d like to think we’ve at least piqued your interest a little?”

Why: Oriel is secure in his presence and charisma. He doesn’t see it as a competition.

---

He tilts his head, expression unreadable.

Min: “…Mm. That so?”

A small shrug follows. He doesn’t say more at first.

But if you’re someone he’s starting to trust or get close to, he’ll quietly follow up later:

Min: “Out of curiosity… which girl group’s your favorite?”

Then a rare flicker of a smirk.

Min: “Not that I’m comparing.”

Why: Min doesn’t react strongly outwardly. He processes things internally, and your preferences won’t hurt his pride—but he will remember it. He might even study the groups you like, trying to understand your tastes in his own quiet way.

---

He pauses, eyes lingering on you a beat too long.

Kier: “...I see. You must find them more… relatable.”

Then, with a practiced smile:

Kier: “That’s alright. We all have our preferences.”

Why: Kier wouldn’t lash out or argue—but it stings. As someone who has likely worked endlessly to present a flawless image, he might internalize your words as rejection. He'd cover it up with a gentle smile but could spiral a little later, questioning what female idols have that he doesn’t—elegance? Softness? Accessibility?

> He may even start studying their charm and comparing it to his own.

3. Omg! That's so cool! I think I wrote a small scenario about this?? Like a long time ago??? Never posted it but here it is!

👑 Oriel

Reaction: Genuinely impressed

Oriel: “You wanna cover? That’s amazing!”

leans in slightly

Oriel: “Which part are you planning to cover?”

Oriel: “I’d love to see your interpretation!!”

Why: Oriel respects professionals and loves seeing artistic passion. He might even give you tips or comment on your technique after seeing your performance.

🌘 Min

Reaction: Calm but curious

Raises an eyebrow, mildly impressed.

Min:.“You dance?”

He crosses his arms and nods slightly, a thoughtful pause.

Min:.“Our choreo’s not easy. Which part?”

If he respects your skill, you might get a lowkey compliment like:

Min: “You’ll do it justice.”

Why: He doesn’t gush or act excited, but deep down he’s proud. If he’s warmed up to you, you might catch him watching your cover in silence—analyzing, admiring, and secretly feeling flattered.

���� Kier

Reaction: Silent at first, then unexpectedly intense

He blinks, taken aback. Something unreadable flickers behind his gaze.

Kier: “You want to dance… our choreography?”

Then, softer, eyes focused on you like you're the only person in the world:

Kier: “That’s… flattering. I’ll be watching.”

Why: Kier sees this as deeply intimate. For someone to learn and embody something he performed—it makes him feel seen. But there’s also possessiveness: he wants you to perform it perfectly, almost as if it’s a form of devotion.

If you're covering his part, especially?

> Expect him to study every movement with unnerving focus—he’ll say he’s helping correct your form, but he’s watching something far more personal.

[33-108]

The 27 lunar mansions are divided into three primary types: Deva (divine), Manushya (human), and Rakshasa (demonic). This division isn’t meant to moralize, but to describe the nature of the energy each nakshatra embodies. Among them, the Rakshasa nakshatras carry the most volatile and boundary-pushing qualities. These are the nakshatras that stir, disturb, seduce, and transform. They are not concerned with order—they exist to test limits, reveal power, and often provoke the hidden forces in others.

Rakshasas in the Vedic and Puranic texts are powerful beings, often portrayed as enemies of the gods or disturbers of cosmic harmony. But the stories also reveal something deeper: they are embodiments of forces that cannot be easily controlled—especially sexual, magical, and destructive forces. They are not just brute beings but are frequently portrayed as intensely learned in occult knowledge, adept in shapeshifting, and capable of wielding energies that gods themselves must confront.

Nine nakshatras are typically classified under the Rakshasa type: Krittika, Ashlesha, Magha, Chitra, Vishakha, Jyeshtha, Mula, Dhanishta, and Shatabhisha. These nakshatras are often ruled by Mars, Ketu, and Rahu—planets associated with raw desire, instability, transformation, seduction, and karmic upheaval. The deities linked to these nakshatras—kartikeya, the Nagas, Indra-Agni, Nirriti—speak to this darker or more intense nature. The qualities these nakshatras represent are not evil, but they are uncomfortable. They confront stagnation and test authenticity.

A significant theme in the lore around Rakshasas is sexuality—not as romantic idealism, but as a force of power and confrontation. Rakshasas often use sex as a weapon, a snare, or a ritualized tool to destabilize the righteous or gain energetic control. Ravana was not just a lustful king—he was a being whose desire itself disrupted the balance of worlds. Rakshasi women like Shurpanakha openly expressed sexual desire, an act punished with mutilation. These stories highlight the taboo nature of sexuality when it’s stripped of societal control, and how Rakshasa energy challenges the repression and moralization of these forces.

