Random idea/imagine hit me that involves MC, Solomon, Diavolo and Barbatos. This can be seen as either a romantic or platonic relationship between Solomon and MC, or one sided on Solomon's part for his feelings for MC. It's up to ya.
Warnings: MC is hurt, lost lots of blood and nearly dying.
Random thought came to mind of MC getting hurt, so badly, they lost lots of blood...And Solomon was the one to find them in that state first. And rushed to anyone to help them. That anyone being Barbatos and Diavolo in this scenario.
Barbatos tries to help, by order of Diavolo. But Barbatos only frowns at the sight, and condition MC is in...They lost too much blood, they won't survive.
Solomon, refusing to let MC die on him. Offers up his blood and instantly Barbatos is against it, since this is Solomon's blood after all. Diavolo though on the other hand, is both concerned but more curious. Solomon is human after all, yes immortal, but human still. There's no one else better and closer to help give MC a fighting chance to live than him now.
So they go through with it...By order of Diavolo...At first, everything seems to be looking fine. Then suddenly, they notice MC's hair color change from their normal color(let's say your hair color isn't silver/white in this story if it is by default okay), to a pure silver/white. Right away Barbatos was going to stop with the blood transfusion, fearing it was doing more harm than good. But Solomon said to just wait. Along with Diavolo telling Barbatos to just trust this.
Suddenly MC is breathing more stable again and some color is brought back into their face...They look more alive than before now.
Diavolo was in awe over seeing this work, but with some side affects of course...He couldn't stop looking at the new hair color MC had now...
Barbatos on the other hand, he was mixed on feelings over this all...
It won't be until later on when MC is able to wake up, and is recovering. They will see their new hair color and notices the striking similarity to Solomon's hair...
Solomon will apologize for what he did but felt he had no choice. All that matters is that they are alive now and well...
He'll try to compliment their new hair color, telling them it looks good on them. Might even try to comfort them if they look upset or in shock.
Though how MC will react to it all, is up to you personally...
As well I'm sure there's a question bugging all too...Is MC now immortal from this move, or something else?
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May I request a sub lucifer and diavolo (seperatly)
Have a good day!
hhhhhh men that are cocky and then you ruin it i feel some way
Sub Lucifer/Sub Diavolo x Dom!Gn Reader
tags:
SMUT UNDER THE CUT MINORS DNI!!!
this man. he makes me feel things.
Lucifer:
this man. he makes me feel things.
one of his titles is literally "Mr. Loyal-and-Obedient"
i want to fuck him up so hard hhhhh
doggy style !!!!!!! face down ass up just to really get him embarrassed
he's not super duper loud, but gag him anyway because it's fun to see his face when he's helpless
wants to give up all control and just be tied up unable to move
he blushes everywhere!! his whole face, neck, and chest get redder the more you mess with him <3
not tying his hands but telling him to keep them up is so hot oh my god
just play with him and tell him to keep still hngh
also looks so good in lingerie hello???? get him an elegant little black set right this moment. like right now.
also likes getting marked, even though he'll deny it
making lipstick marks all over his neck and chest before he leaves to go do important things <3333333
he gets a little bratty if you take too long to tease him, but he'll cry if you stop touching him and will eventually beg
Diavolo:
the epitome of high and mighty
kick this man off his high horse right now. do it.
pretty boy wants you to mark him everywhere and will not be ashamed if someone sees
will 10000% leave scratches on your back with his nails <3
that's his little way of knowing you're his and he's yours
i feel like he'd be into body writing or marking in non-conventional ways too
he HATES not being able to touch you and is very clingy when you're alone
if you asked him to get you off he will drop on his knees so fast no questions asked
punish him by fucking/riding his thighs and not letting him touch
he begs so prettily when you punish him <333
a really pretty crier as well
i would not put it past him to get a dildo that matches your cock/strap to sit on while he works
fuck him over his throne when the room is empty and he will get so loud so fast
get him a little collar and he'll show it off to everyone
loves loves LOVES body worship, he will literally kiss every part of your body and tell you how much he loves you
he gets so shy if you ever return any of his affections
a/n: can you tell i like destroying big men yet
send in requests!!!
