#same with lucifer who at least came by so he KNOWS that he still lives in his brain

[nevadancitizen]

-> ATOM BOMB BABY!

synopsis: you're a nomadic survivor in a post-apocalyptic wasteland until you get transported to a strange, new world. these demons were obviously expecting a human that was softer, less spikes-and-thorns and more fluff-and-wool. how will they react and adapt?

word count: 3.3k (~530 each)

characters: lucifer, mammon, leviathan, satan, asmodeus, beelzebub, belphegor, post-apocalyptic! reader

trigger warnings: canon-typical violence, it's implied that the reader has killed before and will kill again lol

notes: new vegas and obey me! have been kicking me in the head repeatedly recently. so there are some allusions/references to new vegas in this one but you don't need to know jack about new vegas to understand this :) also mammon's is longer than everyone else's and he's pining hard for mc because i'm soooo in love with him it's not even funny and IGNORE that there's a lot of holes you could poke in this.. okay? okay <3

It had been a… a miscalculation, really. An embarrassing one. Diavolo had accounted for many things to ensure the success of the Exchange Program, but he failed to account for the most important thing: the fact that, at the end of the day, humans are better at killing than any other living thing. 

Was it wrong for him to assume that things had been the same way they were two hundred years ago? Yes, of course. It was stupid not to check in on the human world, because if he had, he’d find that it was razed by nuclear bombs, the land and water still tainted with the fallout.

So, no, neither he nor the brothers know what to do when you quite literally fall out of the portal. They’re shocked when, instead of being confused and scared and fragile, you’re vile, scarred, spitting threats as if they came naturally. Wait – are you wearing riot armor? And – yeah, that’s a gun. Definitely a gun. A gun you’re currently pointing at them.

-> LUCIFER 

Honestly, this is the last thing Lucifer needed: another fucking headache. He supports Diavolo with all that he is, but he can’t ignore the fact that he’s sometimes so careless that shit like this happens. He’s the one who talks some sense into you and gets you to holster your weapon, as he’s the only one with a level head in the room. (Well, Diavolo would be the other, but he’s… weirdly excited that this human is challenging and has so many thorns you’d think they were born in a briar bush!)

He’ll try his best to accommodate you, even if that means teaching you that yes, you have to shower at least once every two days if you’re to continue living in the House of Lamentation. And no, you cannot hoard food and water in your room. He knows it’s instinct for you at this point, but it causes problems with Beel. 

He basically takes over teaching you how to be a regular, functioning member of polite society, kinda like how he did with Satan. (Really, he thought he’d never see the day where the Devildom was considered part of polite society, but after seeing snippets of the human world through you, he knows that this place is way better than the human world.) He teaches you how to use proper cutlery, how modern plumbing and refrigeration works, and how to solve your problems with words rather than bullets. 

Lucifer is also… oddly patient when it comes to you. As much as he hates to admit it, he sees part of himself in you – the part that had just been cast out of the Celestial Realm, the part that took months to adjust to the world of the Devildom. He knows what it’s like to be subjected to new and confusing ideals – but instead of just a completely different way of life, you’re introduced to the same on top of an legit, organized education system that you’ve never encountered before.

And if that trigger finger of yours ever gets itchy, he’ll take you to go hunting. He’s inexperienced when it comes to hunting with guns instead of claws, but this is the only time he’ll set his pride aside, sit back, and learn. What better hunter to learn from than someone who’s hunted everything, from mutated creatures to fellow man?

If you ever take him to the human world, prepare for him to be silent and observant. He’ll be that way for a while, just looking over the rolling hills and plains that were once green, killed and turned brown by radiation. Then, slowly, softly, unsure if he’s speaking to himself, you, or his Father: “What a splendid world you ruined…”

-> MAMMON

When Mammon comes into the Student Council Room (because he was running late, as per usual) to find you, gun holstered but hackles still raised, his first instinct is to get the fuck out. He’s been in situations like these before, and he knows when to bounce.

But, of course, he’s still assigned as your guardian even though you clearly don’t need one. He thinks that your guns and knives are enough to deter any demon, honest! (Even though that doesn’t deter him from trying to pick your pocket. What really deters him is when you catch his wrist and hit him with the most threatening glare he’s ever seen on a human. Jeez, you honestly look like you’re about to clean his clock…!)

But still, since the Great Mammon was assigned as your guard, he’ll stick around. He doesn’t really mind, because you’re kinda cool anyways – not that he’ll ever say it to your face. But really, with the kinda armor that you’re wearing, plus the grime of the wasteland that doesn’t go away no matter how many times you wash… you’ve got a unique style, and that’s all he has to say, okay? If you really want, he guesses he can hook you up with a modeling gig – but only if you’re with him! Uh – only because he wants to make himself look better in comparison, y’know?

Yeah, even with someone from the wasteland, he’s still absolutely head over heels in puppy love. He’ll show you stuff he got from the Old World (as in, the pre-war human world) because, as much as he denies and deflects, he wants you to have some sense of normalcy. A place that isn’t filled with raiders and ghouls and slavers and someone trying to kill you at every other turn. He’s nice like that.

But he still really wants to know what the New World is like! You can’t get those Old World Blues if he’s just as enthusiastic about New World Hope, right? He asks about your weapons (and takes the spent bullet casings from your guns because they’re shiny), your occupation, your lifestyle – everything, honestly. He wants to know about your family – assuming they’re still alive – and your friends – again, assuming the same. He’s eager to know as much as you’re willing to share, even the more gruesome things you’ve seen or experienced.

He also wants to know about what… ahem, what affection is like. Surely you can’t trust easily when people are willing to kill one another over a sack of rotten vegetables, right? So he’ll be gracious and allow you to playfight and get rough with him, since that’s your weird human way of showing affection! What do you mean that’s not – that’s not how humans show affection now? Humans show affection in the New World the same way they did in the Old World? Well, he just assumed because you hadn’t been showering the Great Mammon in praises and loving touches and – ugh! Just drop it, okay?

Yes, he assumes a lot, mostly based on the apocalypse movies he’s seen. Unless you actually have a sit-down with him and talk about what life is really like in the wasteland, he’ll ride on these weird assumptions. Assumptions like the existence of radiation-riddled zombies, super-mutants and their variants, and other beings that would otherwise be labeled as supranatural if not for the complex and long-winded explanations Mammon comes up with.

If you ever take him to the human world, he’d be delighted to see what remains of Las Vegas – or is it called New Vegas now? Who cares! He’s all-too-excited to bust out whatever human world money he has and get those dice rolling! Sure, he knows that the deck is stacked and the dice are weighted and the games are rigged in every possible way, but it’s about having fun with his human, right? (That’s what he says until he’s forced to fold and cash out. Then it’s “no fun anyway,” and “a waste of time,” and he’s itching to check out the nearby towns and settlements. For something to steal? Hell, probably.)

-> LEVIATHAN

The first thought that crossed Levi’s mind is that you’re obviously cosplaying the main character from It’s a Federal Offense to Mess with the Mail, Man!: Tales of Gunslinging Wastelander Couriers Solving Convoluted Demon Family Drama’s way less popular spinoff, I was Doing Fine Scraping by as a Nomadic Wastelander, but Then I was Transported to Some Strange, New World with Seven Demonic Suitors who are Fighting Over Me as we Speak! Though, if that were the case, where was your convention badge? And that armor doesn’t look fake. It doesn’t really click until he hears the very real sound of you cocking your gun that you’re not playing pretend, nor are you fucking around in any capacity.

He so desperately wants to cement the fact in his mind that you’re a normie, you like doing normie things like cleaning your guns and knives and talking about the politics of the wasteland, which actually reminds him of this game he’s playing and you’d totally love it and –! Oh no. It’s true. You’re cool. Like, really cool. Like, not-a-normie-at-all cool!

Even though you’re not an otaku (and depending on where you’re from and your education, you might’ve never even heard of Japan), Levi will slowly come out of his shell and try to ask you questions about the wasteland. Like Mammon, he has a lot of assumptions based on the games he plays, but they would actually be more accurate. Instead of supranatural things, he thinks about the logistics of the world at large – blame the RPGs he plays. 

But, this leads to him thinking he knows all there is to know about your life and how you live it. Depending on your temper, it may lead you to snap at him, telling him that your life isn’t a video game. This isn’t Grognak & the Ruby Ruins. The wasteland is grueling and cruel and unforgiving. You have seen starvation, debauchery, reignited fascism and misled democracy. You have seen people be crucified for not agreeing with the slavers putting them up on the cross. What you’ve lived through isn’t fun. It’s not a fucking game. You can’t respawn if someone gets a lucky hit. You die. And that’s it.

And of course it causes a blow to his ego, reinforcing the idea that he’s just a “yucky otaku” or some shit like that. You have to reassure him that you have nothing against him personally, it’s just that he was being kinda patronizing and acting as if he’d lived in the wasteland all his life instead of you. After some time alone to sulk, he eventually comes back around and realizes that you’re right, and that you’re really cool, and he wants to be friends with you, so after that brief period he apologizes. 

Good luck trying to drag him to the human world! Levi’s a shut-in, and much prefers experiencing the wasteland through video games than real life. Though if you’re bound and determined, call him up on whatever the equivalent of facetime is on your DDD and talk him through what you’re doing while in the human world, even if you’re just walking along an abandoned highway. He really appreciates your effort and might even work up the confidence to travel the wasteland with you, but sticks to walking the desolate wastes as opposed to going into towns and… ugh, socializing.

-> SATAN

Satan immediately wants to laugh in Lucifer’s face because he fucked up so immensely. Seriously, how could you not know a nuclear war happened? (This is ignoring the fact that he didn’t know, either. He just thought that humans haven’t put out anything worth reading in a little while. He’s a demon, so two hundred years is… not a significant amount of time for him.) 

He’s a hardcore nerd, so he wants to pick your brain about the politics, the logistics – everything about the wasteland. He’s kinda insensitive about it in the beginning, but will eventually turn and not treat the deaths of people close to you like a plot point in a book. He’s unashamed about it, too, and will ask you as soon as the question pops into his mind, lest he forgets it. This leads to weird topics of conversation over dinner, all spurred on by his question of “How many people would you say an average person has killed? Assuming they’re competent enough to kill, of course.”

Your weapons are another point of interest for him. Obviously big gun manufacturers aren’t around anymore, so where do you get your guns? Are there modifications on them? Are the mods homemade, or do you get them from a designated seller? Does the seller need a license, or is it a free-for-all? If it’s a free-for-all, how do you know the quality of the mods they’re selling? And other exhaustive lists of questions that leave you wishing that Mammon would just burst through the door with another stupid money-making scheme on the tip of his tongue. 

He knows how overwhelming school can be, and organized education in the wasteland is sparse to none, so he takes up the title of being your tutor. You’re obviously frustrated with this new thing you don’t have a choice but to partake in, and Satan can sympathize. You’ve never even studied in your life, so he tries his best with trying out different studying techniques to help you form healthy habits that promote a healthy school-life balance. 

If you ever take him to the human world, he’ll be elated. Not because of your trust in him to bring him to the wasteland, but because he can actually do a case study on humans! Not on anything in particular, he’s just curious. He takes soil and water samples to test the levels of residual radiation, talks with locals – both in small settlements and more populated areas – about their life experiences, their political opinions, their religious beliefs… basically everything under the sun, really. He comes back with a new appreciation for humans and a few books that have been published in the New World by doctors and the like. 

-> ASMODEUS 

Ew… what sewer did you crawl out of? Asmo respects people’s kinks and lifestyles and knows that someone’s yuck is someone else’s yum, but he holds the firm belief that it shouldn’t impact other people. And that blood on your boots and the… whatever that’s on your armor is seriously grossing him out. (Though the drop knife strap that’s hugging your thigh is really doing something for him. But that doesn’t make up for the fact you haven’t bathed in a week.)