Rakshasas are also shapeshifters, and this quality runs deep in their mythos. They can alter form, gender, age, and appearance. Their ability to transform is both literal and symbolic—it points to their mastery of illusion, maya, and astral manipulation. In this, they share a common thread with beings in other traditions, such as succubi and incubi—sexual entities known to engage in intense dream encounters or astral unions with humans. Such beings offer ecstasies and pleasures far beyond the scope of ordinary human experience. Rakshasa qualities carry a similar force—seductive, penetrating, and often obsessive. The pleasure they represent is not for comfort but for initiation.

To be born under multiple Rakshasa nakshatras is to carry these very qualities. In my own chart, Saturn—is placed in Shatabhisha, a nakshatra known for secrecy, healing, and the intense probing of hidden systems. It is a domain of veiled knowledge, ruled by Rahu and presided over by Varuna, the cosmic enforcer of truth and unseen law. This makes my karmic approach and endurance saturated with subversive insight, detachment, and confrontation with collective shadows. My Moon is in Magha, placing my emotional core in the realm of ancestral pride, power, and the hunger for status and remembrance. Mars, my lagnesha, is in Ashlesha, a nakshatra ruled by serpents, known for its hypnotic charm and instinctual manipulation. My Mercury is vargottama in Chitra, ruled by Mars and Vishvakarma, the celestial architect. Chitra is seductive, visually oriented, and carries the Rakshasa trait of dazzling, refined presentation masking a deeper drive to shape, manipulate, and beautify reality. My Jupiter Atmakaraka and Rahu are both in Vishakha, which burns with obsession and the drive toward union—whether divine, erotic, or destructive.

Taken together, these placements reflect a Rakshasa-dominant chart. Not because they make one evil or monstrous, but because they anchor me in the qualities these nakshatras express: uncompromising, untamed, and transformative. These energies demand responsibility. They can’t be repressed without consequence, nor indulged recklessly without risk. But when recognized, respected, and skillfully directed, they offer a power that is direct. Rakshasa energy isn’t a curse—it’s a call to embrace the real, the raw, and the revelatory.

Interestingly, Rakshasas have also been symbolically linked to the figure of the clown—a connection that speaks volumes. In certain folkloric and esoteric circles, clowns are said to descend from or reflect Rakshasa-like beings. With their exaggerated features, garish colors, unnatural laughter, and chaotic presence, clowns embody a paradox: they entertain and terrify. Like Rakshasas, they manipulate reality, they play with masks, and they provoke a visceral reaction from deep within the subconscious. Their role is to disturb normalcy while delighting the crowd, much like how Rakshasa nakshatras disturb ordinary karmic rhythms to catalyze transformation. This explains why clowns, though meant to bring joy, are often the focus of unease, nightmares, or even phobias. Beneath the paint and the spectacle lies a powerful, shape-shifting force—just like the Rakshasa: one who dances at the edge of pleasure, fear, and revelation.

While no direct historical evidence exists - Grimaldi, who is known as the creator of the modern conception of the European clown, it is alleged that his creation may have been partially inspired by a friend who visited India in the early days of British colonialism and/or that future variarions of the clown may had been evolved due to the influenceof rakshasa. The story goes that some became fascinated with the multi-colored and terrifying appearance of these trickster deities (Rakshasas) and that people modeled clown outfits and persona partially based off of them.

[hiraeth-wayfarer]

Hiraeth Creature #1220 - Thadra-Ilnua

"In a land far, far from ours, across the serpent-laden seas, the Harbour Lands rise from waves, straddled between existence and nowhere. This land once held folk, not sown from the souls of Fae, but from dust and water, in great pools beneath the boughs of ancient trees. They crawled out as raw, skittering creatures, more than susceptible to tooth and claw. Through time and luck, they eventually carved stone, bore flame, and stood upright to gaze at the distant, loving Moon. Once humble, the Harbour Folk grew cunning, shaping the land to their whims. Thoughts and ideas were ever racing, they brought the elements to heel, and became masters of the alchemical arts. They concocted medicines for every ill, conduits for the arcane, and even fashioned together living beings. A utopia true, the one thing they lacked was the closeness of the Moon, whose light felt ever distant. The more they peered upward, the colder the Harbour Folk felt.

The King of the Harbour Folk promised his people a Moon. In a grand experiment, the Harbour King chiselled away pieces of the Harbour Lands and gave them hearts of magic. Able to soar among the clouds, the people could live in the Moon’s airy domain so they could finally find a closeness they longed for. For a time they found comfort, but eventually they found something unexpected. A land across the sea: Hiraeth, ever present with beasts and folk innumerable. Nights framed in silver light saw the Moon Goddess herself descend upon the land, where all manner of souls bathed in her loving light. When this auspicious sign was attested among the Harbour Folk, the Harbour King grew mad with jealousy. They had wallowed in brine and mud, wrestled survival from the maws of beach-combers to eke out a kingdom, while across the sea sat fertile lands coddled by spirits, tending to an undeserving menagerie of stone-worshipping savages. For generations, the Harbour King had the Harbour Folk circling above, keeping track of any signs of weakness so he could begin butcher’s work.

