#ruewrites

[ruewrites]

Kinktober 2022 Day 31: Sex Dice

AO3

Ship: Asmodeus/Diavolo/Mephistopheles/Solomon

Word Count: 1678

Warnings: suggestive

A/N:

HAPPY PRIDE.

IT IS DONE.

IT HAD BEEN 2 YEARS.

BUT I FINISHED.

I hope you all enjoy the last chapter! I AM FREEEEEEE. MARTHA I'M COMING HOME SWEETIE.

Comments are appreciated :3c

Mephisto wasn't necessarily interested in another Asmo night. Of course it could be a chance to get more information, maybe  even enough to write a juicy paper, but Asmodeus was an open book for matters that would interest him. There wasn’t a single thing that Asmo hadn’t shared with the world. But when he heard the Devildom’s Prince would be in attendance from some overexcited babbling, well, how could he possibly refuse?

The night started off normally enough, the House of Lamentation was oddly quiet as it's only occupants seemed to consist of Asmodeus, himself, Lord Diavolo, and Solomon.  Asmodeus was busy pouring demonus, assuring that no one's cup remained empty for long. A few glasses in and the Avatar of Lust started getting handsy with the other attendees. It took almost everything within Mephistopheles to withhold his horror as Asmodeus helped himself to a handful of the prince's chest. It was shameless and downright deplorable.

How a Lord of the Devildom could fling himself around so carelessly was beyond him. It was even more baffling to watch the way Diavolo laughed and curled his fingers under Asmodeus’ chin. 

“Playful this evening aren’t you?”

“He’s always playful,” Solomon’s cheeks had started to turn a rather rosy shade of pink. Figures the human would fall first, even if he was the most powerful sorcerer in existence. His fingers lazily started to trace up Asmo’s spine, causing the demon to shudder, “It never fails to bring a light to my day.”

“Well it isn’t a side I have the pleasure of seeing as often.” 

“Because Lucifer would kill me,” Asmodeus was pouting and looking up at Diavolo through thick lashes. It was humiliating.

So humiliating that Mephisto couldn’t suppress the scoff that escaped his lips. 

“As he should! You should be able to hold yourself with more decorum,” his eyes flickered back down to his own glass. It was more than obvious that he was currently the most sober being in the room, “Throwing your body at Devildom royalty, surely the Avatar of Lust should be able to hold himself better.”

He couldn’t be too sharp with his tongue. Despite how despicable he found the entire display, he was in Asmodeus’ house, he had to tread with some caution. The last thing that Mephistopheles wanted was to make an ass of himself.

“Awww Mephi, are you feeling ignored?” Asmodeus was practically on top of him before he could react, “Don't worry, there's plenty of me to give enough attention to everyone, especially a handsome devil like you.”

With a noise that he was less than proud of leaving his mouth, Mephisto backed away from the other demon, eyes wide and at a loss for words. Diavolo's laughter only heightened his embarrassment surrounding the situation. 

“There's no need to be shy Mephisto, we're all friends here,” Diavolo shifted and reached into his pocket, and pulled out a set of dice, “I believe now might be a good time for these?”

“Ooooh you brought them! Oh these are perfect.”

“Of course I did, you made them seem so enticing.”

Mephisto dared to come closer  to glance at what they  were so excited over. When he did realize, he almost couldn't believe his eyes. There was no way Diavolo would take interest in such a thing right? Especially not in this type of situation! It didn't make sense, it was far from appropriate behavior from royalty!

“Those are… rather provocative dice,” he said, eyes never leaving the objects in the prince's hand.

“You can just say sex dice,” Asmodeus giggled, falling back into Solomon's lap, "And these ones are rather tame. Right Solomon?”

Solomon hummed in agreement, threading his fingers through Asmodeus’ hair who trilled in delight in return.

“Ah, my apologies, I hope they aren't too boring for you two.”

“No no, that's- Solomon, behave- that's alright. I think they're perfect for tonight.”

With how the human was starting to act, Mephisto doubted any prompting was needed, and perhaps it was time for him to leave. Then again-

His eyes drifted back to Diavolo. He was so bright and brimming with laughter. That glorious smile corrupted his better judgment. Instead of leaving the room like he should, he scooted closer to the circle, curiosity and the flickers of desire licking at the back of his mind. And of course someone had to prevent glasses from tipping and spilling demonus on the floor, and it seemed he was perfect for the job.

“May I go first then?”

“Be our guest, I've made myself comfortable,”Asmodeus slid further into Solomon's lap and his eyelids lowered slightly.

Mephisto watching intently as Diavolo rolled the dice in his hand. His motions were fluid and caused Mephisto's thoughts to drift to what those hands were capable of. He was positive that among other things, they were most certainly warm.

The dice fell to the floor with a sharp crack and rolled a small distance away before stopping. 

“Bite Neck?”

“Mmm, it's a nice one to start with,” Diavolo rubbed his chin in contemplation, “The only question is who to start with.”

His eyes shifted around the room and Mephisto could feel his heart thudding in his chest. 

Asmodeus let out a small noise as he found himself squished between the two men. 

Solomon didn't have time to react. Diavolo was already on him, “From the number of hickeys I've seen on your neck, I'd say you quite enjoy these.”

There was no time for embarrassment, Solomon's eyes flew open at the first peck to his jugular. Diavolo's hands were placed on Asmodeus’ knees and running down his thighs as he marked Solomon's neck. He was slotted firmly between the lust demon's thighs and appeared to be thoroughly enjoying himself.  Solomon certainly was if his noises were anything to go by. 

It was only supposed to be a bite. Nothing more. Why was he going further? 

The whole lecherous scene went on for far too long in his own personal opinion, and he was all too relieved when Diavolo finally seemed happy with his work. 

“Someone's haaaard,” Asmodeus sang, earning a swat to his chest.

“Shush, you go next.”

“No matter what it is I do, it's not gonna make you any less hard.”

Asmodeus didn't even bother taking time to roll the dice properly, instead he threw them in the air with a  flick of his wrist.  They bounced off Mephisto's calf and onto the ground. He squinted at the dice as they landed.

“What's it say Mephi?”

“Suck, lips?”

“Is that an invitation?”

How Asmodeus was upon him so fast he would never know. He was quick to situate himself in Mephisto's lap and framed his face with his hands. “There's no need to be shy,” he purred, “I hate seeing people left out.”

Their lips were inches away now, he could feel Asmodeus’ smile, “And some people like it when you put on a show.

He stiffened initially when Asmodeus brought his lip into his mouth. It was uncouth, down right debauchery, but then he saw the Prince's gaze so attentive upon him. How could he toss away a golden opportunity?

Placing his hand on the back of Asmo's head, he took control of the situation. It was amazing how much a fistful of hair could accomplish when one wanted to take control of a kiss. His other hand squeezed at Asmo's ass, eliciting noises with each touch. At some point Asmodeus had started to grind down on him. 

The sound of a belt being undone caught his attention.

He yanked Asmodeus's head away so the demon's head bent at a rather harsh angle. There wasn’t a single protest from the demon, rather he’d let out a rather pleased squeak. Diavolo was staring at him, hand on Solomon's cock and lazily stroking. The human was gripping the Prince’s thigh, every now and again his hips would jerk as his cock twitched, and Diavolo would stop for a period before continuing to jerk him off. All eyes were on him now. Asmodeus had put him in the spotlight, and now he had to perform.

“You're going to use your mouth on me until I say you're done,” he said, lowering his voice. His eyes bore into Asmodeus never wavering, never faltering. 