At first, he distances himself a little because you distance yourself. You don’t want to be judged for something that’s considered normal in the human world. Purified water is a precious commodity, and people don’t want to waste it showering when they could be drinking it. A dip in the river – yes, the ones with the sediment and the radiation and the mutated fish – suffices for most.

Though after a while, he decides that it’s high time he’s bonded with the human that’s living under the same roof as him. Maybe you just need a makeover, then you’ll unleash your full potential as a scarred, gunslinging wastelander hottie? Some demons are into that.

So, with little to no warning, he decided it’s time for a shopping spree. Even though you’re uncomfortable wearing the “high fashion” that’s at Majolish (because it provides literally no protection, armor-wise), he’s able to compromise by getting you some loungewear that you won’t be going out in anyway. While you’re out with him, he drags you to a shop that sells soaps, perfumes, and the like. You’re obviously not used to things that smell good and it’s obviously overstimulating, so Asmo just picks some of his favorites and gets you out before you have a scent-induced breakdown.

Once you’re back at the House of Lamentation, he drops all the shopping bags in your room and drags you to his – it’s time for a makeover, because you’re in dire need of one! He gives you a nice manicure (and adds some nail polish if you’re okay with that) and breaks out the “Doctor Asmo” title to diagnose what kind of skin routine would work for you. If you take issue with the scars you’ve accumulated throughout your life in the wastes, he tries many gels and creams to heal the tissue and reduce the starkness of the scars (even if he thinks that it’s kinda futile because the scars have existed for so long or have been exposed to the sun too much). 

Honestly, Asmo cringes at the thought of going to the human world after having you describe it to him. Even the slightest dosage of radiation that’s above the regular background levels can be really detrimental to your skin, and he doesn’t want to risk radiation poisoning – even at a minor level! Raiders can’t be stopped by his beauty alone, and he doesn’t want to chip his acrylics while handling a gun. Instead, he’ll get the human world in little doses through you. 

-> BEELZEBUB

Not to sound rude, but when you first arrived, you smelled far too rank for Beel to eat. Yeah, he’s eaten inedible things before, but he knows when to suppress his hunger because eating something rancid will hurt more than it’ll help. But don’t worry, after you freshen up and bum some clothes off Mammon (because you didn’t bring any other outfit – obviously), Beel’s appetite is back! Good for you…?

He’s actually really excited to sample some New World food when it’s your turn to cook dinner. Even if you tell him it’s nothing to write home about, he’ll eagerly wait at the kitchen island, not-so-subtly sneaking tastes here and there while you cook. He’s not deterred by the weirder-sounding and even-weirder-looking foods like squirrel stew and coyote steak. If anything, that just makes him more excited!

If Mammon’s not attached to your hip while you’re walking the halls of RAD (and surely yapping your ear off all the while), Beel’s there. He mostly sticks around to see what snacks you can conjure up from things he never thought of eating before, like when you plucked a bug out of the air that was flying around the courtyard and snapped its head off before eating it. He stared at you for a second, just enough for you to start to fluster and get defensive, before doing the same. Protein is protein, after all. 

He also wants to introduce you to fangol! From what you’ve shared, he’s deduced that sports aren’t really a thing in the wasteland – you can’t waste your energy playing when you need it for your continued survival. But you’ve got a lot of energy from being cooped up in the House of Lamentation, so he can help you in a way that benefits both you and Beel: you get rid of your excess energy, and he gets to practice. Practice with someone who’s very inexperienced, yes, but still – it’s practice!

And if you ever itch to get a hint of your old wanderer lifestyle back, he’s all-too-happy to take you on a hike or to go camping with you. Even if it’s purely on a whim with no preparation whatsoever, he’ll grab whatever he can carry from the fridge, stuff it in a backpack, and, after sending a text to Lucifer detailing where you and he are heading, be ready at the front door, all within ten minutes. The food he brought won’t be enough, surely, but he can strip the leaves off a tree like an elephant if needed. 

If you ever take him to the human world, make sure to pack ample food for him because, if pushed, he will strip the nearby towns and settlements of their food supply that was meant to last the next three months. Yes, he’ll pay them for the food, but still – it’s a shock for the wastelanders to see this towering figure push a bunch of money in their hands without even counting it and rattling off what he wants like he’s ordering at a restaurant. 

-> BELPHEGOR

He’s in the attic and a wastelander like you has enough common sense to not trust him. Good ending he stays locked in the attic forever lol goodbye twat

#riptide writes 🌊 #obey me! #obey me! shall we date? #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me asmodeus #obey me beel #obey me beelzebub #obey me brothers #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me mammon x reader #obey me levi x reader #obey me leviathan x reader #obey me satan x reader #obey me asmo x reader #obey me asmodeus x reader #obey me beel x reader #obey me beelzebub x reader #obey me lucifer x mc #obey me mammon x mc #obey me leviathan x mc #obey me satan x mc #obey me asmodeus x mc #obey me beelzebub x mc

[grayintogreen]

im abt to be so predictable but: director's commentary on the vox/lucifer/lilith dynamic during the months where alastor was away?

HEE HEE. Predictable, maybe, but I've wanted to talk about it.

And I shall do it in a bulleted list!

So Lucifer did not end up keeping Vox's soul contract very long, because there was absolutely no way that Vox was gonna be able to FIND Alastor in a place where very few people ever actually go in Pride and well out of range of technology. Vox absolutely tried though and when that failed, he came back to execute PHASE TWO. Take everything Alastor holds dear! My hotel now, loser.

Obviously this posed a problem when he sat there in the metaphorical door with metaphorical shaving cream on his hands for a MONTH waiting for Alastor to come back and meanwhile Charlie is standing beside him like "have you considered that maybe you put way more effort into hating Alastor and being obsessed with him than is healthy." Vox didn't appreciate this.

He does realize that Alastor might not be coming back and that, in that month, Lilith has been trying to soften him up because she's hotter than Charlie and also scarier and she's very, very persuasive, so he decides, eh for a lark, he'll indulge the "therapy."

Therapy kinda works?? But it's mostly working because he off-sets his psychosexual obsession with Alastor with a new psychosexual obsession: becoming the evil vizier to the royal family. (Not his words, my words.)

Lucifer doesn't trust him, but he appreciates Vox's incredible organizational skills and his ability to actually do interviews and press for the hotel without panicking. They work shockingly well together, which pisses them both off, but Vox is delighted because he's cemented himself as Lucifer's right hand and Lucifer is happy because he isn't forced to do public speaking anymore. Both of them also bond about Alastor sucking and how they kinda both secretly miss him. Lucifer does not tell Vox about the time he visits Alastor, because he knows he'll make it weird.

Lilith doesn't trust Vox either, but she has Charlie's unflappable faith in people coupled with the willingness to destroy you if you break what trust she places in you, so Vox's dick is so scared of Lilith in the worst and best possible way. If there was a way for him to watch Lucilith have sex (there's not- Lilith's wards are amazing), he would be doing it. Instead, he just kinda showers Lilith with compliments and kisses her ass to make Lucifer roll his eyes, because he doesn't really get jealous. At least not over people like Vox.

So to recap: Vox has kinda replaced Lilith and Lucifer as surrogate Vees, except Lucifer is more of a stand-in for Alastor than he is for Valentino. He is thriving in this trio and believes it fully to be because he has them wrapped around his finger because he makes himself EVER SO USEFUL TO THEM.

they know what he's doing. they're not stupid.

they both are kinda into him in that "he is so clearly desperate for attention and approval and we are both dealing with a lot and despite his clearly overinflated sense of importance and villainy, he is actually VERY competent at what he does, so like fine we have an evil vizier now whatever."

Vox is actually winning even if he is still not fucking them. Fuck you, Alastor.

Charlie, for her credit, only thinks about this situationship in terms of "yay progress" and refuses to indulge that Vox is either secretly still evil or fucking her parents. The other hotel guests/employees have actual money on whether or not they are fucking.

DIRECTOR'S COMMENTARY ASK GAME.

#AND THEN ALASTOR CAME BACK #and honestly didn't destroy much of anything #like OWDLIF takes place THREE WEEKS after alastor comes back #so his doubling down on Vox makes sense because he's legit making SURE that Vox isn't over him for reals #same with lucifer who at least came by so he KNOWS that he still lives in his brain #red roses and dead things #ask game

[kentopedia]

i miss when we first met

FEATURING. dazai osamu x f!reader & f!reader x chuuya nakahara — wc: 15.1k

SUMMARY: you'd always been in love with Dazai, but you started to doubt that he'd ever cared for you in return. chuuya, though, had never shown you anything but true affection.

CONTENTS: nsfw 18+ ONLY, pm!dazai, pm!reader, mostly dazai x reader but…, unhealthy relationship dynamics, voyeurism, cheating, manipulation, smut, degradation, guns, angst, dazai is very bad at expressing emotions, pet names, horrible communication, unrequited (?) love, the list goes on bc they’re in the port mafia just be warned

note: this took me like 4 months to finish & i am so so nervous to post it lmao. i wanted to write something different & this is very outside my comfort zone! :) but it's dazai's birthday so i figured i might as well share it today

You rolled onto your side away from Dazai, still breathing heavily as you came down from your high.

Beside you, he had shifted onto his forearms, moving up against the headboards to sit up straight. The covers fell off of him, revealing the marks that you’d left all over his body, the scars from a life lived in the mafia.

Under the red silk sheets, you were silent, your head settling into the pillow as you stared at him.

He’d deny it, but he was beautiful, a tempting, alluring creature that you couldn’t get enough of.

But you also knew Lucifer had once been God’s most beautiful angel, and it only made sense that Dazai Osamu would hold the same kind of exquisiteness.

Dazai closed his eyes, rolled his neck as he leaned back, stretching out all of the stiff muscles. He didn’t touch you again, kept a distance as he wiped the sweat that had dried on his forehead, the fluids that had stained the sheets between you.

He used to talk to you, after something so intimate. Used to hold you in his arms and trace your skin with a gentleness you didn’t know he possessed. He hadn’t always been cruel when he fucked you, hadn’t always put his own needs before yours.

Of course, Dazai had never loved you. That was something you were certain of in your very core. But he’d held at least some shred of respect for you before becoming the head of the Port Mafia. Now, you didn’t think he saw you as anything more than a means to an end.

It didn’t matter, though. It didn’t matter that Dazai spoke to you minimally when you two weren’t alone, that everyone in the Port Mafia knew you were nothing more than the woman who slept in his bed.

It didn’t matter because you loved him. You’d stood by his side since the beginning, since he’d recruited Chuuya, since he’d lost Oda.

Since he’d killed Mori.

You’d been with him through all of it, seen every horrid side to him, and you’d never once wanted to escape. Dazai had his claws in you, and he had them in deep. The thought of being anywhere but with him had never crossed your mind.

“Akutagawa told me what happened yesterday.”

You blinked, snapping out of your haze as Dazai regarded you with cool, condescending eyes. He was peering at you from over his shoulder, picking his dark button-up off the floor. The skin on his back was red from scratches, the lines dragging through his taut skin.

“Did he?” you said, looking down at your nails. You hadn’t expected anything less. Akutagawa did everything in his power to get exaltation from Dazai. “I’m sure his report was thorough.”

Dazai’s jaw clenched. His eyes narrowed, a darkened tint flashing in them. “That’s all you have to say?”

His voice was unamused, icy, and it reminded you that no matter how many times you crawled into his bed, let him use you however he wanted, he was still your boss. He was Dazai Osamu, the man whom everyone in Yokohama feared.

You swallowed. “I’m sorry.” Your gaze twisted away from him, unable to meet his hardened expression completely. “I was distracted. It was my fault entirely.”