Rumblings between realms began and Fae Realm warlords also felt entitled to their share of Hiraeth’s bounty. This sparked a great conflict as Fae fought against and for Hiraeth’s survival. The Harbour King sent in blades in the dark, pincers to cut and crush battle weary folk and Fae alike. Their cause was cutthroat, without an ounce of glory or sentiment worth song– actions seen by the Moon Goddess, who wept for their souls. She would not be the only witness for long, as the hunters were eventually caught by Hiraeth’s God Queen during her vengeful crusade against all interlopers. Her rancour seething to a pitch, she cast the Harbour Folk back to the sea and, while clenching the fallen tears of the Moon Goddess, she cursed the Harbour Folk to never find peace under the light of the Moon again. 

The sky grew eternally cold above the Harbour Lands. The Harbour King’s punishment branched out from his stricken body and the people grew heavy souls leaden with sorrow. So heaving their weight, they could not go upwards towards the Celestial Sea, but downwards into the depths of the ocean. Even those in the flying islands could not find peace, and slipped into the sky. Hearing tales that the mountains were the “Stairways to the Moon”, they built cities within their highest peaks, but their souls were buried into the rock beneath them. Their lot was to languish in the elements they once tamed. Their souls seeped into the Harbour Lands, the flora turned wild with the will of the tethered dead.

While Hiraeth met her own ruin during the Giant’s March, it built a memory of heroism and grace among those left to live onward. The Harbour Lands had no such valour or pride to latch onto, the Harbour King’s legacy tainting their history. Regardless, the Harbour Folk carried on, their inevitable fates giving them the perseverance to value life in every waking moment. Their long-lasting want to survive despite the sins of their forebears had led them to study all manner of secret alchemy and ritual. They returned to the great pools beneath the boughs of ancient trees where they first rose, and within them forged their own Moon of bewitching light. Rejected from solace, the Harbour Folk ferried their bodies and souls to a self-constructed sanctuary. The Second Moon hangs close to trees, a vessel for those who hope one day to be either forgotten, or forgiven."

[irishmammonagenda]

How I Think The Obey Me Boys Would React to The Rumours™️

Summary: Rumours have been floating around the Devildom. Rumours about a certain Angel and Sorcerer...how will the demon brothers react? Word Count: haha great question Content Warnings: probably just swearing tbh Disclamer: This will probably not make a lot of sense unless you've read this fic here for context, but ykw life doesnt make sense you do you <3

[dateables & co version]

post dividers by @cafekitsune their post dividers r really cool check them out! (also sorry for the tag!!)

You had left the Sorcerers' Society feeling quite flustered, but also extremely pleased with yourself. Take that Solomon. You grin. In all the excitement of the following days, you'd forgotten about the rumour you had accidentally spread around the Devildom. Perhaps you shouldn't've pretended to be Archangel Michael to gain entry....

💙💙LUCIFER💙💙

When Lucifer heard the news from Beel, he was in the student council room, he turnt his D.D.D off and just placed his head in his hands.

Was this some elaborate scheme by Solomon to gain a pact with him?

Lucifer wasn't sure he even wanted to know.

Sighing; he pulled on his coat and traversed to Purgatory Hall where Michael was staying.

"Michael." The Avatar of Pride stood leaning against the kitchen counter, everyone else in Purgatory Hall was at RAD, so the Angel and Demon were alone. "Oh Jesus Christ!" The Angel in question brings a hand to his heart in mock dramatics, "Warn a guy next time Lucikins!" "..." The Silence was palpable. "...Lucikins?" Lucifer gritted out, his eye twitching. "Michael. This is not the time for your games. I am the Avatar of Pride and a Prince of Hell, show me some respect." Michael merely raised an arched eyebrow, a shit-eating grin on his face as he quickly closed the distance between them, pulling the Avatar of Pride into an ironclad headlock, bringing his other arm over with a clenched fist and messing up Lucifer's hair. "I'm sure you are Lucikins, but you're still my adorable little brother." Lucifer pushes his hands out in an attempt to get away, but even he had to admit, Michael had always been stronger than him. "Michael." The younger protests, "I swear to Lord Diavolo if you do not let me go, I will-" Michael interrupts him, pausing his brotherly tormenting to wipe a tear from his ruby red eyes. "-Ahh! You must've missed me so much, poor Wittle Wucifer! Always so heavy on the teenage angst!" Lucifer growled in a way too similar to Satan when he first fell. Like father, like son. "I don't have teenage angst. Now unhand me you bastard!" "Oh please! The amount of times I caught you in the Celestial Realm listening to My Chemical Romance and Panic at the Disco on repeat speaks for itself! And the eyeliner! Just because the others were too young to remember doesn't mean I was baby brother! Don't think I don't remember the wolf-cut!" Lucifer's eye twitches so hard he worries for his socket. He cab't even refute it. "You are two minutes older than me! And besides! I came here to talk about the rumours of you dating Solomon!" "The What." Michael immediately ceases all noogie-ing, his grip loose enough for Lucifer to slip through his arm. He scowls, smoothing the wrinkles from his suit and beginning to fix his hair. He moves a safe distance away from his older (estranged) brother. "The rumours of you showing up during a Sorcerers' Society meeting and making out with Solomon on his lap. Ring a bell?" Michael, for the love of him, just looks confused. "But I've never even-" He blinks slowly a few times. "I am going to kill MC." Lucifer, even with the ego bruising he had just endured, laughs, partly out of sheer relief, he doesn't want to imagine what a Solomon Michael duo could be capable of. But of course it was you. It always was.