Asmodeus’ grin never faltered, “I’m glad to see you've finally decided to join us.”

***

Mephisto woke up the next morning, head pounding and in a messy tangle of limbs. At some point, there had been more, salacious dice introduced. His head spun with the way they swapped positions and partners, and the memory of Diavolo between his thighs was one burned into his memory. It was a position he dreamed about being in.

Solomon hadn’t been lacking in talent with his hips either. Honestly Mephisto had to admit, he was surprised the human could hold his own in their little rendezvous. His stamina was impressive, especially considering he had more than outdone his estimated lifespan. 

But alas all good things must come to an end, and he could risk being caught in such a scandalous position. He went to move but was caught between two pairs of limbs. Diavolo to his left, and Solomon to his right.

It didn't occur to him that he didn't see Asmodeus. Not until the flames of pleasure once again started to stroke at his lions. He managed to stifle a groan, just as a familiar face popped up from under the blanket.

“Quiet now, we don't wanna wake these sleepy heads up,” he grinned, “And I don't believe you ever told me to stop putting my mouth to work on you. 

Mephisto bit down on his lower lip as his one hand stealthily reached down to bury his fingers in Asmodeus’ hair. 

He'd find his pants after.

Besides, in this moment, he was too busy getting lost in the eyes of the silent, but smirking Prince. Soon, he'd be getting lost in his lips.

Oh he could see the headlines now.

But first, he wanted to see some stars.

[pseudonymphomania]

Sometimes all we need is a hug…

… so Diavolo decrees today to be Hug Day. I hope everyone has a great day, and if not, someone will always be there to hug you.

Thank you @cslfallen @hgvvvh @turtleybeachin @revoleotion @ruewrites; you all know what you did.

A special thanks to @gurgurlac for being my first fan here and a special special thanks to @possum-with-anxiety for going down my entire catalogue of work and liking everything, even the most unhinged of nonsense lol. Don’t think I don’t notice the shenanigans going on in my notes.

And, though I won’t tag everyone, I hope you know that I appreciate you in particular, the person looking at this message, because even though I don’t know you, the fact that you can see me means that you and I exist in this infinite cosmos together, drawn together by the randomest of forces. Closing the gap only takes a hello.

[boxbusiness]

https://www.tumblr.com/ruewrites/759897022169071616/the-next-gen-kids?source=share

I wanted to share some of my kiddos too if that okie (on Anon bc my blog is a sideblog :') ) but I love seeing everyone's kids and people sharing their fankids! It has me kicking my fert and giggling.

That’s pretty sweet that Solodeus’ kid is named after Lilith. Cute next Gen you got there ^^

[radarchives]

Putting MC in the Devildom with my terrible facial recall would be hilarious. On the first day at RAD, MC would probably walk up to the sophisticated-looking man with dark hair next to Diavolo and say, "You're... Lucifer... right?" And a peacock would lose its wings that day.

my dear friend @ruewrites is a staunch supporter of the mephistopheles dyes his hair theory

and i can only image it really started because of a situation like that

like he's screaming crying throwing up because they do not!! look alike!! and he WILL make sure of that

sitting at the barber's with mucus and snot running down his face and he shows a picture of lucifer like "make sure i do not look like that"

[leviathanswingman]

The Lament of Asmodeus/ a character study

gift for @ruewrites

category: gen

warnings: violence, blood

word count: 1965

Asmodeus was standing in the middle of his bathroom, staring down at the tub as it was rapidly filling up with crystal clear water. There was a sweet scent, almost sickeningly so, wafting through the humid air. Several flacons and phials were lined up on the edge of the tub, most of them already halfway empty with how often Asmo tended to use them. Mixing them together and watching them form bubbles in the bath had become somewhat of a calming ritual to him. Today however, this little trick of his didn’t seem to work.

Asmodeus was simply standing there, his eyes unfocused and his mind far away as the rushing of water filled his ears and numbed his mind. He watched the way it came gushing out of the faucet, gallon after gallon, the steam rising up and turning the air clammy.

Slowly, he crouched down, reached over the edge and dipped one finger in, the water forming little ripples around it, almost as if trying to flee from his unholy hands. The water turned the lightest shade of carmine as soon as his finger dove in. Asmo flinched, pulling back quickly as if he’d been burnt. His chest was heaving with every new breath. It was getting harder and harder to breathe.

Red, that was all he was able to see. Both of his hands were drenched in it, and there were the remains of something stuck under his perfectly manicured nails. The moment he took note of it, he could also feel it. Screwing his eyes shut, he plunged his hands straight back into the water, trying to rid himself of the dirt and grime. Tears were threatening to spill, only stopped by a certain kind of numbness that had been spreading out from his heart to his fingertips ever since he’d returned home.

After a moment had passed, he slowly lifted his head back up again. Crouching opposite from him was his own reflection, staring back at him unnervingly.

Dried blood was dragging down his hair, making his pretty curls look flat and droopy. His eyes, big with terror, were makeup free and deep set, the bags under his eyes more than prominent.

For once, Asmodeus regretted having filled the room with mirrors on each wall. There was no way to escape from what had become so glaringly obvious. There was no way to run away from that demon he did not recognise. It felt like his reflection was taunting him, beckoning to come closer and dig deeper.

It seemed like the little dove had been right after all. Asmodeus, they called him. Back in the Celestial Realm, he was known as the jewel of the heavens. Every angel, no matter how old or young, used to marvel at the mere sight of him, so pure, so divine. The taste of his name had been like honey on everybody’s tongues, sweet and sure to stick. If they were to see him now, what would they think? Would their eyes widen in shock? Would they perhaps avert their gazes, too embarrassed to even look him in the eye? What would they say in the comforts of their homes, when they thought no one was listening, stripped of all social kindness? The possibilities were maddening to think about and Asmo couldn’t help but keep mulling it over in his mind until the thought was familiar enough to lack its original bite. It was a vicious circle.

He raised his head and opened his eyes again. Staring back at him was someone he barely recognized. Perhaps the demon in front of him was a more accurate representation of Asmodeus than his angel self could have ever been. Only now, it seemed like the outside finally matched the inside.

Asmodeus was trapped in his demon form. Frustratingly enough, he hadn’t been able to transform back in spite of his best efforts. It hadn’t taken long for his initial annoyance to turn into hot flashes of panic. He didn’t know what to do. No one had ever been there to teach him what he should do in a moment like this. No one had told him.

For a second, he considered calling for Lucifer, but quickly decided against it. There was no need to reveal the disappointment that he had become to the brother he idolised the most.

“Go back,” he whispered to himself, lifting one hand to touch his horns with shaky fingers. “Come on, retreat,” he urged, but his body refused to listen.

Frustrated, Asmo pushed his hands against his face just to drop them back into the water immediately. Then, an agitated tear escaped the corner of his eye. It seemed like the water hitting his face had been his last straw.

Asmodeus began to weep bitterly. He turned around, his back leaning against the edge of the tub, and let his head fall back into his hands.

He took in a shaky breath. Ever since their fall, his brothers had made sure to bring up time and time again how Asmo was the only one who hadn’t changed, how he’d adapted to their new environment far too quickly while staying exactly the same as he’d always been.

However, Asmo knew better. He was nothing but a fraud sitting in a glass house. His brothers had no clue how terribly wrong they were. After all, it was all a farce, a face he put up deliberately to keep his brothers hopeful and smiling. That little feeling that had already been there back in the celestial realm, growing and growing, that unhinged sort of agitation he tried to keep hidden in the depths of his soul, held tight like a closed fist, had come undone the moment he’d fallen. There was no way to gather the pieces of his sanity when they’d already spread to the winds.

