#this is literally me as mc

[sebflix]

me when i use the pensieve for the first time

[zephyrchama]

Diavolo using the royal family's official letterhead and seal to send MC random pen pal-style letters for fun.

A postal demon who is anxious beyond belief grips the letter as tight as they dare to, neither wanting a breeze to blow it away nor for the paper inside to get crumpled. It was the talk of all local postal workers that morning. It's obviously incredibly important, the prince's own penmanship graces the front of it! Such a letter should not be left in the mailbox.

They knock on the door to the House of Lamentation, shaking. MC opens it.

The postal demon quickly bows their head. "An urgent correspondence!" they proclaim while handing over the message with two scrawny arms. As soon as MC has their mail, the postal demon flees and MC returns inside to find a letter opener.

Hey!

I discovered a book the other day with many fascinating human jokes! Have you heard this one?

Q: Why don't skeletons fight each other?

A: They don't have the guts!

Isn't that hilarious? Everyone knows that common undead skeletons don't have cognizance and will absolutely fight each other. Or anything that moves, really. This must be an example of that 'sarcasm' you told me about. Human jokes can be so funny!

Yours truly,

Diavolo

[risingsunresistance]

pigy,,,

[books-and-catears]

I am once again filled with sadness and I might implode in this cold office cubicle if I don't let it out immediately.

Solomon x MC and this quote. That's it.

Solomon who will go to unnecessary and ridiculous lengths to have you close to him, to show his affection, to have just a minute of your time even though it's probably wasted on him and you have better people to be with.

In a world which has labelled him as a demon, you are the sole reminder of his humanity. A reminder that he's not alone.

You are his favourite apprentice because you remind him of everything that is good about humans and why he spent his whole life protecting them. You make his purpose worth it.

And MC who acts as the best friend he never had, who tends to his inner child so desperately in need of healing, who holds him on his worst nights to show him he's no longer alone.

MC who was the catalyst that showed him that the demons he regarded as contracts could be potential friends too. MC who looks after him and willingly agrees to help him protect the world.

[littlestardescendants]

Obey Me! MC: Ugh get your balls out of your purses and do something stop bitching to me about your problems.

What in Hell is Bad! MC: FOR THE LOVE OF GOD PUT YOUR BALLS AWAY WE'RE IN PUBLIC

[choccy-milky]

scene from my newest chap of seb discovering that daisies are also his favourite flower (and why)😊

[lyrichi]

[mc is reading a devildom textbook that is on human world history]

mc: .......

satan: ... you look troubled

mc: yeah cause it's all wrong

satan: what do you mean?

mc: well, first of all it says the earth is flat

[chiefcheesecakemaker]

Mcs at mammon's funeral: can I have a moment alone with him?

Asmo: of course *leaves*

Mc leaning over mammon's coffin: I know you're not dead dipshit

Mammon: yeah no shit

[notcreative360]

Mammon: *Running around the house like a madman*

Lucifer: *Catches Mammon* What did you do this time?

Mammon: MC is sick!!

Lucifer: They wh-

Levi: I GOT THE MEDICINE!

Beel: I have the soup!!

Mammon: TAKE IT ALL TO MC, NOOOOWW!!

[sxswriter]

🔞🔞🔞 ✨

Sylus has a big thing with maintaining eye contact. Relishing the moments he can gaze into your eyes, whether he’s savoring your slick hole or relentlessly thrusting into you—he just has to look at your eyes. The way you look at him, as if he’s your everything, with your eyes glazed over with desire—he could never get enough.

[hopeluna]

Thinking about.....Barbatos being lowkey unhinged whenever he is slightly jealous. You can't really tell from his polite mask that he has put on but he's going through every possible torture methods in his head as this guest at Diavolo's ball is getting a little too friendly for his comfort.

You notice his eye twitching from annoyance when the said guest puts a fleeting hand on your arm, laughing at their own joke. Barbatos acts nonchalant when you drag him away to a little secluded space, though you can see his decorum slipping, second by second.

"Barbatos, no."

You get just a shrug in response. "Lets go back, dear", a polite smile as he leads you gently back to the main hall. You decide to leave it at that and instead enjoy the party, making sure that Mammon isn't sneaking his way into the royal treasury.

A few days later, you decide to make your way to Barbatos, having nothing better to do for the day and missing him.

While you're with him, chatting on about your day, a thought strikes you as you ask him about that one way-too-friendly guest. It was as if they disappeared from the ball afterwards.