💛💛MAMMON💛💛

HUH???!!!

This poor man's confusion is so strong.

He doesn't want to think about Michael's lovelife. Or Solomon's for that matter.

He immediately rushes to tell you.

"Oi! MC!" Mammon shoves his way into your room like he was auditioning for the walking dead, as per usual, he wasn't aware of the marvellous invention of knocking yet. You quickly closed you laptop lid, and placed the device down beside you on the bed, lest he saw the Archangel Michael/King Solomon 100k, Slowburn, Angst with a Happy Ending you were writing on HellO3. “Hi Mams!” Mammon scurries onto your bed like the floor is lava, resting his chin on your thigh and looking up at you with his usual puppy eyes. “Yer not gonna believe this MC.” He says seriously. "What's up?" You tilt your head, bringing a one of your hands to ruffle your First Man's hair, he leans into the touch happily before jumping up and acting like he wasn't. "Well, 'pparently Michael's after starting te date Solomon. Can ye believe it?" Mammon makes a face. "Michael...wi' Solomon...I don' wanna believe it...just...its mingin'..." You laugh nervously, "I don't think Michael's dating Solomon, Mams....someone must've uhh..." You hold in a laugh. "It's probably just a succubi or someone looking for chaos." Mammon nods seriously, laying his head back on your lap. "Yer prolly righ' MC." You pet his hair again, "Wanna watch a movie or something, Mams?" "Pffft- Of course ya would wanna watch a movie wi' the Great Mammon...alrigh' huma-...Angel...I'll allow it...!" He says with his usual bravado, it was almost convincing, if he hadn't nuzzled further into your hand, and he wasn't looking at you like you were the one reason his pulse was still going.

🧡🧡LEVIATHAN🧡🧡

He finds out after the first chapter to a certain Archangel Michael/King Solomon fanfic was published. Yes he is subscribed to your HellO3 account, and yes! he has emails turnt on.

What kind of person would he be if he didn't read his Henry's fanfics?!

He throws his phone across the room.

When he finally wills himself to get up and retrieve it, he takes a screenshot and starts texting you frantically.

You're lazing about on your bed dong nothing, you'd just posted the first chapter of THE FORBIDDEN FRUITS: A GAY ROMANCE STORY THAT TRANSCENDS REALMS five minutes previous when your DDD began vibrating at such a speed you almost made a very unfunny sex joke. You pick up your DDD and sure enough, its Levi, heh; so he is subscribed to your HellO3 account! Leviachan <3: MC WHAT IS THIS NDVNRO DID YOU WRIT E FNAFICTION AOBOUT MCIAHEL AND SOLOMOMN You grinned. You: Fnaf fiction? Good idea for an AU! Leviachan <3: VFIBNODNORNGVNO MC IM LOOKING ON FORUMS WDYM THERES A RUMOU R ABORUT SOLOMON AND MICHAEL DATING You: In my defense, it was Solomon's fault. There's no response for 10 minutes, until your DDD pings again. Leviachan <3: Why is the fanfic good Leviachan <3: I MEAN OFC ITD BE GOOD, YOU WROTE IT BUT Leviachan <3: ITS SO Leviachan <3: THE CHARACTERS ARE SO COMPELLING AND THE PLOT IS SO GOOD RJRGNVDON Leviachan <3: AND THE TENSION??!! You grinned, you could always count on your Lord of Shadows to hype up your degenerate fanfics. You: thanks <3 satan's helping me write it, wanna help? Leviachan <3: I don't think I could write as good as you guys, im just a stinky smelly worthless otaku :( You: nuhuh. >:( Leviachan <3: But if you wanted... I could maybe beta-read??? You: OFC YOU CAN LEVI TANK YOU <33333 Leviachan <3: Haha tank LMAO ROFL You: I can never mispell anything around anyone in this house You kicked your feet like a catholic school girl holding hands with a boy for the first time in her life, knowing Levi probably was too.

💚💚SATAN💚💚

This man has a web of connections.