Even now, he couldn’t understand what his brothers were seeing in him. Of course, he made sure to always be there for them, to cheer them up and make their days a little brighter. But that didn’t change the fact that even back in the Celestial Realm, he’d already shown the first signs of rot. Sure, he’d been delightful and sweet, yet the amount of times he’d been chased through the celestial realm by Raphael for not listening and acting up certainly spoke against his commitment to his piety. The hours upon hours he’d spent on their holy grounds, bent by the waist, head towards the floor, praying for forgiveness, begging for endurance, clinging to the slowly unraveling pieces of his holiness. He’d jumped on every piece of adoration he was offered, believed in everyone calling him pretty and perfect and free of flaws and thought it enough. Recently, Asmodeus found himself missing living with his eyes closed and his heart blind.

He’d always know there was something off with him. That certain unrest in his heart had grown and grown until it finally flew off the rails. How could he pretend to be good after what he’d done? Of course, Asmo was aware that good wasn’t a term used to describe demons. Still, he couldn’t say goodbye to it just yet, couldn’t help but yearn for an ideal that didn’t apply to him anymore.

Asmodeus still remembered the euphoria he felt when his claws dug through the other demon’s chest, their heart still pulsating, heavy and oh so warm in his hand. An excited giggle, a little trill, had escaped his lips when he realized that the demon was about to take his last struggling breath, Asmodeus being the sole cause of it. It was power, it was an immense strength he'd never had before. It was almost orgasmic in nature.

He’d pulled the heart close to his own, cradled it in his arms before sinking his teeth into the flesh, eyes still on that dying demon whose eyes showed nothing but defiance and fear. Blood spurted out, sullying Asmo’s clothes and running down his open maw. The taste was incredibly sweet, delicious like sin.

Once he’d come off his high, realization hit him. Of what he’d done, of what he’d become. Perhaps this was his punishment for abandoning his father, their home. Bitter tears rolled down his cheeks, mixing with blood and grime. He was afraid of what he’d become, how much more he could change and how monstrous he could truly become.

Asmodeus opened his eyes, and met his own reflection in the water, his bloodied, feral self smirking back at him, his expression wild, eyes still gleaming with a condescending sort of ferocity. Before he even realized he was doing it, he was digging his fingers into the corner of his mouth, trying to get rid of that cursed smile. Asmodeus started to hyperventilate.

Then, suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Asmo’s head whipped around, panic fresh in his chest. All words were lost on his tongue as he waited with stuttering breaths. No one could see him like this.

Someone cleared their throat outside of the door. “Asmodeus.” Lucifer’s voice cut through the unruliness of Asmo’s mind, clear as day. “May I come in?” his brother asked after a moment of silence.

Asmodeus swallowed once. He couldn’t let him in. There was no way Lucifer could see him like this. His brothers didn’t know. They simply couldn’t know and he didn't want them to find out.

He saw the door handle being pushed down and panicked. “Don’t- don’t come in!” He realized how panicked it had come out. “I’m in the bath right now, I’m naked!” he exclaimed, certain that it would turn his brother away, the lie bloody on his tongue.

“I'm coming in.” Lucifer's voice cut in mercilessly. There was no stopping him.

Asmodeus buried his head further in his hands and refused to look up. He didn't want to see the look he'd find on his oldest brother's face. He wouldn't be able to take the disappointment and disgust.

“Asmodeus?” His brother's steps quickened. He heard the sound of the tap being closed. Asmodeus sniffed and remained quiet.

Then, he heard shuffling. It seemed like Lucifer had knelt down next to him. Slowly, Asmodeus lifted his head.

“Are you hurt?” Lucifer asked after a moment of silence.

Asmo shook his head and bit his lip. “This isn't-” he started, but stopped himself. This isn't what? Wasn't this exactly what it looked like? His shoulders shook with this new weight he had to carry. “This isn't mine,” he finally brought out, his voice small and defeated. Then, he allowed himself to glance at his brother after he wiped his eyes. There was a strange expression on Lucifer's face, a mixture of exasperation and sorrow.

“Tell me what happened,” he said after a beat of silence. It came out sounding a bit stunted, a bit strange.

Asmo shook his head and breathed in deeply. A sob threatened to bubble up again and he pressed his fists against his eyes in order to stop it. “I happened. I don't know what went wrong I just-”

“You let go,” Lucifer suggested. Slowly, he sat down next to his brother.

“I killed them. I ripped their heart out and made it mine. And you know what's even worse? It felt so good.”

Carefully, Lucifer put one hand on Asmo’s back, rubbing it up and down in a soothing pattern. Asmodeus curled further in on himself.

“It will get easier. It may not seem like it, but you will get better. You're a demon now, Asmodeus. The Celestial Realm's rules don't apply to us anymore. You have to learn to let go.”

Asmodeus put his head on Lucifer's shoulder and pressed his eyes shut.

“I don't think I know how,” he whispered quietly.

[obeymebutcursed]

Hello! I'm still here and also hoping the fandom becomes more active again. All of the folks I've met through here have been so lovely and sweet💕

Hope you're doing well.

-RueWrites

I wish! I feel like the fandom fell out so hard :(

I've met some of the coolest people through this fandom, I miss the good times!

[galionne-vibin]

Tagged by @stingyslegslookweird! Let's go!

Favorite Color: Changes almost day to day. Right now I would say orange and pink?

Last Song i Listened To: Congratulations, You're In a Cult! by Sin Shake Sin

Currently Reading: I need to catch up on a few of my manga (+Anima, Dinosaurs Sanctuary & Vampeerz). Once I can get my Kindle back I'm planning on reading through some classic scifi/horror.

Currently Watching: I'm soooo far behind on Dungeon Meshi and Ranger Reject!

Currently Craving: mmmmm chocolate,,

Coffee or Tea: Hot chocolate. If I really have to pick one I'll go with tea. I cannot for the life of me drink coffee.

Hobbies to try: I recently got into Gunpla and I love it so so much, so I want to keep that going and get into more complex model kits. I also wanna learn how to sew and customize clothing.

Current AU: Augh, too many! The two main ones right now would be Metal Gear Solid SERPENTNEST, in which all of FOXHOUND survives and goes on a little adventure together ; and an untitled AU in which only Decoy Octopus survives, transes her gender and goes on a quest to reunite Psycho Mantis & Liquid Snake in the afterlife (among other things)

Tag 9 people you want to get to know better/want to catch up with: uuuuh uhm uhm okay uh @pleistocene-polina @doc-jay-bluebrushpainter @grimsdeadb0nes @xparkrangerx @shevuun @ruewrites @centipede-podcast @t4tliquidmantis @alexeithegoat @robot-autistic

[revoleotion]

hubris and distrust

this is something I lovingly titled "fanfic fanfic" and it is set in @ruewrites TABOL universe. Except that I don't actually understand a lot about it because I only really got into it at like 3am last night.

That being said, I have many headcanons about Barbatos in this universe, so naturally I had to write something. I'm very sorry if this doesn't fit with the universe, in that case just consider it an AU of your AU fanfic.

tags and warnings: Barbatos-centric, aromantic Barbatos, panic attack (not in detail), Luke curses a lot

.

Barbatos could not be trusted.