Dazai made a noise in the back of his throat as he moved out of the bed. He sauntered across the room, so quietly and cat-like, and you buried yourself deeper into the mattress, wanting to sink into it completely.

“You’re lucky, then, that Akutagawa was able to deflect the bullets.” He began replacing the bandages that had slipped off of his face, covering his cheek with disgust.

He let you see him completely when it was just the two of you. It took every ounce of your self-control not to read into that, to wonder if it was just a habit leftover from when you were younger.

“I am lucky.”

Truthfully, you’d only hesitated for half of a second, momentarily lost in your own loop of suffering, and your opponent had gotten an edge on you. They’d shot at you, then the bomb, nearly prematurely blowing up the building.

“After decades of work, I would’ve thought you’d know better by now.” Dazai sighed wearily, like your presence irritated him. It probably did. “I’ll consider moving you. I’m sure there’s a place for you where you can’t get yourself killed if you fuck up.”

“Dazai—” you swallowed, a horrid tasting stinging your mouth as you remembered your time with him had come to an end. He was back to being Mori’s underling, the man who looked at the city like it was nothing but a chessboard. “Boss,” you remedied quickly, all too used to addressing him differently. It was difficult, sometimes, to recognize where Dazai began, and the Port Mafia’s boss ended. “It was a stupid error. In all the time you’ve known me, have I ever done something like that before?”

Dazai hesitated momentarily, before tensing his shoulders. He didn’t answer your question. “Don’t let it happen again.” A warning was in his eyes when they met yours through the mirror. “I don’t have the patience to find a replacement for you, and Akutagawa’s too valuable an asset to lose to a seasoned professional’s careless mistake.”

You exhaled, looking back down at your hands. The ones that had already been stained in so much blood, wrought with crime and bad intent. “Understood.”

You finally climbed out of the bed, missing the warmth that it gave you, even though Dazai’s cold body always sucked it away. He laid so stiffly next to you most of the time. You remembered when he used to sleep with his forehead pressed to the back of your neck.

As you dressed, Dazai kept his eyes on his work, never paying you any attention. You felt discarded, useless, and you wanted to hate him, wanted to hate yourself for longing to wrap your arms around him, hug him from behind.

“I’ll send you with Chuuya tomorrow,” he said, scanning reports and assignments that he’d thrown aside lazily last night. “An easy assignment outside of Yokohama. Think you can manage that?”

“Just give me the job.” You snatched the paper out of Dazai’s hand, and he didn’t say a word, only watched as you perused it. It was, really, the simplest task he’d given you in the past few weeks. You’d felt like he’d been overworking you just to avoid you. “Fine. I’ll take it.”

Dazai’s smile widened, sinister, and wicked. He brushed his hand delicately over your shoulder, against your neck before patting you on the head. “I trust you won’t let me down.”

Going against every sensible atom in your being, you smiled wearily. His minimal display of affection warmed you, a deep pang settling in your soul. “Have I ever?”

“No.” He held a sort of awed fascination, twisting a part of your hair between his fingers. “How lucky someone must be to be my greatest enemy. To get the kiss of death from an angel is not such a bad way to die.”

He held your cheek in his delicate fingers, and you were putty in his hands, wishing that his eyes would soften, even by a fraction. That his hand would cup around his cheek like he meant it.

Instead, he pulled away, and you felt cold, cold, cold, drowning in your own emptiness.

You scoffed, trying to regain some power in the situation. “I’m no angel.”

“Hm,” Dazai hummed, dropping his head in his hands, resuming a spot behind the desk, the deep red chair much too similar to the one in his office, the one that Mori had inherited from the previous boss. “Perhaps not to others.”

And you grew hot, feeling that, maybe, Dazai was giving you a compliment.

It was at times like these that you saw the semblance of your previous relationship. When you could tease him without feeling the weight of his superior rank looming over you. When you could kiss him without tasting venom. When you didn’t have to wonder if it would be appropriate to touch him, or if you should keep your distance.

You wanted to quit him. Really, you did.

He was a horrible, loathsome person.

You’d never be able to stop loving him.

“I could never be any sort of heavenly creature, Dazai. My spot in hell was sealed the moment I sided with the Devil.”

Dazai laughed, the sound raw and dry, so humorless. “I hope you don’t mean me. Flattery will get you nowhere,” he tsked, the tip of his tongue scratching against the back of his white teeth.  

You certainly hadn’t meant that as a compliment.

“Should I say goodbye before I leave?” you asked wryly, doubting that he’d even want to see you again. His image burned against the back of your eyelids, and you drank him in, hoping that when you died, his face would be the last thing you saw.

Dazai didn’t grace you with a simple yes or no. Instead, he glanced up briefly, his one eye exposed, mere centimeters of skin uncovered. “Goodbye.”

You nodded; lips pressed tightly together as you accepted the dismissal. With a sigh, you were out of the room, wondering why you hadn’t just showered before you left. Most of your clothes were in Dazai’s closet anyway.

You didn’t see him again before you left.

The assignment Dazai had given you was a few cities over, a task of infiltrating an enemy organization who’d gotten a little too close to the Mafia’s boundaries. It was simple enough, especially with Chuuya at your side, though the whole ordeal had you away from home for a weekend, and far too much time with your own thoughts.

Dazai had set the two of you up in a suite, one with two separate bedrooms and a shared living space. It was much more luxurious than you even needed, with a view overlooking the entire city and an extensive bar in the kitchen. The furniture was a deep, black leather, every accent dark in color.

It was conspicuous, but you’d grown too used to extravagance after being with Dazai. You allowed yourself to indulge in it.

A silly notion, really; the place you slept every night was much more lavish.

You scrubbed the blood off your face, your hands, and stared at yourself in the mirror without recognizing the person before you. The water at the bottom of the shower was a macabre shade, staining the tiles as it swirled down the drain.

Shivering, you tried to reconcile all of the things you’d done, shelve them away before you could wonder if all of it was really worth it. If Dazai was really worth it.

When you finally emerged from the bathroom, your skin rubbed raw, Chuuya was sitting at the bar, a freshly cracked bottle of wine before him. His back was tense, muscles strained as he regarded you with weary eyes, the darker shade under them obvious and alarming.

“Took you long enough,” Chuuya snorted, pouring himself a glass. The bottle was aged and dark, the label faded. He must have brought it along with him; it certainly hadn’t come from the hotel. “I was getting bored.”

You made a face, taking the seat beside him. “Well, there was a lot of blood.” You reached over to snatch the bottle, pressing it to your lips before he could protest.

“Help yourself, then,” His expression was sour, but his acerbic tone held a hint of amusement. “Do you know how expensive that is?”

“No.” You shrugged, taking a sip. Money had stopped meaning anything to you a long time ago. “Should I care?” The liquid warmed your throat on the way down.

“Probably not. You’ve surely got enough cash behind you to buy me another one.”

“Right.” You snorted and wondered how much of that stuff you’d have to drink before you’d stop feeling a thing. Thoughts of the crumbling bond that you and Dazai shared wouldn’t leave you alone. “And you don’t?”

Chuuya laughed, twirling the glass in his gloved hand. There was a hardened edge to him that you didn’t like. Opposed to Dazai, Chuuya had always been much more open with you, more willing to share his thoughts. “Well, we can’t all be Dazai’s favorite. You’ve got the keys to the kingdom, my dear. Whatever belongs to the Mafia belongs to you too.”

“Favorite?” You spat out the word, darkening at the mention of Dazai, the man who never seemed to leave your brain. It was always Dazai, Dazai, Dazai. The youngest executive there had ever been, the one who’d become the head of the Port Mafia just a few years later.

You hated him. Wished you could burn the memory of that haunted man entirely.

“Hm?” Chuuya leaned forward like he hadn’t heard you.

A bitter flavor blossomed on your tongue when you thought of saying his name out loud. “I don’t want to talk about Dazai right now.”

You brought the bottle to your lips again; it was starting to feel lighter.

“Why?” Chuuya’s eyes dimmed as he stared at you, looking for something hidden in your irises. A secret that wouldn’t be there. You’d always been too easy to read. “Did something happen?”

“I said I don’t want to talk about Dazai, and you immediately think something’s wrong?”

He blinked. Hesitated. “Well, I spent my teenage years listening to you talk about him like a lovesick fool. The subsequent years watching him stare at you in the same way.” He took the bottle away from you, tipping his head back. “Something must be wrong.”

You felt a flush at your neck, the skin itching with sweat. It was cruel of Chuuya to allude to any emotions from Dazai, when you knew they weren’t there. “That’s not true.”

Chuuya sighed. “Isn’t it?”

Although his temper had always been much worse than yours, you felt the same sort of anger claw at your back. The urge to scream at him became almost insuppressible. “Dazai doesn’t care about me like that.” You flopped down on the bar, alcohol fuzzing the edges of your senses. It felt nice, warm.

Maybe being away from the Port Mafia was better for you than you thought.

“Don’t be stupid.” Chuuya’s eyes had narrowed when your head fell forward, his fist clenching around the bottle.

“Stupid?” You immediately sat up, blood rushing straight to your head. Who was Chuuya to come and tell you everything he thought he knew? It was laughable, really. “He doesn’t care, and I think I’d know. Fuck you, Chuuya.”

You slammed your fist down on the table, hurt. You didn’t understand why Chuuya would side with Dazai when he knew how much the situation troubled you. How often had you bared your soul to him, told him how Dazai’s aloofness had hurt you over and over again?

His eyes softened, an apology immediately leaving his lips. “I’m sorry—”

“Are you?” The words were vehement. Chuuya was shamelessly against your relationship with Dazai, always coming up with one reason or another to get you out of it. Now, it seemed, he was trying to defend it. “Dazai cares or he doesn’t. You can’t keep changing your mind based on the situation.”

“Dazai does care.” Chuuya said the words like they pained him to leave his mouth, each one dragging a dagger against his chin. “You think he’d keep you around if he didn’t?”

You did. You knew that you had use outside of Dazai’s feelings, just like Chuuya, just like Akutagawa. Just like every menial grunt who had a shred of value for the Mafia.

“He cares that I have value to him.” A sigh left your lips, and you sunk your chin onto your palm, feeling like nothing more than the dramatic woman in a Shakesperian tragedy. Really, you couldn’t remember when you’d become so pathetic. “What will become of me when I can’t sink a bullet into the skull of his enemies anymore?”

Chuuya frowned, the wrinkles deepening on his forehead. “No one can predict what Dazai will do.” He let you steal his half-full glass of wine, keeping the bottle safely tucked away from you. “Would it make much difference to you if we could?”

“I suppose not.” You’d grown tired, the subtle buzz of alcohol coming in quick on your empty stomach. “Nothing matters much anymore. I’ll never leave the Port Mafia.” Saying the words out loud made it more real than you’d intended, even though it was a fact that had sunk deep into your bones the day you’d met the dark-haired, suicidal bastard. “Why do I have to love him, Chuuya? Why can’t I love a good man?”

You thought, why can’t I love you instead, and left it unsaid. The words might have been too cruel. You knew the pain of unrequited emotions.

“Because you’re in the Port Mafia. Good men would know to stay away.” Chuuya drummed his fingers against the countertop before reaching out, contemplative. Though you remained unmoving in your seat, his hand still retracted before he touched you, as if burned. There was caution in his movements, every action calculated—Chuuya was usually the opposite, as intelligent as he was. “Besides. You’ve never tried to let Dazai go. You don’t want to.”

“I want to,” you said defensively, though even to your own ears, the statement was weak. Dazai was an addiction, and you’d go back to him time and time again. Even when, sometimes, you weren’t so sure there was anything good about him. “I just don’t know how. What would I do out there in the world without Dazai?” You laughed, amused. A normal life didn’t seem possible—you’d have no idea where to start.