He found out almost as soon as the rumour started.

Like Mammon, he immediately finds you to tell you

Unlike Mammon, he actually knocks

granted he knocks for a second before just opening your door so he could've just not knocked and it would've had the same affect.

"Hello MC" "Mornin' Satie...What time's it?" You rub your eyes tiredly, having just woken up from a nap, you sit up and blink at him slowly with sleepy eyes. Satan can't stop himself from cooing, he movies towards your bed and ruffles your hair like you're a cat, you lean into the touch. "Sorry for waking you, dear..." You yawn. "You're fine Satie...what'd you need?" "Have you heard the rumours that Michael and Solomon are secret lovers-" Suddenly you're wide awake. "Oh no. Oh no no no." Satan raises a brow, "What's wrong, MC?" You grin sheepishly, "I maybe might've accidentally not on purpose started that rumour?..." Satan laughs in your face. Handsome bastard. "It's not funny!" "It is a little funny..." You gasp, eyes lighting up mischievously, "We should write a fanfic!" Satan tilts his head, "And why would we do that?" "Because the world deserves a Slowburn Michael x Solomon fic?" "Nope." "Pleaseee Satan! I'll pay you!" "Nope." "It'll annoy Luci?" "Tempting..." "I'll give you a kiss?" "I'm in. Let's write the best Michael x Solomon the Devildom's ever seen." You shake Satan's hand. Maybe you should've been reincarnated as a demon.

🩷🩷ASMODEUS 🩷🩷

Finds out through one of his gossip circles relatively fast.

He wants to get more details so he can tell you later! <3

By far one of the more supportive brothers

So he finds Solomon, who knows maybe he could give some advice!

Michael was strange, but he was always nice to Asmo growing up in the celestial realm, he might as well make sure one of his best friends is treating his former brother right <3

"Hiya Sol!~" Asmo smiles excitedly, pulling the sorcerer in for a hug, pouting when he pulled away again. "I cant believe you never told me! Ugh~...you must've been scared I wouldn't accept you!~ Poor thing...~" Solomon blinks slowly, his usual shit-eating grin replaced with pure confusion, lost in his own rant, Asmo doesn't notice. "Well! You have my blessing!~" "For what?" "For your relationship with Michael, silly!~" Asmo giggles, Solomon takes a deep breath. "For my what." A pause pauses all sound for a moment, only for a moment, before like all other moments, they begin the cycle of movemnt again. Solomon nods rather calmly, "Maybe I shouldn't have turnt MC into a sheep....or maybe I should do it again as payback...." He says to himself Asmo sighs, so it was just a rumour then....

He does still post a link to your fanfic on his Devilgram story, because he's so supportive! <3

No one tell Michael, or Lucifer pretty please

❤️❤️BEELZEBUB❤️❤️ & 💜💜BELPHEGOR💜💜

Being a member of the Anti-Lucifer League, Satan told Belphie who told Beel after taking a nap.

Beel, being the absolute legend that he is didn't really have any opinions on it. As long as they're happy :)

Belphie sits in on the fanfic plot planning sessions you and Satan host, with Beel sometimes joining and giving surprisingly interesting plot twists.

Belphie cackles when Beel tells Lucifer of the rumours, shortly before the first chapter of Forbidden Fruits is published.

Satan and You stand by the whiteboard in the attic, various spider diagrams and bullet points are written messily upon it, only this time, it's not a plan to 'prank' Lucifer. (Are they really pranks if they never succeed?) The sound of munching can be heard as Beel works away happily on a bag of crisps, offering everyone some as you work. "What if we made Solomon run after Michael in the rain." Belphie drawls out lazily, not even looking up from where he lies beside Beel. You stare at Belphie, "What is with you and the people chasing after people in the rain trope?" Belphie sticks his tongue out at you in response. Beel shakes his head. "That wouldn't be accurate. Michael hates getting his hair wet." Belphie smiles, "Good point Beel." Satan makes a sound of contemplation. "What if...we had Michael chase Solomon in the rain instead? The fact he hates getting his hair wet could show just how much he loves Solomon..." You laugh, imagining the scene in your head. "But why is Michael chasing Solomon?" Belphie smirks, "Because Michael said something bad about humans during a fight, Solomon got upset and ran like a maiden." Beel stops munching on his snacks, looking down approvingly at his twin. "That's really smart Belphie." "Thanks Beel." Belphie grins. "Yeah Belph, your angstiness is really paying off." You tease. "Oh shut up MC." He glares at you, but there's no real weight behind it. "Theyre right you know." Satan smirks. "I heard you blasting Paramore and MCR earlier." "Its good music!"Belphie says definsively. "Besides, it keeps me awake. Goodnight." He mutters, laying his head on his twins lap before closing his eyes. Five minutes of silence later, Beel opens his mouth, "He does wear eyeliner a lot when he's in our room y'know?" "Beel!" You and Satan laugh, Beel just smiles happily at everyone getting along. Belphie devises a plan to make you dream pigeons are going to take over the world tonight as payback.