It was a fact that had defined him for ever since he could remember. At times, Barbatos liked to think he was never born at all, he was simply spawned out of feelings of hubris and distrust. Barbatos had been defined by secrecy for so long and - like Lucifer’s brothers would say - the simple act of “fucking around and finding out”. The world had been a messy place for Barbatos until he found his home.

Barbatos’ home was, by all means, not a physical place. It was a person.

Over the years Barbatos had come to terms with his lack of romantic attraction to anyone. He was very glad for that, especially when it turned out that the person he loved the most, in all the ways he could, was in love with someone else. Barbatos had never felt out of place in that relationship. The world had become less messy after he found his home, after all. When Diavolo and Lucifer found each other, it was like he seamlessly fit into place with the two of them. Not as a part of their relationship but as an element that was always going to be there.

Before Barbatos had met Diavolo, the world had been full of tempting, suffocating possibilities. He had tried ways to make it seem manageable, ways to make it smaller at all costs. He had turned a blind eye to all the overwhelming options, he had forced himself to become awfully, achingly lonely.

Barbatos was not lonely anymore.

Except that he was.

Had he become predictable? Had he become more unstable in his attempt to settle?

He had friends. Luke was understanding, if not comforting when Barbatos was filled with that deep, irrational, foolish panic that he was missing a part of his own body. It drove him insane, and it had to be absurd to watch. As powerful Barbatos had been in his previous life (previous, like he somehow died and was reborn at Diavolo’s side), the world around him knew him as a butler. Nothing more. Except that sometimes his old life was leaking through, his sarcasm, his strictness, his manner of expression, everything that made him a powerful human but not a good butler.

(Barbatos had secretly decided that if he had to become a bad butler to see Diavolo again, he was going to become the worst butler the world had ever seen.)

Azazel had warned him about this, in gentle words paired with a judging, if not hateful expression. The accusation had been as blatant as it had been wrong. He had said, “I wouldn’t resort to even more poison. Whatever you create will be served first to the person you claim to love.”

Barbatos had smiled. And smiled. And when his hands had started shaking, long afterwards, with Luke sitting on the edge of his bed and whispering soothing words that were far from reassuring, he had still smiled. He hated himself for it but it was the only defense he had.

Azazel knew of the person Barbatos was trying so hard not to be. He knew of the person Barbatos had to become to break through, break out, return home.

Barbatos could not be trusted. After all that time. Because he was made out of distrust. Because he never made sense. Because he was never born, he was created.

Simeon didn’t like the person Barbatos had once been. He, too, thought that Barbatos never truly grew out of being that bitter creation. Simeon and Barbatos had never truly fought because none of them were very confrontational but there had been discussions one word away from being hostile, expressions one twitch of a muscle away from being hateful. There was none of that now.

Because Simeon and Luke couldn’t be trusted either.

“This is ridiculous,” Simeon revealed, his legs crossed and looking up to Barbatos and Luke from the floor. There’s enough space on the bed, since Barbatos is known not to take up much space after all, but they’re not close enough friends to sit together on the same bed, even with no romantic or sexual intentions attached.

“You are many things but you are loyal.”

“I will take this as a compliment,” Barbatos informed him, and his smile became a little warmer, a little less painful.

“It was meant to be one.”

“I can never be sure with you.”

Simeon smiled, if only for a moment. “I can’t forgive you for stealing my apprentice but I hope you can forgive me for misjudging you.”

Barbatos looked down on him in all his angelic beauty, his face nothing but earnest, and he decided that he liked Simeon. Simeon understood how it was to have everything you once thought you were fade until you couldn’t hold onto it anymore. Simeon understood how it was to be happy in a way nobody wanted to grant you. Simeon knew how it was to lose faith in the person you were for so long.

“You’re not the only one who thinks I cannot be trusted,” Barbatos said after a long pause.

“Well, that’s bullshit.” Luke’s voice was loud, yet not raised enough for anyone outside to hear. “What a villain you are, having a breakdown because someone accused you of hurting the person you love the most. You should rot in jail for all eternity.”

Barbatos wanted to say that it hadn’t been a breakdown, and that he was fine, really, but Luke had been too kind to him to be lied to. Who knows, maybe this was how Barbatos broke down. Silently. He was a silent person, so it made sense that his breakdowns matched that.

“I miss him,” he said, and to his horror he couldn’t keep his voice even when he said that. He still wasn’t sure how to be friends with someone who wasn’t Diavolo. Sure, Barbatos had gotten closer with Lucifer over the years but he was convinced that he never would’ve been this amicable with him if it weren’t for Diavolo wanting them to be. (That being said, Barbatos was glad that he got to know Lucifer. Lucifer was similar to him in more ways than Lucifer or Barbatos himself would ever want to admit.)

“No shit,” Luke said gently. “But you’ll see him again. You have to. If there’s any good in the world, you will get to see him again.”

Barbatos didn’t have to look down on Simeon to catch the air of sadness around him, the doubt, the loss of his faith that was so profound that it tinted the air around them. Just as quickly as it came, it was over again, and Simeon smiled up to them like nothing had happened.

“Of course,” he replied to Luke. “Not to mention that Solomon has a plan.”

Right. The plan. Barbatos was going to have to dive deep into the memories of who he had once been.

It was worth it, of course. After all, it was for the person Barbatos would both die and murder for. He would burn down the entire kingdom to make sure Diavolo was going to be safe.

Hopefully, it wouldn’t have to come to that. The world wasn’t as vast as it once had seemed, and Barbatos was no longer lonely.

[ruewrites]

Helloo! I dunno if your requests are still open or if you forgot to change it. If that is the case, feel free to ignore this.

I wanted to request a platonic scenario with Simeon and Solomon. I was thinking of a hurt/comfort where Simeon comforts Solomon when he is going through a bad time, probably something related to his immortality or the people he lost during his long life. I mean, that is a suggestion, but you can do anything you want, I just want Simeon comforting Solomon because their friendship is very cute <33

Pray for Us

AO3

Word Count: 1917

Warnings: light mentions of Solomon forgetting to eat (I know this is a little canon, our wizard not taking care of himself, but I still want to put the warning here)

A/N: I think... it may still have turned out a little sadder than I intended... But I hope you still enjoy Anon! I'm sorry it took me so long to write :,) I hope you enjoy!

It started out as a trick of the eye, a feather that only appeared to be less than perfect due to a trick of the light. It wasn't anything, it would never be anything. Yet it lingered in the back of Simeon's mind, floating and drifting among his thoughts. 

He had all intents and purposes to ignore it entirely, to swat it away like a pesky mosquito. But the mosquito bit him, and soon the mark graduated from an itching rash to a burning wound. He couldn't deny what was happening anymore, he couldn't ignore Raphael's presence in Purgatory Hall.

Now it wasn't so much Raphael himself that was the issue, but it was what he represented. 

Simeon knew something had been brewing for a while now. He could feel it deep within him and now that it was coming to light. Acknowledging it was something he absolutely couldn't do. It was out of the question. Because even if it was happening, acknowledgement made it real.

It was easy to ignore.

He was content with sweeping up the feathers he left in his wake.

But it would all come crashing to a head.

It had been a gloomy day already, no one had left the house. Rain pounded on the window outside and the occasional boom of thunder ran out in the distance, stepping ever so closer to Purgatory Hall. No one had seen a wink of Solomon in a few days at this point, so Simeon decided it would be appropriate to bring him some soup and hot tea. He knocked once, then a second time. After no answer he slowly opened the door.

He figured it would be safe, it wasn't like Asmodeus was paying a visit.

But looking back, maybe he should have left the items by the door and left. He could have sent a text, but his nature wouldn't allow him. 