Chuuya’s face pinched in disgust. “Take over the Port Mafia. Kill him and run it yourself.” He huffed, running a hand over his eyes, exhausted. “There’s a solution. If you really want to get rid of him.”

You blinked back at him. A moment passed; you’d forgotten he was looking for a response.

“I suspected as much.” His shoulders slumped, defeated, as you drew back in shame. “How long will you talk yourself into this endless cycle of torment? Dazai isn’t the same man that you fell in love with, and he never will be again.” He met your eyes, cold and guarded. “There’s nothing to be done about that. If you want Dazai so badly, put up with every single part of him. I’m tired of listening to the same grievances, time and time again.” 

Chuuya made to stand, but you stopped him, grabbing his wrist lightly. He glared at you from over his shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” you said, trying to convey your apology sincerely. “You’re completely right. I’ve never tried to let Dazai go, and maybe I can.”

You didn’t give Chuuya time to formulate a response. Before he could understand what was happening, you leaned forward, catching him off guard, and planted your lips on his.

For one singular moment, Chuuya had kissed you back, tasting your mouth in its entirety, before he shoved you away, scrubbing his skin like he’d been burned.

“Don’t do that.” He had a hand in your face, scolding you like a child. “Don’t ever fucking do that again.”

You stared at him; his dark eyes were full of an emotion you had never seen before. “Why not? You said I should try to let him go.”

“Not by kissing me, fucking hell.” Chuuya hissed, his voice just above a whisper like someone else was listening in. Something vile had been unleashed in him as he gesticulated around wildly. “You’re Dazai’s.” He scoffed. “Do you think any smart man would do anything with you, knowing you sleep in that monster’s bed every night?”

You sniffed, sticking your jaw out. Maybe, you’d been wrong all this time. Chuuya was like everyone else, wasn’t he? Holding you at a distance because you cared for the wrong person.

“I’m not leaving the Mafia. I’m not leaving Dazai.” You reached across the table, grabbing one of his cold hands. “I just want to be someone else for once. To know what it’s like for someone to care about me so completely.”

“It’s not going to be with me.” Chuuya yanked his hand away, laughing mirthlessly. “I never thought you’d try to manipulate me like this. “You’ve been spending too much time with him.”

Your eyes flashed, infuriated. Chuuya looked at you with some kind of betrayal, like he wasn’t the exact same way, like he wasn’t the same kind of vile person that you were. “I know you’re in love with me, Chuuya. I know you’ve looked at me since we were sixteen years old, wished so badly I would look at you the same way.”

His jaw clenched, the anger giving way to something else. “Don’t start.”

“You’ve wanted me all this time, haven’t you?” It was a genuine question; one you’d always been too scared to voice. Chuuya was the only person you considered to be a friend and knowing that he felt that way about you would ruin your friendship completely.

Though you had one sip too much of alcohol running through your veins, and you’d spent two days wondering how you could stop feeling a single thing for Dazai. Rationality had left you entirely.

Chuuya was silent, still watching you with hesitance.

“You’re the only person in the Mafia who really cares about me, aren’t you?” you said, softer, wondering if you could lure him in. Spring him into a trap you’d both be certain to regret in the morning. “You’re the one who talks to me about everything, who watches out for my well-being. Who’s never looked at me like I was anything but the prettiest girl in the world.”

And though Chuuya still didn’t trust your actions, his eyes had softened just a hair, his body releasing the tension. “You are.”

You smiled, but his compliment made you feel nothing but guilt. “Then why won’t you let me kiss you, Chuuya?”

“Because.” He scraped a hand over his face, breathing heavily like it was taking every ounce of his willpower to resist you “Dazai will kill me, you understand? He’ll kill you.”

“Wouldn’t you at least like to know?” You invaded his personal space. Each word you spoke cracked him a little bit more. “I know you’ve imagined me spread out before you, entirely exposed to you. How I’d look with my hips arching off the bed, crying out your name—”

“Stop it.”

“I’m right, aren’t I?” You felt like you were losing your mind. Something had cracked in you, and you couldn’t come back from it. Things would never go back to the way they were after those careless words had been tossed into the world. “You’ve always wanted me, so why, when I’m giving myself to you completely, won’t you accept?”

Chuuya swallowed. His voice had grown thick with desire. He raked his eyes over you cautiously. “You’re asking a lot from me, baby.” He held your cheek, grazing the bone in the gentle way that Dazai had forgotten. “Believe me, I want to. But you’ve had a lot to drink.”

“I haven’t,” you said, grabbing his wrist before he could pull away. The touch of another person felt so nice against your icy skin. “I’m okay. I’m not drunk.” You weren’t—the alcohol had just made you brave enough to ask. “Please, Chuuya.”

He swallowed thickly. “He’ll kill me.”

“And he’ll kill me. Just as you said.” You met his eyes completely, wondering why you couldn’t care for this man in the same way, why his lips weren’t as alluring as Dazai’s, why his voice didn’t set a blaze deep in your stomach. “Do you really care whether Dazai thinks of me as his?”

His cheeks were flushed, eyebrows pinched, and you spotted the moment he began to draw back. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I just can’t.”

Then, you panicked, eyes becoming glassy as he released you, turning to retreat back to his bedroom, and you scrambled for another way, a way to bring him back to you.

“Chuuya, please,” you said, desperation in every syllable, and when he turned around, you knew you had him wrapped around your finger. “I just want to know what it’s like with a person who loves me. Can’t you give me that?”

That was it. That was all you had to say. When Chuuya bowed his head, you knew he’d given in.

“Why do you think I can give you what he can’t?” Chuuya’s voice was nothing more than a whisper. “I’m not that kind of man. I’m not the kind of man you’re looking for.”

“No,” you said. “You’re not that kind of man. You’re Chuuya. The only person that’s always been there for me.”

He hesitated, momentarily, before sweeping you into his arms, his touch the softest you’d ever felt. “Are you certain that you want this?”

“Yes.”

“Then it doesn’t matter if Dazai kills me.” Chuuya spoke into your mouth, carving the words into your aching heart. “You were always going to be the death of me, anyway.”

His lips were upon you again, kissing you with the hunger of a starved man, and you gave him back as much as you could, which was the despair of a lonely woman. His touch was one of loving hands as guided you back into the bedroom tenderly.

When your back hit the bed, he asked if you were okay, asked if everything was comfortable. The concern in his eyes had rarely been seen in Dazai’s own—you couldn’t remember the last time he’d taken care of you first.

“I’m fine, Chuuya,” you promised again and again, and you smiled, caressing the soft skin of his jaw.

His lips pulled back in return, and then your shirt was thrown over your head, carelessly tossed towards the corner of the room. Though, no matter how many articles of clothing you lost, the necklace that Dazai had given you still rested against your collarbone.

You cupped your palm around it, trying to avert Chuuya’s gaze as he stared down at the precious metal, something conflicting in his cool irises.

“It’s okay,” you said, doing your best to distract him. You wouldn’t take the necklace off. It didn’t matter how much Dazai had hurt you; you needed the reminder of the absolute infidelity you were committing. “Keep going.”

Feeling more anxious than you had before, you kissed Chuuya, trying to dispel the bile that gathered in the back of your throat.

“You’re so beautiful,” Chuuya said, kissing every inch of your face, his hands hovering over your chest. “I could look at you forever, and it wouldn’t be long enough.”

Chuuya’s sentiments warmed you, but words weren’t enough. You pulled his vest off, then the buttoned-shirt and every other intricate article of clothing he wore.

It felt wrong. His height was wrong. His skin felt too warm under your palm.

“When did you fall in love with me?” you asked, breathing heavily. Desire pooled in your abdomen against your will, your own heart betraying you. Still, it was nothing more than the most basic reaction of human nature, raw and primal, unaffected by the organ that was jailed within your ribcage.

Chuuya was surprised by the question, and he paused, his face just inches above your stomach. “I think I realized when I was seventeen.” He huffed out a laugh, inhaling your perfume. “It was the first time I saw Dazai kiss you. I thought I was going to be sick.” He continued kissing down your body, sliding your pants past your hips. “I’d always wanted you. I guess I just didn’t realize until then.”

You exhaled, feeling tears spring to the corners of your eyes, ones you suppressed.

Dazai had given you flowers that day. You remembered how they smelled, the rainy spring breeze. The way the sun reflected in his brown irises, melting them into candied honey that brightened his entire complexion.

“Then take me, Chuuya. If you’ve wanted me for so long, then fuck me like you mean it.”

His dark eyes flashed, but his gentle caresses never turned rough, never sped through a single moment you had together. You smiled, your expression peaceful and open when he finally slid your panties off, your cunt throbbing as his finger brushed against your swollen clit.

Chuuya took his time with you, singing praises that you hadn’t heard in a long time, and you came once around his slender fingers, the ones that were much less skilled at knowing every place you enjoyed being touched.

When he finally sunk inside you, you still felt empty, unfulfilled. You tried to lose yourself in his mouth, in the taste of wine and Chuuya, and dug your fingers into his back.

“Feel so good around me, baby.” Chuuya whispered into your skin, imprinting the words into your neck. He was careful not to leave any marks, though he wanted to, wanted to claim you as his own. “Taking me so well.”

You tugged on his hair as he kissed down your collarbone, between your breasts, his breath hot and heavy. Though you cried out, you kept your voice quiet, still fearful that someone might hear, might know exactly what kind of betrayal you’d committed.

Chuuya thrust into you slowly, so much gentler than Dazai, hitting the spot deep inside of you that had you arching off the bed. “Fuck,” he said, choking on his own breath. “You have no idea how you make me feel.” He was full of desperation, his hands digging into your hips.

“Chuuya,” you said, holding his head between your palms.

He gave you the brightest smile in return, sad and meaningful. “I know. I can feel you squeezing me tighter. Let go for me, doll.”

His hair was just as soft, but it wasn’t dark enough, wasn’t short enough. His kiss didn’t feel the same, and you felt tears blurring your vision as you realized you’d never wanted him, you only wanted Dazai, and this was all wrong.

Still, you came around him, as he was buried deep inside you, but his name never left your lips, not even as a breathy whisper, because the one that was sitting there was Osamu.

And when he pulled out of you, you stroked him with practiced laziness, moving your hands in the way you knew Dazai liked, even though Chuuya felt so much different in your palm.

Chuuya kissed you as warmth flooded into your hand, and then he was breathing heavily, collapsing onto the bed next to you. He kissed you over and over, holding you tight, and you smiled, satisfied, because at the least, you knew this was what love felt like.

You’d never get it from the man you wanted, so you’d take it from Chuuya, even if it made you feel rotten inside.

The room smelled like sex and betrayal, and Chuuya took care of you, carried you out of the bed for a bath, and gently rinsed away the sweat and grime.

You were silent for most of the time, only reassuring him when he asked if you were alright.

For the first time, maybe you were. You imagined a future where you could learn to love Chuuya, a future where you were finally able to rid yourself of Dazai and start over again.

But it was nothing more than a delusion, a dream that would never happen. Dazai was a part of your soul. You knew that and Chuuya knew that, even as he closed his eyes next to you, the woman that would never give her love to anyone else. Your heart beat and bled for Dazai Osamu, every inch of your being meant for him. It would kill you to let him go, and if he died, you’d die right alongside him.

You turned away from Chuuya, burying your face in your hands, completely unaware that he’d left the bed to sleep in the other room.

You didn’t talk to Chuuya the next morning, not when you took a private car back to Yokohama, not when you stepped foot back onto the Mafia headquarters. Things between you had soured, just as you’d suspected, and you didn’t know how to fix it, didn’t think there was any way to go back from what had happened.

Higuchi was waiting for the two of you when you walked in the door, her blazer perfectly pressed, and her shirt tucked. She greeted you with a half-smile—gesturing towards the stairs. “The boss wants to see all of us for a meeting. He said you two would be arriving at this time.”