im on a Lucifer being bullied by Michael spree rn 🧍‍♂️ also you can't convince me that Satan and Belphie aren't soso similar to Lucifer bc at the end of the day they're all just angsty emo teens &lt;3

[itsabouttimex2]

I hope this isn't an odd question

But, do you think Wukong or Macaque would act or treat different their "cub" if they genders were swapped or being a female version? This is also for a Yan behavior

I don't know too much about how is the raising of a monkey from the father and mother so I was curious with this since they're both mystical demons

I was thinking about this when I saw some fanarts from the artist @/car_nimbus on Twitter, they made a neat versions of the characters with another gender

Monkey Mama

(Hmm okay let me build a hypothetical OG “Female Monkey King” to work off of here and then I’ll try to translate that into LMK’s SWK. Also, I’ll probably make a second variation of this afterwards with other characters, haha. This got a little long to do both SWK and Mac!)

Sun Wukong as a character is already heavily defined by rebellion and personal choice, so I think that making him a girl only really compounds that layer of his character.

In many older narratives, female characters are often expected to be more obedient or modest than men, and very frequently only exist as prizes or, more rarely, villains. A female Sun Wukong; assuming she plays the same role as her original incarnation, defies the expectations of how “traditional” women should behave, shirking the demure and passive “ideal” and adding another layer of rebellion to her character.

(JTTW is actually pretty great in terms of female representation, with characters ranging from the perpetually good Quanyin, the eventually repentant Princess Iron Fan, and the straight up evil White Bone Spirit. I’m a big fan of how the women aren’t slid into any one “role” throughout the story.)

I think: in story, she’d likely be viewed as a sort of “anomaly”—a woman too strong, too outspoken, and too unwilling to conform to typical feminine ideals. Her defiance and arrogance might be viewed as even more scandalous by the Celestial Realm.

Instead of being made a “stable-keeper”, I think probably she’s sent to whatever Heavenly Scullery exists in that divine realm, and put to work very quickly. She would treat this “job” with indifference or even amusement at first-after all, physical labor or menial tasks don't diminish her self-worth or confidence! She’s had a life of hard work, leading an army of Yaoguai, cultivating Flower Fruit Mountain,

So she’s fine with this… at first. Then it turns out that the food she makes with her fellow low-class workers isn’t distributed amongst the people making it, but plated up nice and pretty for a bunch of “stuffy old gods” who didn’t lift a finger! Bullshit!

So obviously, the prideful Monkey Queen goes on a destructive rampage in regards to the unfair disparity of treatment, then storms back down to Earth to throw a “feel-better” party with her fellow Yaogaui.

(Which isn’t just a party, but a symbolic reclaiming of joy and community, with her monkey tribe representing the freedom she craves and the earthly bonds she prefers over heavenly authority. It's not just an escape, but a statement of independence.)

After an extensive set of repairs, the Court sends down someone to drag her back, because, you know, the local super-powered monkey is back on the loose, and that’s not exactly great for them. This time, they offer her a “better” role- she gets to become an official Peach Maiden, lucky her!

Of course, it’s just another form of entrapment, but within a prettier cage. Even though she's given a cushier position, it's a veneer- she's still being silenced, controlled, and stripped of her freedom. The role played by a Peach Maiden is an inversion of Wukong's essence, as these women are happily serving the role of passive caretakers, nurturing with gentle smiles—a direct contrast to the free-willed, brash nature of the Monkey Queen.

(And while there’s nothing wrong with being demure, passive, and feminine, having people try to force her into that role is where Sun Wukong draws her line.)

Here, she is expected to watch in silence as others revel in the freedom and power denied to her. It's a different kind of prison, one that quietly erodes her spirit. When the Celestial Court tries to reintegrate her as a Peach Maiden, they are once again attempting to place her into a docile, decorative role, one that strips away her power and independence. Those immortal peach orchards, a symbol of immortality and divine favor, becomes a prison for her.

Surrounded by "ideal" women who embody the quiet, submissive role she despises, the Monkey Queen finds herself chafing under the pressure of conformity. Her energy, once boundless and chaotic, is now caged, and the simmering resentment builds.

The buildup to her inevitable rebellion after being made a Peach Maiden, then, becomes a very sympathetic moment because it's not just a rejection of the role forced on her, but a rejection of the very system that tries to diminish who she is at her core. Her rebellion isn’t about anger and shame- it’s about reclaiming her true self after having been suffocated by the expectations of the Celestial Court. Her rampage becomes an assertion of her identity as something that can't be confined by heavenly rules or social mores.

The Court, in its attempt to “contain" her, only fuels her defiance further, leading her once again to rebel.

It was never going to end well. But it ends all the same, and punishment is to be levied to the Queen, just the same as any other rebellious rule-breaker... actually, probably harsher.