Solomon was hunched over his desk. Cups of lukewarm coffee and tea were scattered all throughout the room. Some were even completely cold, left long forgotten in the depths of the room. Some were in ceramics and some in disposable cups from various cafes. No doubt those had been brought to him during hours he definitely should not be substituting them for sleep. His foot brushed against one of the aforementioned cups, sending it gracefully gliding  across the floor. 

Finally, the human seemed to be snapped out of whatever daze he was in and slowly turned his head to look at Simeon.

And he looked terrible.

The bags under his eyes were dark and his eyelids were heavy. A haze still had a hold on him, but he was fighting against it just enough to feign normalcy. It was a slight cue that screamed ‘ignore this, pretend it never happened’. 

Sure, there were times the angels chewed their human roommate out for neglecting to care for himself. But there were also times, where Simeon sensed it was best to ignore the chilling wrongs hiding beneath thin veils of normalcy. And it chilled him every single time. 

Solomon offered a nod and looked down at the food in Simeon’s hands. 

“Lunch time already?”

“Dinner actually.”

“Ah.”

You skipped two meals once again.

Simeon knew it wasn’t on purpose. Sometimes it felt like Solomon forgot that time still moved around him, that it hadn’t stopped entirely. 

“I can leave it on your nightstand if-”

“No,” Solomon stopped him, raising a hand, “Would you mind staying actually? I could use the company.”

Simeon froze. 

Then, swallowing the tight knot in his throat, he moved to sit on the edge of Solomon’s bed. Solomon joined him, pulling the nightstand over as a makeshift table for the meal. 

Solomon stared at the bowl in front of him for a second too long for Simeon’s comfort, and for a moment he reflected his age. 

“Soup.”

“I figured it would be nice on a day like this. Your room is freezing.”

“I like it cold,” he murmured, lowering his eyelids and bringing the spoon to his lips.

Simeon couldn’t help but note how frail and vulnerable he looked. 

Eyes closed, he took his first sip, and then a soft smile spread across his features, “It’s wonderful. Did you use herbs from the Celestial Realm?”

“I did.”

“Fascinating,” Solomon turned back to him, “You’ll have to show me where to get them one day, or bring some back for me. I’d love to use them.”

How much longer did he have to go back?

How fast was that unforgiving clock ticking along?

"I've been doing a lot of thinking," Solomon continued, bringing another spoonful of soup to his mouth, "It's been an incredibly long time since I've been this happy. I used to isolate myself, the whole immortality thing makes human connection a little more depressing. But now, I don't have to worry about losing my connections anymore."

They made eye contact and suddenly breathing became an impossible task. His chest heaved but the air never came. He started heaving and Solomon rose with a start. 

Why had those words shaken him so much?

He knew the answer, but in the same breath he refused to acknowledge it. 

Acknowledgement made it real.

“Simeon? Did I say something that upset you?” Solomon asked. His chair creaked as he stood. This wasn’t at all how he wanted Solomon to find out. He’d wanted to sit him down when he finally settled his nerves, or perhaps he would have never told him at all in lieu of finding a remedy for his ailment. But that wasn’t how it would happen. Simeon couldn’t conjure up incredibly good lies on a good day. Now Solomon was approaching him, eyes full of concern and curiosity.

Now he was here, standing before him, the room silent except for the ticking of a clock, counting down the final seconds until Simeon shattered. 

“Simeon?”

Solomon’s voice felt so distant, echoing in the deepest recesses of his mind. His own voice felt strange and foreign to him, “That reality you mentioned, I’m afraid it may be no more.”

As if on cue, another feather fell from his form, drifting to the floor as the final punctuation to his statement.  He couldn’t bring himself to look at his companion’s face as he processed the words. It was cruel what Simeon had just done to him, beyond cruel. Would it have been an even more unforgivable act if he had continued to let Solomon believe such a pretty little lie? Perhaps even let him believe it until the day Simeon hair went gray. How long did it take them to do that?

Words failed them. There wasn’t a thing either one of them could say. Nothing could remedy the tragedy playing out, and Simeon had no power over the pen crafting his narrative. For the first time since The Celestial War, Simeon was completely, and utterly, helpless. 

It was Solomon who finally broke the silence, “Will you still spend time with me?”

There was no question of why. It honestly surprised Simeon. He expected Solomon to bargain and plead, to immediately search for a solution. It wasn’t like him to accept the unacceptable. Was it shock? The complete shattering of the reality he had just come to accept? Perhaps Simeon was much crueler than he’d realized he’d been. Ing He had completely broken this man he cared so much for.

Solomon was in pieces, and it was his fault. 

How could he deny him more time?

“Of course I will.”

The silence lingered, continuing where it left off as they sat together. Solomon tapped his fingers against the table before them. Eyes transfixed on something beyond his own sight. Simeon watched his features for any ounce of a betrayal of his emotions. 

“Is there anything I can do? Anything we can do?”

Simeon toyed with his fingertips, wishing for a moment that he had anything else to do with his hands. He knew what Solomon was asking, yet he saw no need to conjure up some pretty lie for him, no need to veil the truth he was coming to accept. That would only make it hurt more. Solomon didn’t need sweet lies, but Simeon could deliver the truth as gently as he could. 

“Take care of Luke for me would you?”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s the future you know,” Simeon’s voice wavered, “I don’t want to destroy a bright future.” Simeon’s feather wasn’t the only thing that fell to the floor. Luke was all the hope he had. He was the only good thing left he could have seen about the Celestial Realm, and now he would be the only good thing left about the Celestial Realm. Simeon had wanted to guide and mentor him through all the growing he would have left to do, wanted to be there to watch him grow into a fine young man. Now he would only be there for a fraction of his life. He wouldn’t get to see him grow, not really. Simeon would only be able to picture what his future would bring as he aged so much faster than him.

And Solomon-

Poor Solomon.

Simeon genuinely looked forward to all the growing he would do as well. He was the most powerful and interesting human he’d ever met. Strange yes, but that was part of his charm. What would Luke’s future look like with Solomon there? Most likely Michael wouldn’t let him with Solomon full time. Oh Michael…. What would Luke be like under his care? The idea of him being Luke’s only caretaker made Simeon feel quite bleak. All the work he’d done, all the lessons he tried to teach, would it all be for nothing? Would Michael close the blinds that Simeon had worked so hard to lift.

There weren’t many young angels anymore.

Luke was the future.

And the future seemed uncertain and fragile, and Simeon was powerless.

“No.”

Solomon’s voice wasn’t sharp, and yet it still managed to cut through the room. It was a tone so foreign, not one Simeon had ever heard before.

“What? Solomon-” he barely had time to turn before Solomon’s arms were wrapped tightly around him. His fingers fastened around the fabric of his shirt. Solomon’s grip was suffocating, desperate.  Simeon wasn’t sure what to do with his own hands, and so they fell to his side, limp and useless. 

“I’m not doing that,” Simeon swore he heard his breath hitch, “Because I’m going to find a way to fix this. There has to be a way, there has to.” 

His shoulder was dampening now, it crept into the fabric leaving a cold and uncomfortable wetness as the seconds passed.  More feathers fell to the floor each time Solomon moved. All it did was continue to make Simeon’s poor heart ache. Eventually his hands lifted to Solomon’s shoulders, a soft and mournful smile forming on his lips as he leaned into Solomon’s sorrowful embrace. 

“Perhaps we should start praying,” the words were ironic, he knew this, and yet he couldn’t help himself, “For us.”