You nodded, and Chuuya scoffed, shaking his head. “I’ll never understand his superhuman ability to know what’s happening all of the time.”

Swallowing, you followed Higuchi, trying not to hear the foreboding nature of Chuuya’s statement.

Most high-ranking Mafia members were in attendance, with Dazai at the head of the table, the dark wooden chair beside him eerily empty and welcoming. You took a seat, and Dazai’s eyes ran over you, smoothly and hastily, before a small smile appeared on his features. “No injuries?” he said, and though his tone was professional, you could hear the slightest bit of concern.

“None,” you said, and something in your voice cracked, ever so slightly.

You were such a fool. You’d never be able to hide something like this from Dazai.

He eyed you suspiciously, before sliding his glance over to Chuuya, who was as cool as usual. His face was shadowed by his hat, hiding any evidence of a sleepless night.

“Chuuya,” Dazai said, tucking his palm into his hand. “Debrief.”

Your partner gave Dazai every last detail, summarizing as best he could, and sliding in the occasional sarcastic remark as he leaned back casually in the chair. Dazai listened with boredom in his expression, drumming his fingers against the table until Chuuya’s monologue was complete.

He turned to Akutagawa, who bowed his head an immediately launched into his own assignment.

You blinked—you hadn’t realized that Akutagawa’s squad had been sent elsewhere. It made no sense for Dazai to send you with Chuuya when your own division had a separate mission.

The meeting wrapped up quickly, and the members scattered, going their own separate ways for the afternoon. Chuuya refused to meet your eye as he got up from the table, one of the last to leave the room.

As you stood, Dazai closed a hand around your wrist, his thumb brushing your pulse.

“Was the hotel alright?” he asked, his head titled curiously. “You look tired.”

You took a sharp breath.

Fuck.

“It was fine, Osamu,” you said, and when his name slipped easily from your tongue, something in him changed. He loosened the hand on your wrist before releasing it entirely, the bandaged palm falling into his lap. “Thank you.”

Dazai nodded, turning away from you, and you’d forgotten that there were still other people in the room. Akutagawa, who lingered with morbid curiosity, and his sister, who had always sort of pitied you for your tumultuous relationship, bore witness to the brief interaction.

Behind them, Chuuya stood tense, his back straight as he crossed the threshold, sparing you only a glimpse before exiting into the darkened hallway.  

“Alright,” Dazai said in a hushed voice, his face schooled back into the usual, guarded expression. “I’ll see you later.”

It wasn’t much of a response, and he didn’t elaborate, keeping his steely eyes ahead as some low-ranking members trudged in for a meeting with their boss. He’d be busy all afternoon, it seemed.

You swallowed, and left, knowing that it was fruitless to try and keep a secret from him.

Chuuya waited for you outside, his arms crossed as he regarded you with a contempt that hadn’t been there before, such a contrast to the loving man you had seen last night. “This changes everything, you know?”

“I know,” you said, your voice thick with unshed tears. “I’m sorry, Chuuya.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he scoffed. “I was the fool. I made my choice.” Chuuya sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I meant what I said, though. Yesterday. It was all true, and if you need anything, I’ll be here.”

You felt a chasm open in your chest, and you wished the floor would’ve swallowed you whole. You were losing everyone, it seemed, and maybe, Dazai really did have a point with his talk about suicide.

When you stepped into the bedroom, Dazai was sitting on the edge of the bed, the setting sun casting a shadow of his own reflection. He was twirling a pistol around his pointed finger, staring at the wall with blank eyes.

You shut the door quietly, your hands shaking against the golden knob.

Though you hadn’t made a sound when you walked through the door, Dazai’s gaze was on you immediately, sensing your entrance.

You’d never been able to slip past him.

“You’re back early.” Those were the first words that came to your mind, your voice breaking the uncomfortable silence. He was regarding you with disdain, his jaw set coolly. His hair turned bronze in the evening rays, loose strands scraping against the bandages.

“I am.” His jaw clenched, examining you with a singular, dark eye. You felt exposed under his gaze, laid bare for him to see no matter how much you shrouded yourself with. “You sound like you’re unhappy to see me.”

Dazai ran his finger along the trigger like he’d never held such a weapon before, the gun becoming an object of morbid fascination. 

You exhaled. There was so much space between you, a distance you weren’t sure you’d ever cross again. Though you thought you knew Dazai better than anyone, in that moment, he was unreadable—a chapter of pages that had been torn out.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you said, standing tall. Despite your nerves, you were fixated on Dazai, always drawn to him like a moth to a flame, desperate to uncover the very thing that could kill you. “I miss you every time we’re apart. You’re no stranger to my feelings.”

You could offer him that, at the very least. An undeniable truth before everything between you shattered.

Dazai stood, his dark coat billowing out behind him as he finally came to face you, suddenly seeming much taller than you remembered. And with one look, you knew that he knew. He’d always been too smart for his own good.

“I’m not certain of that any longer,” he laughed, though it was a bitter sound that clawed its way up his throat. “Why don’t you tell me the truth, instead.” Dazai stood before you with a smile that was so sweet it was almost sinister. “Aren’t you going to tell me what you did?”

You weren’t sure which one of you would blink first, caught in some deadly staring contest. Most people would’ve surrendered to him by now.

 “Why?” you jutted your chin out, refusing to give in to him in any way. If you were going to die, and you were, you would make sure Dazai knew everything you’d never told him. “You already know.”

“No.” He poked the gun into your cheek, right beneath the sharp bone. He’d clicked the safety off moments before. “I want to hear you say it. You betrayed me.”

When you refused to say a word, Dazai hissed and cocked the gun. He pressed it to your temple, the metal cold against your delicate skin.

“Say it.”

You sniffed. He wasn’t giving in, and instead, stood there silently, unmoving until you finally caved. There was something about the color of his eyes. No matter how much they hardened, you still remembered the young man he used to be. The one who wasn’t quite so cold, who picked you flowers, even with blood dripping down his arm.

“Fine.” You narrowed your eyes. “I fucked Chuuya.”

Dazai blinked. Then, he started laughing. Crazily, maniacally. You saw too much of your old boss in him that it made you sick.

“Shameless.” Dazai took a step back and dropped the gun to his side.

“What?” you sneered, pressing yourself up against him, refusing to be intimidated by the man that had been yours for years. “Should I be ashamed?”

Dazai’s eyes flashed, his jaw clenching. “Yes,” he said, fists curling at his sides. “After everything I’ve done for you.” Dazai grew quieter, flicking a strand of hair out of your face. “Do you feel no remorse?”

“You can’t be serious. What have you done for me, Dazai?” You grew still, grabbing his wrist before he could touch you again. “You’re not upset I was with another man; you’re just upset that it was Chuuya.”

You poked him in the chest, a hot stream of air exhaling through your nose.

“I gave you everything, didn’t I?” The two of you spoke at each other, avoiding the answers, never acknowledging what the other had to say. Around and around you went, an endless circle until one of you finally conceded. “I’ve given you the world, and you still wanted more.” Dazai finally broke free of your loose grasp, stroking your cheek. “What can Chuuya give you that I can’t? I ask for nothing but honesty.”

There was no jealousy in the tone, no sorrow; it was the most genuine question he’d asked you in months. The inquiry of a man who’d lost sight of himself in the past few years, and who’d somehow, over time, forgotten what it meant to care for another.

“You gave me nothing,” you said, but somewhere along the way, your cheeks had grown wet. You’d been struck by the sudden affection in his voice, the softness harsher than a slap to the face.

He was a horrible man, the worst kind of man. Yet, you couldn’t imagine a life without him, a world where you existed alone.

The truth rested at the edge of your tongue. It wouldn’t solve much, your affection for him never had solved much, but at least he would understand.

“This was never about wanting more. I never wanted Chuuya. You’re a fool if you think that.”

Dazai was silent. You pressed on.

“I wanted you. I’ve only ever wanted you. I’ve devoted my entire life to you. I do everything you ask.” You were breathing heavily, big gulping breaths that contained minimal oxygen. “I asked for nothing in return. Nothing but for you to care about me, and you never did.”

“Is that the case?” Dazai laughed humorlessly.

You ignored him, your confession leaving on one heavy breath, a string of words incomprehensible to your ears. “But Chuuya loves me. He always has, and he made certain I knew that.” You paused, averting your eyes. The entire city could be seen from the window over his shoulder. “He told me all of that, and you know what I thought the whole time?”

Dazai scowled.

“I wished that he was you instead. I wanted it to be you so badly, I wanted it to be you saying those things to me, kissing me like I was the most important thing in the world.” You took his wrist again, pressing the gun back to your temple. The cool metal was almost soothing against your skin. “Please, Dazai. Give me this one last thing. I’m begging you to kill me. I can’t take this any longer.”

His finger rested on the trigger.

“I want it to be you. I’ve never wanted to die at anyone’s hands but your own.” His hand felt just as it always had in your palm, his fingers much longer, but his skin so soft. It was almost comforting, how familiar he was, and you longed to be a part of him, to bury yourself deep within him and wear his skin as your own.

Dazai’s expression twitched, and you smiled at him, the taste of salty tears spilling into your mouth.

As you closed your eyes, you prepared for the noise, hoping your blood splattered on Dazai’s coat and stained it, the proof of your existence inerasable. You hoped that Dazai would grow to regret it, would realize that your love for him was close to unconditional.

But the violence never came. The cool metal fell away from your skin, and when you opened your eyes again, Dazai’s shoulders had slumped, the very image of defeat.

“Do you honestly think I can bring myself to kill you?”

“What’s the matter?” you asked, blinking your eyes open. You reached for the gun again, but he drew back, as if stung. “Afraid to lose your best assassin?”

“No.” Dazai’s eyes were hard, his frown set deep into his face. “I’m afraid to lose the woman I love. The most important person in the world to me.”

You stared. Blinked. Then, the worst kind of emotion washed over you.

You swallowed over and over, trying to get the bile out of your throat. You’d wanted to be done, wanted to escape. And yet—

“Don’t say that.” you shook your head, backing away as Dazai inched closer, too close and you felt yourself getting sucked back in, remembering that you’d loved him for years, and you’d never love anyone else. “Fuck you, Dazai. Stop toying with me, and just kill me."

“I love you. I thought you knew that my darling angel.”

You were crying harder, shaking your head. “I don’t believe you. You don’t care about me.”

“No?” Dazai had grabbed your wrist again, but it was so soft. “I thought you were smarter than that. Did you think you were partnered with Akutagawa at random, and not for the sole reason that I knew he’d do everything in his power to protect you? Did you think I moved your seat next to me at meetings because you were nothing more than my stupid whore? Bought you everything you ever wanted because I couldn’t stand you?”

“Yes,” you said, sniffing, feeling yourself melt where he touched you, itching to reach up and pull the bandages off his face, see the beautiful features beneath them that he hid from the world. “You don’t care about me."

“I do care,” he said, fingers grazing your chin. “I’ve killed for you. I took over the Port Mafia so I could give you everything you wanted. Why wasn’t that enough?”

“Because I never wanted that. I never wanted any of this. I wanted you, Dazai Osamu. That was all.”

Dazai frowned, and then he bowed his head, kissed your neck, then around your earlobe, and it was the softest you’d ever felt in your entire life, a gentleness you hadn’t known he was capable of. When his hands snaked around your stomach, pulling you back against him, you were lost in his adoration.

“You never said anything,” he said, kissing your shoulder, breaking the tension in the muscles. You were his, in every lifetime, you’d be his. “I thought you were… happy?”

“How could you think that? I’m not happy, Dazai. I’ve never been less happy.”

“Not even when I tell you that I love you?” he kissed your knuckles.

“Do you love me enough to be a better man? Do you love me enough to let me sleep in your bed and see your whole heart instead of the fragmented pieces that you sliced up just to hide?”