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your touch (a craving)
part 3: chest (first | prev)
“Are you listening, Lord Diavolo?” Lucifer asked, definitely not amused, but he tried to keep his tone even when talking to the prince of the Devildom. If anybody else had heard him, they would think it was a genuine question, but Diavolo knew Lucifer’s patience was wearing thin.
Diavolo was standing at a window in his office, watching a single raindrop on the pane. He watched as every other droplet raced around it, miraculously avoiding ever touching the one he was focused on. Many would get close, but they always just managed to avoid a collision.
“I'm listening, my friend,” Diavolo said. He didn't turn to him.
Lucifer was in his office to discuss the plans for the “winter formal” that he wanted to throw to celebrate another successful semester at RAD with the exchange program. Naturally, it was an idea you had given him. It was a staple of school life in the human world, or so you had told him. Maybe you hadn't experienced such things yourself, but you were very familiar with the concept from movies and TV shows. And dances weren't a foreign concept to the Devildom so, if it made you happy, Diavolo was happy to oblige.
He smiled to himself as one tiny droplet finally combined with the largest one, sending them both sliding down the pane and pooling at the bottom of the sill with the rest of the raindrops outside. He turned to look at his friend over his shoulder. Even though a party like this has been thrown hundreds of times, it was quite like the Avatar of Pride to ensure every detail was perfect. “I trust that you'll make the right decisions. All you need to do is give me the paperwork I need to sign and it will happen.”
Lucifer was usually unreadable underneath the unflappable mask that he schooled his features into in public, but he let his guard down just a touch in front of Diavolo. The prince’s absolute certitude in Lucifer’s abilities made the demon preen. “With pleasure, my lord.”
It was only when he felt his DDD go off that Lucifer's expression twitched ever so slightly out of place. Checking the screen, a flash of annoyance graced his features before they were schooled back in place. “I must apologize, my lord, but it looks like I am needed elsewhere. If you'll excuse me,” he trailed off, bowing slightly.
“Certainly, Lucifer. Please take care of whatever it is you need to,” Diavolo turned to face him and nodded once. “I'm sure your brothers need you more right now than I do.”
“Yes, well, we shall see about that,” Lucifer turned and left without a second look and something inside Diavolo’s chest ached. He turned to look back out the window, heavier raindrops coming down harder now.
He wondered how you were getting home in this storm.
Did you have an umbrella?
After a moment, he decided there was no point in staying in the office anymore. If he happened across you in the hallway, he could offer to escort you home. And if you happened to forget an umbrella, you would have to share his; You would have to be so close to him, brushing up against him - to avoid the rain, of course. Oh, just the thought of this deviously orchestrated closeness was enough to bring a little color to his cheeks.
The demon prince's head was up in the clouds meandering through the halls of his academy. He didn’t need to pay attention to his surroundings because any student still milling about wouldn’t dare to get in his way.
You, however, weren’t any student. You weren't as mindful as you made your way through the halls. You were looking down at your phone, enraptured by the nonsense going on in the “House of Lamentation (New)” group chat. You were coming up the stairs at the same time Diavolo emerged from around the corner and you collided right into each other, your head bumping directly into his chest. It was a moment of brief contact, more disorienting than dizzying, and you stepped away from each other just as quickly (but Diavolo was thankful for it still).
“Oh, MC. I beg your pardon-” Diavolo started.
“Diavolo! I mean- Lord Diavolo,” you said at the same time, “I'm so sorry. I should've been looking where I was going.”
“Please, I could say the same thing.” He straightened his posture and beamed at you, “I'm actually glad I ran into you." He chuckled at his own pun. "Are you heading back to the House of Lamentation?”
“Oh, actually, I promised Beel I would pick up the homework Belphie missed from skip- I mean, he was sick!” You stopped yourself when you realized who you were talking to. “He would get it himself but I offered since he has Fangol practice today. Why?”
The familiarity with which you referred to the Avatars of Gluttony and Sloth dropped something very cold in the pit of his stomach. He had noticed you were heading up, further into the building, and not outside. Could he still ask to come with you? No, his initial plan for manufactured intimacy was tainted by that genuine closeness you had with the brothers.