There’s “you broke our rules and tried to lead a coup”, then there’s “you did all that, and we also find your very person to be wrong on a fundamental level”, and then she gets the book thrown at her twice over.

But! Then she meets Tang Sanzang, who sees something in her that neither the Celestial Realm nor her own band of Sworn Brothers saw. Not a heretic simian savaging a holy realm. Not a Queen to rally behind for their own gain.

But a lost soul in need of guidance.

And from there the Great Monk works on building Sun Wukong up as a person instead of leading her astray or trying to cut massive chunks of her personality out? And talks to her about the things she cares about? And teaches her about all the things she missed after spending five hundred years under a rock?

And then she meets Zhu Baije, who starts out a little too happy and carefree about having a beautiful woman around, but eventually comes to smash open heads when Wukong is disrespected, because that’s not just a hot woman, that’s his sister?

Or Sha Wujing, who helps her with even the smallest things, from trimming her claws to cutting her wild hair to preparing meals for the monk? And lets her perch on his shoulders and head so the queen can get some skinship in?

Then Ao Lie, who is every bit the “disappointment to the world at large” that she was considered? And they take turns braiding each other’s hair and wiping the mess from the other’s face, and sleeping in the same tent and same bedroom because it’s less effort?

She gets a dad and three little brothers?

She gets a family.

And then loses it and is alone again for several hundred years more.

So if we go with this theoretical “My natural existence has been rejected for being seen as ‘improper’ by a court of stuffy traditional assholes” and then “I dearly love/miss my dead found family” angle, I think she’d be portrayed as a very different sort of character in LMK.

She’s quicker to lash out and defend herself, and much less willing to sit around and let the world pass her by- because that’s what was demanded of her by the Celestial Realm.

Be good. Be quiet. Be demure. Be obedient. Be anything except you.

I don’t think she’d be as willing to “rest on her laurels” as her canon counterpart, given that a “quiet boring life” was what she had fought so very hard to escape in the first place, so instead of isolating herself from the world in the first place, she probably sets up a little “souvenir shop” at the foot of Flower Fruit Mountain, taking a human form to sell little knick-knacks that herald to the journey she undertook with her old friends.

In part, this is how Wukong works to honor them. To spread their legacy. To ensure that they aren’t forgotten, left as a footnote in the annals of history. To remember them.

In part, it’s how she justifies all the mistakes she’s made and the suffering she’s been through. Settling in to a pointlessly relaxed life is exactly what she fought against, after all. She’s heavily fallen into the “sunk-cost fallacy”, where giving up and settling in, to her, means “losing”. It means “everything I went through was all for nothing”. So she keeps at this little store instead of just retiring and isolating herself from the world, even though she’d be happier to ditch it and lounge about.

So when MK and his eccentric bunch of friends comes around with their boundless energy and mischief, she immediately goes, “Oh, okay! This is what I wanted!”

(It’s not. All she’s ever wanted is her friends back. How could there be anything else?)

The Monkie Kids are vibrant, eccentric, and full of qualities that immediately resonate with Wukong. They remind her of the energy, camaraderie, and sense of adventure that she once shared with her old companions. She sees MK's arrival not just as a chance to teach someone a few of her old tricks, but as an echo of her own life—a life she hasn't been able to truly let go of.

So she starts projecting- on the surface, MK is very much like her. He's spirited, good-natured, and curious- and reckless. Just like she was. Wukong latches onto this quickly, sort of using the kid as a proxy for herself. After all, if she can't go back to her old life, why not embrace a new one that feels close enough? In some ways, this marks her refusal to accept the passage of time, a desperate clinging to the hope that, through MK, she can rekindle the connections she once cherished.

However, underneath that initial enthusiasm is the repressed understanding that MK, despite his similarities to her younger self, cannot truly replace what she lost. The friends she fought beside, the battles they waged together, and the lessons they learned are unique, irreplaceable moments in her life. No matter how much MK’s gang reminds her of the past, he and his friends a stand-in for the companions she still longs for. But her deep desire to reconnect with her old friends clouds her ability to see MK for who he truly is: his own person, on his own journey.

It takes her a while to get to that point, though. So she’s more doting and affectionate, in a way that somewhat stifles her student’s training because she wants to be both her old carefree self and also a good mentor, and the two just get jumbled.

Sidenote: I think with the difference in actions and behavior, MK would be more open to viewing Fem!Wukong as a parental figure than the OG, especially since he doesn’t really have someone to fulfill that “mom” role.

For their dynamic, I think something like this would be the outcome:

———————————————————————-

The afternoon sun hangs low in the sky, painting the landscape in hues of varied orange and blue. With a tired hand, MK wipes the sweat from his brow.

He’s perched on one of the rocky spires dotting Flower Fruit Mountain, gazing at the view with a small smile of accomplishment. Training had been intense lately… if only because he had been doubling down on the time he spent practicing, without giving as much care to rest or aftercare.