“Yes.” The word was resounding, resolute. “I love you enough to forgive you.”

You held him at a distance, lips falling apart easily. “But I don’t want to forgive you.”

“You will.” Dazai smiled, that irritatingly knowing smile of his that you’d fallen for in the first place. “You will because I mean it this time.”

“You never apologized,” you looked away, trying to find the strength to move. You were enraptured, in every fiber of his being. “You never will. You never do.”

“I never knew anything was wrong,” he frowned, and it wasn’t the truth, but it wasn’t a lie, and you had him so close that you just wanted to forget anything had ever changed. “How was I to fix it if you never told me?”

His words were full of poison, but his voice was so soft you couldn’t help but fall back into him. Perhaps, you should’ve said something. Maybe your actions had never been enough.

“How long have I been at your side, spent hours listening to your every word, even when they didn’t make sense to me? You should’ve known, Dazai. I shouldn’t have to tell you something like that.” Your words were losing their bite, and his lips quirked up, knowing that you were slowly coming back to him, clearing you of the sins you had committed.

He was hesitant, thoughtful, before pressing a kiss to your forehead. And perhaps, that was the final straw in your resistance, his gentle kiss enough to set your soul on fire.

“I’m sorry, my love,” Dazai said, his lips ghosting over yours, handing over the apology like a gift. “Won’t you give me a chance to fix it now?” It felt like a bad idea. Dazai wasn’t deserving of any more chances; you’d already given him years of second chances, had always given him the benefit of the doubt.

“You expect me to believe you’ll let us off scot-free?” you said, your face deadly close to Dazai’s. “What about Chuuya? Will you kill him in my place.”

“You’ve got me in your hand, love. If you want me to punish Chuuya, just say the word. I’ll kill him if that’s what you want.”

It wasn’t. That was the farthest thing from what you wanted, but you worried that if you sounded too enthusiastic, he might just follow through with it.

Instead, you pulled him to you, grabbing the dark tie that he wore around his neck. He grinned into your lips, his saccharine smile seeming much too deadly to be all that sweet. “Do you honestly think I believe a word that you’re saying?”

“You want to,” Dazai said, curling his hand around your jaw, his fingers brushing your ear. “That’s what matters the most.” He kissed your lips, and you could taste the difference, all the love he poured into it this time. It wasn’t like kissing a statue. “It’s all true, anyway.”

You broke away, breathing. “I won’t do this anymore, Dazai.” You finally had his hand in your own, placing the gun back to your temple. “You’re not the man you once were, and you’ll never be him again.” The smile that graced your lips was sad, though it was knowing. Things were always going to end this way.

Dazai’s face wrinkled as he tried to decipher all the words you’d never spoken. “I’m not the same man, that’s true, but my affection for you has never died.” He cupped his other hand around your cheek, hesitantly keeping the gun to your temple, squinting with his head bent.

“You’re the leader of the Port Mafia, and such a ruthless man wouldn’t let a betrayal go unscathed.”

There was a wave of silence while the two of you stared at one another, sifting through the situation with hardness in your jaws, the tension palpable within the air. Dazai straightened, clarity in his irises as a smooth smile burned onto his lips.

“Is that what you want?” he said innocently. “You want to be punished for your insurrections?”

Your mouth grew dry, but you held your ground firmly, swallowing back all the uncertainty. Perhaps you didn’t want to die. Perhaps you did. You just hated the gaping hole inside of you that never seemed to leave. “I want you to kill me.”

“Kill you?” Dazai laughed, then the hilt of the gun was against your temple once more. He held your chin steady between his forefinger and thumb, regarding you with thinly veiled disgust. “You’ve never wanted that before. Not when I asked you to die alongside me, to follow me far into the afterlife.” He sighed, releasing your chin before cocking the gun. “This isn’t about death at all.”

“What—”

“You want me to claim you, is that it?” He clicked his tongue before leaning forward, sneering. “Perhaps it’s that other way around. You want everyone in the Mafia to know I belong to you, hm?’

You blinked, though you began to feel weak in the knees, the eyes that you knew so well suddenly intimidating. “I never said—” but even then, your voice wavered, unsteady and uncertain of the immediate heat that had swirled under your skin.

Dazai’s mouth curled, a gruesome smile there. “I know you better than anyone. I’ve always known exactly what you want. Even though I shouldn’t forgive you, I can’t help myself.”

You swallowed, and Dazai had taken a step forward, pushing you with him, the gun still swaying at your temple, even when the backs of your thighs hit the bed. You fell onto the mattress, and he was on top of you, his finger caressing the trigger as he collapsed.

Dazai had never scared you, not even when he was a child you’d barely known, the teenager shaped in Mori’s image. Though, now, the unreadable expression on his face was alarming you, and you wondered if all this time, you should’ve been fearful.

Still, even with your underlying hesitance, you felt a wave of desire crash over you at the sheer need in his eyes. It wasn’t something you were unfamiliar with, but there was something else there. Maybe it was the love you’d just never noticed.

“Osamu,” you said in a quiet voice, not afraid, but not confident either. Your finger brushed the point on his wrist—it was the same heartbeat you’d always recognized.

“What?” he said, taunting you menacingly as he towered above you. “You were so bold just a second ago? What happened, darling?”

Unable to do anything but blink back at him, Dazai brought his thumb to your lips, brushing it across the plump skin before dipping it into your mouth.

Unprepared, you nearly choked, eyes blown wide as you stared back at him. Though, there was a command within his eyes, and you obliged, sucking as you watched the saliva drip down to his palm. Dazai pulled it away from your mouth with an obscene pop, giving you a sweet smile from his position above you.

Despite your humiliation, you shifted your hips on the bed, bringing your thighs together to provide you with a fraction of relief. Dazai’s eyes flashed at the movement, his smirk widening with an amusement.

“You’re nothing more than a dumb slut, aren’t you?” Dazai’s hand ghosted of your stomach, settling on the inside of your thigh momentarily. You ached with need, swallowing your pride and any demands that you could make of him. “Had Chuuya all to yourself this weekend, and still expect me to fuck you senseless.”

Your brow furrowed, and you opened your mouth before shutting it, lips still covered in your own spit. “Osamu,” you began, attempting to diffuse the situation, to explain that what had transpired between you and Chuuya meant nothing, but he never gave you the opportunity. “It wasn’t—”

Dazai’s gaze hardened, the adoration disappearing the moment you dared to speak. His fingers deftly wrapped around your throat, thrusting you into the mattress with enough force to quiet you entirely. “Shut up. If I want to hear you speak, I’ll ask. Understand?”

You could do nothing but nod, hating yourself for the ache that had grown more and more intense in your core, desperate for some sort of contact. Dazai, distracted with his own task of tearing your top off, had failed to notice the breathing that had grown heavier, the flush of heat that spread on every inch of your body.

His slender fingers finally removed the confining pants, a task he did skillfully with one hand still wrapped around your throat. Then, his fingers were against your aching cunt, and you twitched, letting out a heavy sound from the singular movement. You could feel yourself pulsing against nothing, desperate for his fingers between your legs.

“Pathetic,” he said, his fingers lazily dipping through your folds over your underwear. “I’ve barely touched you. How can you be this fucking wet?”

“Please,” you said quietly, your own hand aching to take over, if only to provide yourself that relief that he refused to give you. Every time you shifted into his hand, he brought it away, taunting you with the release you so craved.

“Please?” Dazai was mocking, cruel, every bit of the person people expected him to be. The one he never had been with you, not until recently. “You’re nothing more than a greedy little whore. Must have been why you fucked Chuuya without a second thought, huh?”

You were silent, staring him down with a clenched jaw. Your brain was twisting, betraying you, turning into empty cells within your skull, and you weren’t sure how to handle the accumulation of emotions that you felt for the man before you, the one who’s love had always been purposeful and merciless.

“Well?” he said, tightening a hand to close off the air to your lungs, trapping you with his strength. “Answer me.”

“No,” you gasped, and when your words sounded choked, when you clawed at his wrist, he loosened his grip just a hair, the only indication that the man you loved was in there at all. Still, your hips acted of their own accord, shifting further into his hand. “I’m sorry, Osamu, I am.” You felt tears prick at the corner of your eyes as he finally slipped his fingers under your panties, rubbing your aching clit. “I wanted you; I needed you and you were never there, but Chuuya was, and—”

You were a stammering mess of desperation and regret, feeling unglued under Dazai’s hands, like the words you’d been meaning to say could finally come out. He was the only one who’d ever listened to you completely, who you’d felt comfortable enough to be vulnerable with. Yet, it had been so long since you’d let yourself be open with him, and now that the opportunity arose, you were too weak to deny it.

“I was always here,” Dazai said harshly, and you were almost certain that his anger was genuine, the tone breaking in his voice a result of true sadness. “You never came to me, and I thought that’s how you wanted it to be.” His fingers sunk into you, and you threw your head back into the pillow, moaning sinfully with the lewd sound of him sinking in and out of you, the wetness collecting with every movement.

“You never showed me you cared,” you cried out, certain that there were tears streaming down your cheeks, and you should’ve been humiliated. It was humiliating—the way you were clothed in nothing, crying as Dazai laughed at you, taking full control over your body. How he could’ve done anything to you in that moment, and you would’ve let him, because that was just how much you wanted him.

“And Chuuya was the solution?” He grabbed your cheeks with the hand that had once been around your throat, pinching them to make you look at him. “You going to pass yourself around the rest of the Mafia, sweetheart? Who’ll get a taste of you next? I’m not so certain even Akutagawa would pass up the opportunity.”

His words were senseless, meant to hurt you, and you still couldn’t stand the anguish that was in his eyes.

“No,” you said, and you leaned up, wanting so badly for his lips to be on yours, to feel some semblance of the connection that you’d always had with him. “I wouldn’t, Dazai, I’m yours.” You choked on the sounds of your own moans, your thighs shaking with every change in pressure. “I’m yours. Please, I need you.”

You were certain there were marks on your neck from his fingertips, and Dazai ghosted his mouth along the delicate skin there, biting at the soreness from before. You jerked, digging your nails into his back as you drew closer and closer to your climax.

“Don’t make demands.” Dazai leaned back, and you missed the closeness, the sharp scent of him lingering in your space. “Chuuya hasn’t been a part of this conversation yet. Should we get him up here? I hadn’t considered what to do with him, but this might suffice.”

Dazed and drunk on the feeling of his hands all over you, it took you a moment to process what he was saying. His hand was already swiping through his phone, picking the number of the man that you least wanted to see.

“No, Osamu, don’t—” you cried out, and yet, you made no move to stop him. Instead, you remained pliant on the bed as he sunk another finger into you, his thumb moving in agonizing circles against your clit.  He tucked the cellphone under his chin, smiling at you maliciously, controlling you with every blink of his lashes.

You had always had trouble resisting him. Now was no different.

Chuuya answered as you released another moan, and Dazai was grinning wickedly, as if some larger scheme had finally come together, the culmination of everything he was plotting. “Boss?”

“Chuuya,” Dazai said, and you flinched, locking gazes with his deep brown irises, the color so alluring and beautiful, a shade that had darkened with each misfortune you’d endured together. You hated him, you did, but there was a fine line between the two, and your love for him would die with you, would transcend whatever simple rules the afterlife placed on Earth. “How quickly can you make it up here?”

You could hear the hesitation on the other side; Chuuya didn’t say anything for a moment.

“A couple minutes, I think. I haven’t left the building.”

“I’ll give you a couple minutes then.” Dazai’s words were clipped as he hung up the phone, throwing it to the arm chair a few feet away from the bed.

His attention was back on you completely as you let out a shaky breath, trying to regain some semblance of composure before Chuuya came into the room. Though it was so hard when the pools in his irises were pulling you deeper, locking you into a heaven that you’d never been able to reach.