Diavolo cleared his throat, smile not quite reaching his eyes. “That's very thoughtful of you, MC. Those brothers are lucky they have someone like you who cares about them so much.”
You looked into his face, searching for something; what, he didn't know. And he wouldn't know if you found it because, at that very moment, you both heard what sounded like frantic footsteps coming down the hall. As you turned to look, all you could see was a white and brown blur barreling down the hall as fast as demonically possible.
“Was that-” Diavolo started.
“Mammon?” you finished.
Following not too far behind him, what started as a trickle of water soon became a huge wave tumbling around the corner. The scent of brine and sulfur overwhelmed the hallway, and with it came the Admiral of Hell's Navy, in full demonic form, barreling through atop his most loyal soldier, Lotan.
“Oh, no,” was all you got to say before the force of the tidal wave coming down the hall pushed Diavolo into the wall and you into Diavolo, soaking the both of you from head to toe.
What was perhaps more pressing in Diavolo’s mind was the way you were pressing into his body. He was hyper-aware of everywhere your body was touching him. He wanted to pull you even closer, sink his claws into your tender flesh so that you would never not be a part of him again. It took every ounce of strength he had in his body to not do exactly that, and it was precisely because he was the most powerful being (currently awake) in the Devildom that he didn’t. His hands were shaking, hovering above your hips by only a hair’s breadth.
Your eyes were still closed from the shock of the wave. He could feel his entire body temperature rise as his gaze wandered from the sparkling constellations forming on your eyelashes to the droplets of water dripping from your parted lips.
When Lotan finally passed (which took a while as he's a very long sea serpent), your hands lingered on his body a little longer than they probably should've before you wiped the water out of your eyes. Your expression morphed from pure shock to slight amusement.
“Well,” you scoffed, stepping back only a little, “at least I don't have to worry about the rain soaking me anymore.”
Diavolo didn't trust himself to speak. He feared he could only say something like, please, come back, I want you to stay so near me, always. He took in the state of the rest of your body, the way the wet clothes clung to your body. He looked back at your face and got distracted by a drop of water that slid down your neck. If he wasn't blushing before, he certainly was now.
“Diavolo?” You cocked your head to the side, exposing more of your neck.
Before he could take a step towards you, another presence entered the hallway the same way Mammon and Leviathan came. The utterly repressive aura emanating off of their eldest brother was smothering, even to Diavolo; He wasn't running after them, just walking slowly and with purpose.
When Lucifer reached you and Diavolo, he stopped, took a deep breath, and said, “Lord Diavolo, believe me when I say those two are in for a punishment the likes of which neither have ever seen. You have their deepest apologies.” His tone was frighteningly even for a demon as angry as he surely was.
Diavolo cleared his throat and crossed his arms, frustration only a little feigned, “And what event could have caused such an uproar?”
“It appears that Mammon sold one of Leviathan's limited edition signed figurines… again.”
“Again? Like the same one?” you asked.
“That seems to be the case. Leviathan just bought it back for a ridiculous sum and Mammon sold it off again not even 24 hours later,” Lucifer sighed. “MC, if you don't mind, I believe I'll be needing your help to… discipline them.”
He turned to you, placing a hand on your shoulder, indicating you had no choice in the matter.
“Sure thing, Lucifer.”
“Please excuse us, my lord.”
Diavolo couldn't tear his eyes from Lucifer's hand.
“You are excused.”
Lucifer nodded once before turning you both away from Diavolo.
You looked back over your shoulder to him as you walked away. His eyes caught yours one last time, drinking in the emotion he found in them like he'd been in the desert for years without water.
He watched you walk all the way down the hallway and stood listening to your footsteps splashing down the waterlogged stairs. It wasn't until all he could hear was the water dripping off his coat into the puddles on the floor beneath him that he finally took a shuddering breath and leaned his head against the wall, hand pressed against his chest.
He was approaching the point of no return and he had to decide, quickly, if he was willing to cross that line when he got to it.
(next)
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