You, again, get only a shrug in response, "I have no idea what you are talking about".

You pretend not to notice the way his lips threaten to quirk up.

© hopeluna. Do not copy, translate, modify or repost any of my work in this or any other site. Do not steal or modify my ideas/concepts either.

[zephyrchama]

You're wrapped up in a cocoon of blankets, warm and safe in your plush bed at the House of Lamentation. Your eyelids are heavy and you're tuckered out from another long day of devilsitting. The comfort and quiet feels amazing, and you're dozing off to sleep as the clock strikes midnight.

A grandfather clock in one of the manor's many distant hallways chimes to mark the occasion. Twelve reverberating rings.

And then a squeak.

You brush it off as part of a dream, or maybe you're so tired you're imagining things. Maybe someone passing by stepped on a sqeauky floorboard.

Two more muffled squeaks. Your eyelids flutter. It couldn't be a mouse, not after the thrashing Barbatos gave everyone last time the house got infested. You hear it a forth time, but decide the problem can wait until morning, if it's still around by then.

Another squeak, and an undeniable scream. Is that Asmodeus? This time your eyes are wide open and you jolt up. The squeaks are getting louder, and more frequent. You hear a scuffle happening downstairs, like things are being thrown about. Is the house under attack?

Nobody's come to get you. If there was any danger, one of the brothers would be at your doorstep in a heartbeat. The fact that they aren't fills you with a heavy anxiety.

The ground shudders and you hear Leviathan's scream. You're out of bed, grabbing the first solid thing you see for self-defense. Plates are crashing, you can't tell when one squeak stops and another begins. Is it safe to leave the room? What in the world is happening?

Your D.D.D. is quietly charging and shows no new notifications. Hesitantly, you open the bedroom door and step out into the hall.

The air smells like smoke and curses. The squeaking and shouting is so much louder. You hear Satan and Lucifer roaring as if engulfed in a fierce battle. They might need your help!

You run down the stairs. Mammon is strewn out on the bottom step, and you almost kick him in your haste.

"Mammon! What's happening?" You shakily try to hoist him up.

"They got me..." he rattles. "Can't... there's too many..." He's breathing so hard, he can hardly speak. Only stare towards the horror that awaits.

You pass Beelzebub and Belphegor hiding behind an upturned table. They're holding something, but you can't make it out in the dark. "Don't do it," they hiss, but the squeaking is too loud to hear them. They look like they've sustained heavy injuries too.

You sully forth. Leviathan is unconscious, having been thrown into a shelf. You rush to inspect him. He's covered in... paw marks? His hand is tightly gripped around a charred stick-like object.

You hardly even recognized poor Asmodeus laying feet away, covered in glass shards. He is not going to be happy about the state of his face when he wakes up.

A small explosion makes you jump, and you run into the living room. You thought you were prepared for anything. Your adrenaline is pumping, magic ready at your fingertips.

Lucifer and Satan are in the midst of a legendary battle. They're holding paws on sticks and fiercely booping each other, causing the sticks to squeak loudly with every impact. Satan laughs maniacally, charging towards Lucifer head-on as Lucifer parries magnificently.

What? What is going on?

"What's happening?"

The squeaking is so loud you can't even think straight. There are small fires everywhere. You side-step just in time to avoid a brick falling from the ceiling. Lucifer is so fast that your eyes can't keep up. You only see the afterimage of Satan's tail as he bounces off the walls with unrestrained murderous intent, sending more debris your way.

"Stop! Right! Now!" You yell with every fiber of your being.

The twins probably keeled over from the intensity of your pact command, too, but desperate times call for desperate measures. Lucifer and Satan tumble to the ground, stunned.

"When did you get there?" Satan's voice is shaky, almost overly excited.

"How long have you been there?" Lucifer asks. He sounds more surprised and concerned. Satan seizes this chance to boop him in the ear and Lucifer glares at him murderously.

"What's happening?" You repeat. The living room and surrounding areas are in shambles. The two people who usually have it together are embroiled in a crazy battle in the middle of the night, wielding squeaky paw sticks.

Lucifer and Satan boop each other simultaneously. "He started it."

[three-realms-archive]

Beware Sorcerer MC, the Kind.

Know it is a rare occasion, if you happen to see the Master of the Seven Avatars of Sin out without an escort. Whilst rare, it will be obvious – like a single dandelion seed twirling and carefree in the middle of a raging thunderstorm.