Dazai pulled away briefly, his soaking fingers leaving your body to alleviate his cock from the confines of his dark pants, hovering before you.

You swallowed, not able to remember the last time your desire for him ached this badly. Your eyes trained on the very part of him that you wanted inside of you, the tip flushed so beautifully. There was nothing on your mind but him, how you wanted every part of him, even if it meant enduring misery after misery, and Chuuya was right—if you were to love Dazai, you needed to love every part of him, even when it seemed impossible.

A whine escaped you and you were reaching out to him, knowing he’d never let you live down your humiliation, but the future was not a part of your logical thinking, not now. “Want you inside me.”

“Surely you can hold off for a few minutes,” Dazai said, though the way his toned chest pressed to your own, and how he kissed your face with a tenderness you’d forgotten made it nearly impossible for you to refrain. “So desperate for my cock.”

You wanted to touch yourself—you would’ve, had you not been so nervous of the fact that Chuuya could come in at any minute.

“Tell him to leave,” you said, dragging your fingers through his hair, finally kissing him like you’d been wanting to, and the sound was sinful, heavy with lust as you forced a taste into his mouth, wishing every part of him was a part of you too. “I don’t want him or anyone else, just you, I promise—” 

Dazai cut you off and ignored your pleas; he smiled against your lips, though it was anything but kind. “I think he’ll enjoy seeing you like this, won’t he? You’ve got such a filthy mouth on you when you’re fucked properly.” He kissed his way down your chest, resting his face just above your breasts. “I bet Chuuya didn’t see this side of you, did he?” Dazai licked a circle around your nipple, tugging it between his teeth. “I’ve done nothing but call you names and you’re dripping all over the sheets.”

You shook your head, feeling pained by how badly you wanted release.

“Of course not.” Dazai sat back up like he could sense Chuuya approaching from the other side of the door, his presence bold and detectible. “He’s forgotten what’s mine, after all.” He smiled at you once more, kissing you with a kind of love that only he could portray, the kind that was nowhere close to innocent. “Don’t cum until I tell you to. Be good for me, okay?”

Dazai had always known what to say to you, even when your relationship was falling apart, even when you hated him more than you loved him. His words could be so tender, the praise melted in with the unkind quips of his tongue. It was the gentlest tone he’d used since your clothes had come off, and you couldn’t help but melt under him, nodding like you’d give him anything he asked of you.

Of course you would.

Dazai traced your features delicately, grinning maniacally, ears attuned to the quiet that broke from the footsteps approaching. His cock was lined up against your dripping hole, and it took every ounce of restraint not to plant yourself on it, trying so hard to please him, the sinful man who held too much power over you.

“You’re so pretty like this, aren’t you? My beautiful little whore, always willing to take whatever I give you.”

“’Samu,” you babbled, blinking away the tears as you latched onto him, wishing you could spare yourself the humiliation, but too drunk on him to care. He shifted you forward, taking your thighs in his hands and placing them around his waist. “I can’t take it all at once—”

“You’ve done it before. Do it again.” He growled, squeezing your throat once more in one smooth motion, thrusting into you. And though you had doubted how prepared you were, he slid into you easily, already so loose and pliant from his fingers. “See? Never forgot the shape of me, sweetheart. Even after you’ve been with another man.”

You let out a choked moan as Chuuya walked into the room, lost in the ache and the burn and the pleasure that came with loving and fucking Dazai.

There was one singular pass of silence before Chuuya spoke, letting the door shut with a quiet click on the hinge. “Boss—” Chuuya was hesitant, though his eyes were immediately drawn to you, raking over your blissed-out form. “You said to—” His hand was still on the knob, though he was distracted, and tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, ashamed but so full of want that it ached.

“Come in, Chuuya,” Dazai said sharply, his words solid and commanding, and you couldn’t help it when you clenched around him, drawing him further into you with nails scraping down his back. “We should discuss something.”

“Well, can we talk about it when you’re not in the middle of fucking your girl?” Chuuya asked, swallowing down the desire he hid so poorly. His cheeks had flushed, words just on the edge of stumbling and slurring together. “Another time, maybe.”

“This is the perfect time, actually,” Dazai stopped moving, already breathing heavily above you as you stared, whined, needing so badly for him to stop teasing you. “Besides,” his eyes drifted knowingly to Chuuya’s obvious erection as he laughed darkly. “I don’t think you mind so much.”

Dazai pulled back painfully slowly before sinking into you with a quicker thrust, your back arching off the mattress to catch even more of him inside of you. A barely noticeable sweat had broken against his hairline, and you stared at him, mouth slightly agape in awe at the boss of the Port Mafia, the one you somehow had wrapped around your little finger.

Your breathing had grown unsteady as his cock got deeper and deeper inside of you, hitting where you’d never been quite able to get with your fingers, the thickness of him catching on every sensitive part inside of you. His hand was back between your legs, rubbing circles on your clit, and you weren’t sure you could last much longer, not as he carried on a conversation with Chuuya, who watched you with darkened eyes, barely holding himself back.

“Please, Osamu,” you were practically begging now, your cheeks glistening with wetness as you clawed at the muscles between his shoulder blades, surely leaving bruises all down his spine. “Please, please, let me cum.”

Dazai made a tsk noise in the back of his throat. “Not yet. I don’t think you deserve it quite yet, does she, Chuuya?”

Chuuya sniffed, shifting uncomfortably as his pants grew tighter. “Gonna punish her all day, boss? Such a pretty thing should get what she wants, shouldn’t she?”

Dazai dropped his chest closer to you, going deeper into you, and you cried out his name, though your eyes were still locked with Chuuya, as if he were going to be your savior. You remembered how gently he’d touched you, how careful he was, and you wondered why you’d ever wanted that at all.

“Chuuya thinks he can fuck you better than me, darling, but you know that’s not true, don’t you? He’d spoil you too much, but this is what you want, right? You want to be called a stupid fucking cockslut.” Dazai grinned against your lips, whispering in a breath that only you could hear. “Just so that at the end of it all, you’ll be my good girl.”

You whimpered, soaking him as you clenched harder. Your brain had gone numb from the feeling of him. Dazai was smiling viciously, but you could see the underlying tenderness.

“She looks so pretty right now, doesn’t she Chuuya? Not a single thought in that beautiful little head of hers.” He smiled at him knowingly, dark hair flopping into his eyes as the rest of the loose tendrils stuck to his forehead. “You’re lucky. You’ve gotten two chances to see her now. Twice as many as most men who fantasize about fucking a woman that sleeps in another man’s bed.”

Chuuya’s voice was raw, his words cracked. “You’re sick, Dazai,” he said, clenching his hands into fists. “Putting on a show like this just to punish me.”

“You and I both know you’re enjoying this.” Dazai traced your cheeks sweetly, kissing your lips deeply. You let out a strangled breath into his mouth, something on the precipice of a moan. “Can you do one thing for me, pretty girl? One more, then I’ll let you cum, how’s that?”

You nodded, desperately, as Dazai’s fingers finally dipped back down, rubbing agonizingly light circles.

“Tell Chuuya who’s making you feel this way,” Dazai said, pushing your face away from him to stare straight into Chuuya’s dark eyes. “Tell him who you love the most.”

“You,” you gasped out, clenching tighter around him. What an easy request to make—you’d never loved anyone else. “I’m in love with you.”

Dazai sniffed, though he was patient, slowing his thrusts almost to a stop. “Not good enough. I need you to be more specific.”

You cried out, locking your ankles onto his hips, trying to force him back into you. But Dazai didn’t budge, watching you until you provided the answer that he so desired. “I love you, Dazai.”

He frowned, shaking his head once more. “My name. Say it. It sounds so sweet from your lips.”

“Osamu,” you choked out. “I love you, Osamu. I love you. I love you.”

Dazai finally smiled above you, gently tracing your cheeks with his thumb as he slowed down the pace of his hips. “I love you too, darling.” His words were soft, whispered into your lips before he turned away, meeting eyes with Chuuya across the room. “See?”

Chuuya was glowering, stiff as a board, his face pink, and his legs shaky. “I got it, Boss.” He choked out, though his eyes were on you, unable to leave your body, even as he tried so hard to be polite. His aching cock strained against his pants, and he breathed sharply, swallowing over and over. “Do I need to be here any longer?”

Dazai laughed, and you thought he looked so pretty when he did that, his smile flashing wide and alluring, the corners of his eyes crinkling marginally. “Never said you had to stay. I figured you’d want to watch her come undone one last time.”

Chuuya, for as noble as he wanted himself to be, made no move to leave, glued to the spot on the floor beyond your bed. He was just across the room, but you couldn’t focus on anyone but Dazai, Dazai, Dazai, Dazai, the man who you’d killed and bled and committed horrible acts for.

You said his name again, scrambling to bring his attention back to you, hands on his face with a desperation you didn’t realize you’d possessed.

And Dazai, with the kindness of a man he wasn’t, placed his hands just above your stomach, leaving kisses across your chin as he thrust into you, sweetly, menacingly, one last time. “You did so good, my love. You can cum now. Make a mess all over my cock, beautiful.”

You jerked, squeezing around him as you felt the pressure in you finally release, the colors shifting and changing between your high as Dazai brought you in and out of an orgasm, his words reaching your muddled brain with soothing noises. Your body twitched as your muscles spasmed, sweat gathering in the space under your knees. There was little in your mind, save for the dark-haired man that had quickly become your whole world.

You smiled lazily, lacing your fingers with Dazai as you slowly began to come back to yourself. The world around you was empty. Chuuya had all but disappeared into a block of nothingness as you stared into the world itself. If there was no Dazai, there was no you, and it was as simple as that. He was everything you’d ever wanted—you’d be a fool to ever left him go.

As you regained your breathing, still sensitive all over, Dazai came inside you, spilling hot release into you, and you couldn’t bring yourself to care, too busy being satisfied with the feeling of him all over you.  His hands never left you—he was delicate, caring, pressing loving touches into your skin as you recovered from your high.

“I’m yours, Osamu,” you said, closing your eyes as you basked against the bed, wanting nothing more than to curl up against him, bury yourself in the warmth of another body. 

He smiled against your cheeks, lips flushed and bruised. “I know you are,” he said to you only, before pulling away. You shivered, but opened your eyes, and he’d already held the gun out to you, presenting it as an offering. “That’s why you’ll be the one to kill him.”

It took you all of ten seconds to remember who him was, and that the man who had borne witness to your most intimate moments with Dazai had not disappeared and was still gawking at you from the corner of the room.

“What?” you asked stupidly, your jaw falling open.

“You heard me.” Dazai pressed the pistol into your palm, curling your fingers around the handle. It was like ice against your hot body, and though it’d been years since your first time firing such a weapon, you suddenly felt like you were there again, uncertain, and afraid of the dangerous firearm. “Kill him.”

You stared at Chuuya, the honest man who, even despite his rough exterior, had been there for you since you were kids. You remembered how the three of you had been so close, for such a long time, until Dazai had gone and killed Mori and fucked it all up.

It felt wrong. The entire situation was wrong, and it never should’ve come to this.

“It’s Chuuya,” you said with tired eyes, something in your voice pleading and desperate.  

Dazai shrugged, holding you close against him as you struggled to sit up in the bed. Your muscles ached and you were still so sensitive, but reality was coming back to you. This was all a mess, and you wanted so badly to feel shame at everything you had done, but you were trying so hard just to–

“You’d think I’d let him live after what he did?”

“Osamu.” You weren’t sure you could bear it. You’d always sworn to kill whatever adversary Dazai and the Port Mafia faced, but Chuuya would always be an exception. You wanted him in your life as much as you wanted Dazai, someone you could trust without fail, who would listen to you complain even when it hurt him. “I won’t do it. He’s my friend. I thought he was yours too.”