The rain continued to fill the silence, and Simeon couldn’t bring himself to let go. Solomon was a determined man, Simeon knew this. There wasn’t an ambition he couldn’t capture, an obstacle he couldn’t solve. Yet as they sat there in silence, and as he enveloped Solomon in what remained of his wings, he couldn’t help but wonder.

Was there a prayer in Heaven left for him?

[cetecean]

Sunday Fic Rec

Starting up a new thing of posting recommendations for fics every Sunday. I'll be posting reviews about this fic every Wednesday, so if you wish to read the fic first, make sure to avoid the tag #fanfic spoilers

The first is...

We're Blooming Together by RueSinger

Rating: Mature

Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Category: M/M

Fandom: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!

Relationships: Asmodeus/Solomon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Asmodeus & Solomon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Diavolo/Lucifer (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)

Characters: Asmodeus (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Solomon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Lucifer (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Mammon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Leviathan (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Satan (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Belphegor (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Beelzebub (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Luke (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Simeon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Barbatos (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Diavolo (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)

Additional Tags: Slow Burn, Fluff, Alternate Universe - Human, Human AU, au!human, Angst, Fluff and Angst, Slice of Life, College, Pining, Longing, Family Dynamics, Crushes, Secret Crush, Romantic Tension, Friends to Lovers, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drinking, Humor, Fluff and Humor, Romantic Fluff, Nausea, Angst with a Happy Ending, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, the nausea warning is only for the ending of chapter 8, Asmodeus-centric (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)

Language: English

This work is on AO3 and Tumblr (under @ruewrites), and is a completed series, featuring 12 chapters. It takes a spin on the Obey Me! Usual by being a human au. It's certainly a good read if you like fluff, Solasmo, Obey Me!, or all three.

[zenlesszen]

Original Works

So!! I finally got back to writing fics. I’m not really into a fandom deep enough right now so I’ve been writing my own original short works and one-shots featuring my OC Chi and @saturnswarrior​‘s OC Drake. I have two up so far. 1) California- a cute songfic <3 (California by LaPeer is a really good song, take a listen) https://archiveofourown.org/works/22761952 2) A Bond Forged In Blood - angst, Major Character Death  https://archiveofourown.org/works/22886299

(Art by @saturnswarrior​)

[rainiishowers]

Simebarb Headcanons

I am having brainrot over this ship and I thought I would share just a few headcanons because we all need a little of the classy dad couple in our lives 1. They ballroom dance when they are alone.. Well Diavolo found them dancing a few times, and when MC comes to drop off Luke for baking lessons, they sometimes watch with Diavolo or just with Luke. 2. Being the extremely classy couple they are, usually have relaxing dates by the fire or just time alone. 3. Sometimes the family (Luke, Barbs and Simeon) would bake together, Luke never mind of course, he is always happy to share tips with Simeon that he may or may not know already. 4. They both have tea flavors that make them think of each other, 5. Barbatos, being the extremely observant person he is, knows when Simeon is down in the dumps, so he will try to cheer him up. It probably starts off just asking what he could do but he learned what exactly to do after a while

[fearthefuzzybear]

imagine a romantic comedy show centered around a guy who invented a robot to solve all his problems. there would be a repeating gag where the robot would say, "what can i do for you?" and the guy would say, "what CAN'T you do for me? you were created to solve all my problems!" and then he would mumble, "except my love life" or something like that.

NOW. yes there would be a running gag that the guy is single because hes bad with dates. but slowly he starts to develop feelings for the robot. and the robot loves him too, but has been keeping quiet about it because it thinks that the guy wants a relationship outside of the two of them. and then they live happily ever after

and of course in the finale episode the robot would go, "i was created to solve all pf your problems," and the guy would go, "you did,"

[leviathanswingman]

Oleander - Oneshot

pairing: gen, mentioned dialuci

characters: oleander (OC), diavolo, lucifer, barbatos, luke

word count: 3784

this is part of my next gen AU with @ruewrites !!!

Diavolo was walking through the streets of his city, feeling quite at peace as the warm evening air caressed his cheeks and tousled his hair. The quiet mumbling of his subjects going through their day-to-day lives made for excellent background noise as he strolled leisurely. It was an agreeable evening, not as scalding hot as it had been the days before. The Devildom sun was finally dimming, dipping the city in a dark orange light and filling the air with the promise of a mild night. With his presence concealed and the most overwhelming parts of his demonic aura dimmed down, he could enjoy his walk without any incidents.

Diavolo was walking through a vacant side alley, perhaps not with intent, but certainly not without reason. For once he was all by himself, his trusted butler Barbatos left behind at the castle. Evil voices might whisper he’d snuck out of the castle while Barbatos had been busy preparing the kitchen for a cookoff with Luke. Just as Barbatos was bent down, searching the cupboards for a bag of flour, Diavolo had leapt out of the window. It was a skill he had honed to perfection over the years. Barbatos hadn't even heard him when he fled. He would deal with the repercussions later on.

He strolled down the alley, carefree and calm. There was a bounce to his step and he let his arms swing freely from side to side as his eyes wandered with the curiosity of a child. 

Diavolo crossed over to the main street again. Something was about to happen, he was certain of it. His intuition was rarely wrong and today, his gut feeling seemed to be pointing him in a specific direction. 

Of course, walking on the main street made things a tad bit more difficult for him. After all, Diavolo was very recognizable, being the Devildom’s newly crowned king who recently hosted one of the biggest weddings for the denizens of the Devildom to remember. There was only so much a spell could fix. Not every day did Devildom royalty marry a former angel and esteemed Lord of Hell. Speaking of Lucifer, Diavolo was certain he’d ream him out for aimlessly wandering the streets by himself, without protection or company. But there were certain sacrifices he had to make. Lucifer and Barbatos’s expected anger was one of them.

Diavolo smiled to himself, lost in thoughts of his husband when all of a sudden, he bumped into someone. Or rather, someone bumped into him. 

Diavolo was greeted by a shock of auburn hair barely peeking out from under a hood. The person had a lanky frame and a gaunt build. It was quite clear that they weren't an adult just yet. For a second, their eyes met. 

“S’cuse me,” the youth muttered under their breath before pushing past him with an almost imperceptible limp. Perhaps they were good at balancing it out, but Diavolo could make out the little discrepancies in how they distributed their weight with each and every step. Perhaps a past injury that had healed crooked. 

Diavolo patted down his suit pocket. Where once had been his pristine leather wallet was now nothing but emptiness. He smiled. So he’d been correct. He'd just been mugged. How exciting.

Diavolo turned on his heel and walked in the direction the kid had disappeared in.

There was almost no light in the alleyway as Diavolo retraced the kid’s steps, reaching out for their magic and following its traces.

Then, he suddenly felt a presence emanating from behind a dark corner, hidden behind a few stacked boxes. He pretended to ignore it and before he could so much as blink, he felt something sharp being pressed to his side.

“Don’t move,” a voice behind him uttered. “Not even a damn inch.”

Slowly, Diavolo lifted his hands in defeat. He was fairly certain the youth had a knife pointed at his side, so he decided to keep things civil for now. Lucifer and Barbatos most certainly wouldn’t be amused if he returned home with a stab wound.

“A good evening to you too, young demon,” he greeted calmly to diffuse the situation. “What brings you here on this fine-”

The kid lifted their head and stared at him in disbelief. “Have you lost it? Quit the bullshit.” Their hood slid back a bit to reveal a set of bright green eyes as they stared him down. 