Like a thunderstorm, they are terrifying. Their bright, brilliant smiles – shining like the sun as they nonchalantly sidestep yet another carnivorous plant lashing out at them from the sidewalk; or as they wave hello to the gargoyle who spits on the heads of passers-by from where it is perched atop the local bakery; or as they gently chastise one of the Seven Rulers of the Underworld, as if scolding a child. It is a sight to behold indeed - when irritated demons on the street stop their bickering and straighten their ties as MC turns the corner, the bitterness in their hearts killed by an unwillingness to disappoint the realm’s most prized person.

‘Apprentice to Solomon the Wise. Master of the Seven Avatars of Sin.’

‘Sorcerer MC, the Kind,’ the Devildom calls them. Some say the title was a joke in passing from MC’s teacher - the wise sorcerer, Solomon - one day in the RAD lunch hall and it just stuck. Others say the title came from a demon they had helped, who saw it fit to spread word of their deeds. And some others say the title came from Crown Prince Diavolo, himself.

“What do you mean, beware MC, the Kind?!” You say, almost spitting out your tea as Diavolo hands you his D.D.D. There’s an article on screen, with ‘Beware Sorcerer MC, the Kind’ as it’s title; praising you as the central force behind Diavolo’s efforts for peace amongst the three realms. Problem is - as you continue to scroll through it - it seems to portray simple kindness as some kind of magic spell… with a particular warning to demon children to not sin in broad daylight lest ‘MC the Kind smite you with the curse of their forgiveness, like they often do in the hallowed walls of RAD’s mess hall.’

“Flattering,” Barbatos comments, refilling your tea cup before you can blink, “do you not think, MC?”

Diavolo nods, happily. “I agree with Barbatos.”

“Smite, guys.” You look up at the happy pair beaming at you – then look back at the article. You repeat this a few times, blinking slowly. “I… I just share my dessert sometimes at RAD - is that smiting? Lord Diavolo, have I been smiting?!”

“Such high praise, MC.” Barbatos grins. “This calls for the good tea cakes.”

“The good tea cakes – thank you, Barbatos! And the good Demonus! Our longest aged!

… You aren’t sure how to respond to how happy they are about this.

(this was fun to write. i wanted to think of mc gaining a reputation like solomon’s, since i like whenever them being a a sorcerer in their own right pops up. solomon’s the wise sorcerer - so mc being the kind sorcerer seemed fitting ahahaha)

(i had fun trying to to give mc the same reputation and respect and power but with the ‘kind’ title, and landed on demons being like ‘mc said i should apologise oh no what is this guilt must be a spell’)

[hobbithabits]

Yall know the scene in those ‘coming of age’ movies, where the family is having dinner, and the dad points out that new boy to his daughter with the subtly of a freight train. And he says something about him being a good kid, that he’s talented, and then ends with something that directly aligns with what the daughter likes?

Yes. That’s concept, but it’s dinner with Spock and his parents. And Sarek is under the impression that Spock is with Kirk (not wrong), and is trying to convince him that the doctor is a better option(wrong, because he’s also dating McCoy)

“Doctor McCoy is very talented. He’s recived awards for his work I’ve heard.”

“Yes father, he excelled as a doctor before he had joined starfleet as well.”

“He also saved my life, and your own countless times”

“Yes, as was his duty as Chief Medical Officer of the Enterprise”

…

“I noticed as well, that he has incredibly skilled hands.”

“Father I do not wish to-“

[om-rambles]

He was dangerous when he was hungry, you knew that, didn't you? You saw how he'd ravage anything around him to quell his hunger. What made you think you were any different? Maybe it was the kindness in his eyes every time he looked at you, the smile in his lips every time you kissed, that made you forget that he was a demon. Your beliefs of him, the ideal version of him you have seemed to created, crumbled in on itself now. You didn't know what to think.

You sat there, slouched, in a slowly growing puddle of your own blood. Horror painted on the faces of the brothers surrounding you. What went wrong? You just wanted to help. He was so hungry, and you hated seeing him in pain- of course you'd reach out to help him. But no one could reach him now, he tore flesh off your body without hesitation, his brothers shoving him off before more damage could be done. He moved on so quickly, immediately going after something else to eat, as if hurting you was the most natural thing to him.

You didn't know how to move on from this- you couldn't move on from this. At the very least, you just hoped you wouldn't hate him every time you looked in the mirror.

[lyrichi]

solomon: enough about me. when were you born?

mc: ....guess

solomon: 2011

[mc gags]