After all, even though his powers were blooming steadily… his enemies also were growing in power and quantity, leading to the ever-creeping edge of fear that anything less than a constant one-hundred percent just wouldn’t be “enough”.

And right as he reaches back to grab the golden staff he has inherited from the Monkey Queen-

“MK! I told you to take a break, not run off to do more training!”

Her voice, uncharacteristically sharp, cuts through the formerly tranquil air, causing MK to jump. He turns just in time to see Sun Wukong strolling toward him, her hands on her hips and a look of mock annoyance on her face.

MK grinned sheepishly, shifting his grass-stained boots against the dirt. “I was just, you know… checking out the view.”

She raised an eyebrow, the corner of her mouth twitching in amusement as her eyes narrowed in annoyance. This kid... “Uh-huh. Checking out the view or sneaking in some practice when I wasn’t looking?”

Caught fast in his lie, MK rubbed the back of his neck, face scrunching up in embarrassment. “Maybe a little of both?”

In spite of herself, Sun Wukong quietly laughs, the sound echoing like a chiming bell through the mountain. Her long, golden hair flowed behind her in the wind, each strand catching the light like molten fire. Despite her legendary status- the rebellious warrior who’d fought the heavens and nearly won!- there was a warmth to her that MK had come to cherish.

“All work and no play, MK,” she said, sitting beside him on the rock and ruffling his hair with a fondness that always made him feel like a little kid again. “You’ll burn out before you get anywhere.”

He looked at her, eyes shining with admiration. “But you never stop training. You’ve been at this for centuries! I just…”

A pause, as his chest turns over, unsettled by the notion of opening up. But… it’s the Monkey Queen. So it.. should be okay, right?

“I want to make you proud.”

Sun Wukong’s expression softens, and she wraps an arm around his shoulders, pulling the boy close in a tight embrace. “You already make me proud, kid. You don’t have to prove anything.”

MK leaned into the touch, feeling a wave of comfort wash over him. Even from the start she’d been like this with him- protective, nurturing… and maybe a bit overbearing at times. But he didn’t mind. It made him feel safe, like no matter what challenges lay ahead, he wasn’t alone.

MK chuckled, turning his face up to meet his idol’s eyes.” I’ll keep up,” he triumphantly declares, pumping a fist.” I promise.”

“Good.” Wukong shifted, her clawed hand lightly missing his spiked locks. “Now, how about we head back to the shop and grab something to eat? You’ve earned it.”

MK’s stomach growled at the mention of food, and he nodded so eagerly that she wondered if his head wouldn’t ache from the motion. “You know, I won’t say no to a good meal.”

The Monkey Queen stood up, dusting off her mentee’s clothes before offering him a hand. “Of course you won’t. C’mon, my treat.”

———————————————————————-

Now, to answer your question about how she acts in regards to her own cub… in general I think she’s much more doting than the OG, willing to express herself through constant displays of physical affection, in ways that are far more varied.

Constant forehead smooching, cuddles, grooming sessions, all of it! Mama Wukong never wants to let go of her baby! Sit down and let her paint your nails! Let her comb and braid your hair! Let her make you a nice lunch (loaded with mystical drugs to keep you nice and sleepy for extra cuddles), or at least a filling snack! Let her pepper your face with kisses as she spins you in her powerful arms!

Lots and lots of indulgent fluffy days of binging unhealthy foods and watching cozy reruns of old shows, your head in her lap as she hums and does up your hair with her lazy hands.

Lots of reminiscing about old suitors as she considers the quietest and quickest ways to kill anyone who makes the futile attempt to pursue you in the same way.

Despite her obsessive behavior, Wukong struggles with conflicting feelings about wanting her child to be strong and independent, just like her! She pushes you to train hard and become powerful, but when you inevitably seek their own freedom or autonomy, she’d experience a mix of pride and heartbreak, pushing her deeper into possessive tendencies.

If you ever tried to leave or even just start to break away, Wukong’s worst traits would bubble up like hellfire. Just as she fought against an entire realm’s authority, she would absolutely wage a war to keep her child close, all while justifying her actions as love.

The Monkey Queen is also more willing to take routes outside of brute force if it means securing extra protection for Y/N. If Macaque or maybe Azure (or someone else like Erlang Shen) wants to try and play “suitor”, well, she’s not too interested… until the thought arises that having him around makes you extra safe! And then she’s willing to think on it.

(That’s assuming that you aren’t one of their biological kids to begin with, in which case there might be a sort of “yandere triangle”. Azure/Macaque/Erlang Shen doing his damndest to reclaim his wife, before he learns that she’s had a child while he was gone... or maybe Pigsy and Tang decided that MK needs his mentor in a more ‘accessible’ position, and plot to drag her to Megapolis…)

Lots of potential monkey mama shenanigans, basically!