This was the moment where Diavolo assumed the ball would drop for them. Surprisingly however, that moment never came. They continued to glare at Diavolo with that same volatile expression they had worn before and only seemed to press the knife harder against his side. It stung a bit but was otherwise bearable. 

“You followed me. Why?” they spat out, the tone of their voice all sharp edges and knives. 

Diavolo kept his hands lifted and simply let out a little breath. “To retrieve my portemonnaie, of course. There’s something in there I’d like to have returned to me. It’s very dear to me.” After all, he had been trying to retrieve his wallet. Of course, the fact that their meeting hadn’t been quite unintentional on his part would have to remain a secret for now.

The kid ogled him for a moment, presumably to assess his threat levels. Their lips were pressed together into a thin line. “You just want your money. That’s all you rich folks want.”

“You are free to check the contents yourself. You’ll see I was telling nothing but the truth. The money does not matter. You can keep it if you want to!”

They remained quiet as they considered their options. Only now could Diavolo see how young they truly were. 14, perhaps 15 years of age at most. There was nothing to them, their form a tale of wiry skin and bones, and from up close it was quite obvious that they were trying not to shake. The little thief was afraid. 

“May I ask your name?” Diavolo asked slowly. In response, they pushed the knife further into Diavolo’s side before retracting it with a snap. They twirled the knife skillfully to force a better grip, then wordlessly pointed it at his chin and opened their mouth to speak.

“No funny business, I am aware, believe me,” Diavolo interjected cheerfully, which only made the youth lift their eyebrows in disbelief. 

“Why is everyone over here so weird,” they mumbled as they rummaged through their bag with their free hand. Finally, they managed to produce Diavolo’s wallet from the depths of the bag. Getting it to open with only one hand was a challenge and Diavolo had to actively hold back from offering his help.”Just take it and lea-”

Finally, it popped open and the contents came spilling out. A handful of candids of Lucifer slowly floated to the ground.  

“What the-”  

Diavolo moved forward, gently pushing the knife pointed at his throat to the side. He knelt down and started picking up the photos that had fallen to the ground.

“These are very precious to me,” he said with a soft smile on his face. “My charming husband. Isn't he a sight for sore eyes?”

The kid jumped back two steps, knife still pointed at the Devildom prince. “Are you crazy?! All that for some photos?”

“Of my husband,” Diavolo threw in. 

The teen squinted at the photographs and began to mumble. “I know that guy…”

Then, their eyes widened and darted over to Diavolo. You could see the cogs turning in their head as they put an arm’s width between themselves and Diavolo.

“You're-” 

“Ah, so you've finally noticed!”

“Royalty?!” 

Diavolo scratched his head, unfazed by the youth's shock. A soft laugh left his lips. “That, I am. May I ask your name?”

Their eyes were darting from one side to the other as they scanned the alleyway, the need to flee evident on their features. “My name? Why would you need to know? I don't have one.”

Diavolo's eyebrows knit together as he watched them. “Everybody has a name,” he said. Silence fell upon them. 

The youth considered their options for a moment. “Lan,” they finally said. “Call me that, for all I care. Doesn’t matter anyway.” 

Diavolo smiled to himself. He couldn't discern a clear lie, yet it was obvious the youth hadn't told him the full truth. “I fear I have to apologize for my rudeness. I should have introduced myself first. My name is Diavolo.” He extended one arm to shake hands, but the youth recoiled.

Their eyes were wide as they stepped back. “You think I’m dumb?! There’s no way you’re-” Their breath caught in their throat. So they had finally noticed. “You're that prince,” they hissed, their stance tense. Before their fight or flight could kick into action, Diavolo took another careful step forward. “There are a few questions I would like to ask you. Would you be willing to join me for a cup of tea at the castle?”

Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say. They bolted without looking back. Diavolo tried to call them back, but before he even had the chance to warn them, they collided with a wall, dropping to the ground upon impact.

Diavolo had tried to warn them of the city’s alleys, of the way they changed course from time to time. But it was too late already. 

The knife clattered to the ground and Diavolo rushed to their side. Their breathing was quite irregular and their skin radiated with a feverish fervour. 

Oleander came back to his senses in a room he did not recognize. There was a mouth-watering scent wafting through the air and hushed voices could be heard from behind the door that was separating him from whoever had taken pity on him. His stomach roared with a familiar violence, and he pressed an unforgiving hand against it to quiet the noise.

His chest was beating viciously and adrenaline started to rush through his veins as he pushed the blanket aside and leapt from the bed someone had put him in.

He couldn't remember the last time he’d slept in a bed this comfortable. Scratch that, he couldn't even remember the last time he’d slept in a bed all by himself to begin with. Back at the orphanage, he had always shared with his siblings, had sat on the ground and guarded the door once there had been too many children and too few beds, had made sure they were tucked in, safe and sound. How inconsequential any of it had been in the end. 

Oleander looked around, the ghostly memories of his siblings clawing at the edges of his vision.

Right. He was alone again and the sound of voices talking urgently behind the door quickly ripped him away from his distressing thoughts. Quietly, he moved closer to the door, pressing his ear against the wooden paneling when he heard people arguing. The voices were loud enough for him to make out snippets of what they were saying. 

“-were you thinking?!”

“My Lord, did we not talk about this? Why were you out by yourself when it has been mere weeks since your wedding!”

A voice, deep and relaxed, answered. It was too quiet to make out what he was answering, but his tone of voice rested somewhere between nonchalant and upbeat. It had to be that man from before. Diavolo, the crown prince. The freshly crowned King. Whatever he said seemed to calm the other two voices down.  

Oleander looked around, trying to calm his nerves. Quickly, he surveyed his surroundings. The door was big and heavy, the voices behind it still shushed. The bed he had been sleeping in was distressingly soft and impossible to hide under. Several portraits were decorating the walls and at the back of the room was a big window, framed with long curtains that were pulled shut to offer some privacy.

Bingo.

Oleander shuffled over, careful not to make any unnecessary sounds. Quietly, he climbed on top of the window sill to take off the curtains, tying them together before securing them near the window. This would have to make due. After all, flying wasn't an option anymore. Oleander had lost that privilege months ago. His shoulder blade throbbed at the thought, remembering the nauseating pain and the panic, the screams of his baby siblings. Quietly, he mourned the loss, shoving it aside for later consideration. Grief would always wait for him.

Thankfully, the window swung open without making too much noise. He peered down. It would be a good drop, but he'd have to risk it.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Oleander already had one leg swung over the window sill when the door opened. His head snapped around towards the sound and he made eye contact with none other than that fallen angel Lucifer standing in the doorway with crossed arms.

“I wouldn't do that if I were you,” he said calmly, his expression guarded.

“And why not?” Oleander replied from between clenched teeth. His eyes darted from the opened door to the window. There was a high chance he wouldn't make the drop from this height, not with one wing and his injured leg, and he was painfully aware of that. He couldn't risk breaking or straining his healthy leg.

Another head peeked past the door. It was the King. “Oh!” he exclaimed upon seeing Oleander’s thwarted attempt at escape. “You're awake!” He clapped his hands together and seemed disturbingly unbothered. “Barbatos made us breakfast! Could I interest you in some?”

Lucifer threw his husband a sideways glance before taking another step into the room. Oleander buried his hands in the curtains and leaned further back, staring at them in disbelief, eyes wild like a caged animal’s as the hot morning air tousled the hair on the back of his neck. Barbatos. That name rang a bell as well. He could feel his chances of escape dwindling by the second.

Lucifer lifted his hands. “Get off the window sill, kid.”

“What do you want from me?! Why did you bring me here instead of the slammer?!”

“Now why would we do that?” Diavolo asked calmly.

“I stole from you! I threatened you with a kn-”

Diavolo made a little face and shook his head. Oleander quieted down, face full of questions. 

“You returned my portemonnaie, so no harm done.” 

Lucifer narrowed his eyes and watched them both carefully. Then he sighed and his form relaxed. The former angel ran a hand across his forehead. “We mean you no harm,” he offered, his voice tired. “As long as you choose to behave.” 

“What do you want from me?” Oleander repeated. 

“There is nothing we could want from you. You knocked yourself out and Diavolo brought you here. You should be grateful.”

“Grateful?! I never asked for any of this!” Finally, Oleander got off the window sill, careful to keep his weight on his good leg. “You people have never done any good. Why would you start helping out now?”

“Are you talking about your siblings?” Oleander stared at the crown prince incredulously and swallowed his words. “How do you know about them?” Oleander hated hearing the way his voice shook. “Are they- You didn't send them back, did you? You can’t, they- they won't make it!” Panic made his voice a fickle thing. 

Quickly, Lucifer realized their blunder. “Calm yourself.” He paused for a short moment, then cleared his throat. “I apologize. It was wrong of us to bring them up so carelessly. We assure you they are safe as can be,” he said carefully.

At that moment, Oleander remembered that Lucifer was an older brother too. Perhaps he would show leniency. Perhaps he would understand. 

“I have contacted the orphanage,” Diavolo started. “They will make sure they all find a proper home.” Oleander’s shoulders relaxed considerably but tensed up again at Diavolo’s next words. “Naturally, that offer extends to you as well. We are aware of your story and would like to extend our con-.” Diavolo’s next words were drowned by static. 

Oleander’s heart was beating with an uncalled-for violence. The uncertainty of the situation, the memories of a past he couldn’t allow himself to forget, the sudden possibility of peace; it was all too much to handle. “I’m gonna throw up,” Oleander warned. 

Lucifer furrowed his brows and opened his mouth to speak when Barbatos stuck his head through the door. 

“To your left,” he simply offered. 

Oleander grabbed the empty flower pot and got violently sick. They cleared their throat once the heaving stopped, spitting out bile before wiping their mouth with the back of their hand. “No.”

“No? We are offering you respite and you refuse?” Lucifer's tone was irritated, but he paused when his husband put his hand on his shoulder and shook his head again. 

“My siblings… they need a home. I don't. I won't.”

Diavolo and Lucifer exchanged a look and Lucifer sighed. “Then at least rest here until you've recuperated.”

Oleander didn't know what to say. He didn't believe in promises, hadn't in a long time, but asked regardless, vulnerability be damned. “Can you promise they'll be safe?”

“You have my promise as ruler.”

It felt too good to be true and suddenly, it was as if all the fight had left his body. He realized how tired he was, how exhausted he must’ve been for years now. Despite himself, Oleander chose to accept this frail promise. 

The days passed in a blur. Before he even noticed it, two weeks had already gone by. It was all a mystery to Oleander. Why he stayed, he couldn't tell, but the careful promise of safety was a daunting thing keeping him in place.

Morning, midday, and evening, a meal would find itself in front of his door. Although he wouldn’t admit it out loud, they were the tastiest meals he’d ever had. It was strange to have food all to himself, even stranger when he realized after a few days that he slowly stopped setting half aside for his siblings.

He could tell his body was growing stronger, sturdier, lanky arms slowly starting to swell with careful muscle. He was given new clothes, fine clothes that probably cost a fortune and Oleander had half the mind to think about selling them off.

Diavolo and Lucifer allowed him to ask for whatever he wanted, even when he refused to take them up on the offer. After all, there was only one thing he truly cared about. 

But he didn’t even have to ask about proof of his siblings’ wellbeing. One after another, letters arrived. He recognized his siblings’ handwriting, after all, he had taught them how to write, tucked away in the shadows while the orphanage’s employees weren’t looking. The pictures attached showed his siblings in front of their new homes, with their new families, their smiles reluctant but hopeful. There was a faint ache clawing at his chest. 

During Oleander’s second week, Lucifer entered the room and unceremoniously dropped a strange device into his lap. One of Asmodeus’s old DDDs, he'd called it. After teaching Oleander how to use it, he thumbed through various messages and clicked on a video. It showed his youngest siblings, the ones who couldn't write just yet, safe as well, their bodies strong and cheeks round like freshly picked apples. 

At least once a day, someone stopped by. Diavolo with well-meaning, but inconsequential chatter. Barbatos with food and small talk. Lucifer with tales of his brothers and stunted awkwardness. Oleander did not understand what they were trying to achieve, not when he remained cagey and vigilant, not when he hadn’t even told them his full name yet. Still, the truth managed to slip through in little moments, with the arrival of each and every letter when a smile found its way onto his lips. He did not ask to stay, but they also didn't tell him to leave. It made no sense. 

It was the beginning of week three, a Monday morning nearing dinner time, when Oleander heard another knock on the door. The soft rapping was quiet, unfamiliar. Whoever it was, Oleander certainly hadn’t met them just yet.

“Can I come in?” a light voice asked. 

Oleander walked up to the door, stood before it in anticipation. “Who are you?” he asked back. “And what do you want?”

The reply came without hesitation. “My name is Luke, I-” There was only a door separating them, so Oleander could feel them. Their aura was strangely bright and airy. Oleander had never felt anything like it before.

“You're not a demon. What are you?” he shot back. His hand was shaking, but for once, his voice didn't expose his state of unrest. 

The light voice did not falter. “Oh, you noticed? That was so fast! I am one of the exchange students from the Celestial Realm. I was wondering if-”

“Bullshit!” Oleander ripped the door open. “What would an angel want-”

Before him stood a boy, light-haired like he'd never seen before, his eyes blue like the ocean. He was young, probably close to Oleander’s age, and so slender it seemed like his body hadn't grown into itself just yet. The boy stiffly extended his hand. “It's nice to meet you. My name is Luke. I wanted to welcome you earlier, but everyone told me I had to wait.”

Oleander didn't shake the hand he was being offered. Instead, he crossed his arms. “Why?” he simply asked. “I’m not that interesting.”

Luke blinked in surprise. “I was happy to finally meet someone my age. Plus you never came down for dinner, so I thought…”

“You thought what?”

Luke smiled. “I thought it would be easier if I escorted you. Everyone is super excited to meet you!” 

Oleander had no words to spare, so he simply repeated his question. “Why?” 

Luke furrowed his brows. “Why not? Will you come down? I bet it’s lonely up here.”

Strangely enough, Oleander didn't feel like the young angel would leave him alone.

“And if I say I won't come?” he asked testingly. 

A determined expression ran over Luke’s face. “Then I'll come and ask again and againuntil you agree to be friends.” 

“Friends?”

“Sure!” Luke offered his hand a second time and smiled brightly. “Hello, my name is Luke, it's nice to meet you. What's your name?”

Oleander did not understand what brought Luke here. However, strangely enough, he was curious to find out. They never had a friend before, but there was a part of him, that wanted one desperately. 

Reluctantly, they clasped their hand around Luke’s. “I'm Oleander.”

[obeymebutcursed]

Don't rehect his message, accept him -RueWrites

*panic intensifies*

[radarchives]

im desperate for more Solomon and/or solodeus content

solodeus it is!

(and a big thanks to @ruewrites for being my designated solodeus spokesperson)