Dark eyes full of disdain met your own, and he pinched your jaw once more, a mixture of devastating anger. “I can’t allow a traitor to live. I’ll kill him if you won’t. Then, I’ll kill you. Then myself.”

You shoved him away, suddenly wishing you weren’t so exposed, on display in the middle of the room. “Then fucking do it already, Dazai. What are you waiting for?” A tear broke free from your eye, and you wiped it furiously, not giving him a chance to mock you.

“Stop.” Chuuya finally spoke, his voice drawing your attention like a commandment, and you fell silent, refocusing on him as he bowed before you, dropping to his knees. Eyes locked onto your own without a single fear, cruel acceptance surrounding dark pupils. “It’s alright. I deserve to die. I’ve broken your trust, boss. I might as well be a traitor to the Mafia.” He swallowed, though he was unwavering. “I don’t want to live with this feeling any longer.”

“Don’t say that.” you spat, hating that such a strong man was giving himself over, exposing every weary weakness that he’d come to carry. “You don’t mean it.”

“I do.” He sighed, straightening his spine as he leaned forward towards your hand, much as you had done before, and you realized that this was such a sick, twisted change of fate. That the affection you’d always doubted was real after all, but Chuuya was still left playing the fool.

Perhaps, you were of the same vein, wanting desperately to die in the heavenly hand of the one you loved most. You could understand him for that. You could grant him one final wish.

“Do you regret any of it?” Dazai asked, as the wheels in your head spun, the decision dawning upon you, handed over from the ancient tragedies, rival even to the gloomy romances of Shakespeare.

Chuuya shifted towards the other man, looking into his cold, distant eyes. “No,” he said honestly, his jaw set. “I don’t regret it because now I know she’ll never love me. She’s all yours Dazai. Always has been. Always will be. Does that satisfy you?”

There wasn’t an ounce of fury in his expression when Dazai smiled back.

“You heard him,” Dazai said, lifting your limp arm by the elbow, pointing it like a skilled tutor. The gun was on Chuuya’s forehead, between his eyebrows, and your finger was on the trigger. Dazai’s whisper was like the Devil on your shoulder, and you were falling fast, your last shred of morality burnt from papery resolve. His hand supported your weakened muscles, guiding you along like you’d never before committed such an act. “You’re an assassin, aren’t you?”

You stiffened, narrowing your eyes before cocking the gun, mustering up the last bit of strength you had left. Chuuya couldn’t have looked more prepared for death, and you basked in Dazai’s prideful smile as he branded it into the crook of your neck.

“You’re certain?” you said to Chuuya, once more, hand no longer shaking despite your guilt.

The man, nothing more than a victim, nodded, and he had the audacity to smile, to look peaceful about his release from this life.

“I’m sorry, Chuuya. You shouldn’t have to bear the weight of my sin.” “It’s mine to carry, just as it is yours,” he scoffed, eyes hard with resolve. “Of all the things that would land me in Hell, I hardly believe this is the worst.”

You nodded, regrettably, and took a steely breath, erasing the heat the stung behind your eyes.

Then, you pulled the trigger. You waited for Chuuya’s brains to stain your floors, for the remnants of his skull to shatter all across the wall behind him. For the life to slowly drain from his stunningly bright eyes, leaving you with nothing but a corpse that would rot away wherever Dazai chose to toss his body.

Though, none of those things happened, and you stared at each other with fierce incredulity, knowing that you’d unwillingly become puppets in Dazai’s dramatic play, a show put on for no one’s entertainment but his own.

You’d been completely senseless, an idiot, really. The gun had felt lighter than usual, and you’d ignored it, even when you should’ve known it housed no bullets.

“Dazai?” you said in a low voice, dangerously, twisting to look at him from over your shoulder. An anger you’d never felt before had bubbled up inside of you, your heart thundering with a fierceness you hadn’t realized was a part of you. “There’s no bullets.”

“Obviously,” he scoffed, taking the gun away like it was but a toy, throwing it onto the armchair in the corner. “I’d never kill the strongest ability-user in the Mafia. You both should know me better by now.”

You scowled, the ugly expression marring your face, and Dazai frowned, leaning forward to appease you. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“You played me for a fool. Was all of this an act?” you cried, wondering if maybe Dazai had been lying this entire time. Maybe all those sweet words he said had never been true, and you had fallen for them anyway, like the mindless pawn you were.

“Which part?” Dazai asked, but you could tell that he knew what answer you sought, what lies you wanted to unveil.

“You know which part,” you said, moving away from him, not sure what emotion to grant control. You felt an intense amount of fury, misery, and pity for yourself, who’d never asked Dazai for anything but to be on your side, and he still couldn’t give you that. “Fuck you, Dazai.”

Your lip quivered, but if you’d begun to cry, shame would swallow you up and drown you in the dark abyss of misery. You would have no other choice but to throw yourself out the window, where everyone in the Port Mafia could bear witness to all the ways that Dazai had ruined you.

“Boss—”

Chuuya’s sentence was cut off sharply.

You’d tried to climb out of the bed, but Dazai had grabbed your wrist, stopping you before you could escape from him once and for all. Though he spoke to Chuuya, his eyes were hard on you, never leaving the set he stared into as you swallowed over and over, trying to think of anything but the sick feeling in your chest.

“You can leave now, Chuuya. Consider this your lucky day.” His voice was icy, threatening, and though Chuuya lingered a moment before climbing to his feet, he spared you nothing but a small glance in return.

You inhaled, then exhaled, trying to stop the simmering of blood within your veins, feeling the heavy weight of his hand on your wrist. As you sat there in silence, waiting for him to be the one to break it, you started to wonder how much of this was really Dazai’s fault, and how much you were the one to blame.

“It was a test.” Dazai tried to bring your attention back to him, letting only a fragment of emotion drain into his voice, though it was enough to slowly, slowly pique your fascination once more. “That was all.”

You wet your lips, though your tongue was just as papery. “So none of it was real.”

“What do you mean?” Dazai came to sit in front of you, his skin pale in the dark lighting, and you could see the cracks in his facade, and maybe this splinter in your failing relationship would slowly begin to heal itself. “Everything I said was very much real.”

His soft fingertips traveled up your arm, curling around your shoulder, across your collarbone, before settling in that delicate space between your jaw and your ear. There was a starry look in his eyes, the twin pair that had been exposed.

“Why would you do something like that to me?” you said, scrunching your face in remorse, wanting to slither away from him, even as he drew you closer, close enough to smell the expensive cologne he wore, the liquor that he favored when you were away. His hair had been freshly washed, and the smell of shampoo still lingered, even under the thin layer of sweat.

“Why would you do something like that to me?” Dazai countered, the hurt not veiled in the slightest this time, and it didn’t take a genius to know what he was talking about. Heat flooded to your cheeks, and you were looking away, wondering why he was pulling you close to his chest when he should be hating you with the passion of a thousand fiends. “How could I trust you after that?”

You parted your lips to speak, but your jaw was locked, and the inside of your mouth tasted like cotton.

“I’m not a good man,” Dazai said, kissing the shell of your ear, your temple, and you squeezed your eyes shut, clinging to his bicep. “You’ve always known this. Yet, for as often as you talk about me with disgust dripping from your words, I’ve never sought to bring you pain.” He breathed in deeply, and you buried your face into his chest, wondering how much longer it’d be before you wept. “You’ve caused me pain.”

You tried to cry out, to tell him that you never thought it would hurt him, but he’d seen the very same in you, hadn’t he? You’d never given him any indication that the coldness in his words was bothering you, that the blurred lines of your relationship were getting confusing and hurtful, and he had done the same.

“We’re not good for each other, Osamu,” you whispered quietly, your lip quivering. The weight of your voice shattered against your vocal cords.

He let out a breathy laugh, smiling against your forehead. “On the contrary, I think we’re the perfect fit.”

For what reason he believed that, you weren’t sure.

You clenched your jaw tight, but it didn’t stop the feeling of tears from overwhelming you, hot droplets that spilled heavy from your eyes, running off your chin to Dazai’s chest. Your hands shook, clenched around his arms so tightly you were sure you were breaking the skin.

Dazai pulled away, monitoring your face with concern. You hated the way he looked at you with such pity when he was the reason for such pain. Yet, you couldn’t help but curl into him, warm, never wanting to escape from his reverence. “Why are you crying, my sweet angel?”

Nausea soured your mouth, and the regret that tinged you, tainted you, was vastly overwhelming. It was horrible in a way that you’d never felt.

It struck you, then, that you’d been blind to Dazai’s every affection, too ignorant to notice the ways that they had shifted as his life did. He no longer held your hand over the table during meetings, but the chair beside his was just as grandiose, and he greeted you with something of a smile when you walked into each room. He no longer accompanied you on assignments, but you were always taken care of, in a hotel most people couldn’t afford with a partner that could singlehandedly take out a hundred men. He no longer picked you flowers from a wild field as he’d done as a boy, but the vase on the table always held a beautiful bouquet of deep, red roses, without a single wilting flower.  

Chuuya, all this time, all these years had been right. There was no use in loving Dazai if you couldn’t stand him in his darkest hour, the bitter ugly side of him that no one wanted to see.

You’d never thought about it, really, but you’d changed just as he had. Everyone in the Mafia had blood on their hands, was ruined in more ways than one, and you were no exception. If loving Dazai meant loving those parts of him, then loving you meant just the same.

The tears fell harder, and Dazai seemed panicked, stricken, always so oblivious when it came to the affairs of your heart, and sometimes he tried, but you couldn’t hate him if he didn’t.

“I’m sorry,” you said pitifully, knowing from the spoiled heart in your very chest had ruined everything. “I’m sorry.” You said it again and again until Dazai was shushing you, running a large, cool palm down your back, the only way he knew to soothe you.

“I wish I’d never done it. I wish I’d just spoken to you, asked you, anything—” you wiped your face, heavy breaths stuttering before Dazai took your hands away, and erased the tears for you. “I just thought you hated me. It was the only thing that made sense.”

Dazai smiled sadly, because no one had taught him to love. How was he to know that he’d been doing it wrong all this time. “I wish I’d seen it before. I didn’t mean to push you away.” He sighed, dropping his head to your shoulder with a weariness that he’d been born with. “I’m sorry.”

A tingling sensation began under your skin, and you were warm all over, realizing just how much that apology had meant to you. For some reason, it felt like coming home.

The strong grip that nostalgia had on you gradually began to melt away.

#chuuya x you #dazai x you #chuuya nakahara #dazai osamu #bsd x reader #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya x reader #dazai x reader #dazai osamu x reader #chuuya nakahara x you #osamu dazai x you #chuuya x fem!reader #dazai x fem reader #bsd chuuya #nakahara chuuya #bsd #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #chuuya x reader x dazai #bsd smut #dazai smut #chuuya smut #osamu dazai smut #chuuya nakahara smut #rylie writes ₊˚🎧

[harunayuuka2060]

Solomon: *chuckles* It's been a while since we had a meeting like this.

Barbatos: Everyone, the purpose of this meeting is to discuss whether we, the legal husbands and lovers, should allow Malleus Draconia to marry MC.

Satan: Why there's a need for discussion? We're not allowing it.

Belphie: Same.

Lucifer: I share the sentiment with my brothers. We're not allowing an additional to this relationship.

Levi: Lol. Unanimous decision.

Mammon: Uh, can I give my opinion about this?

Diavolo: Sure, Mammon. Let's hear what you have to say.

Mammon: First things first, I'm not siding with the dragon boy. But aren't we being too hard on him?

Mammon: Wasn't Malleus one of the students here who didn't give MC a hard time? Well, except, when he overblotted, of course.

Asmo: So~ Are you saying that we give MC to him~?

Mammon: No! That's not where I'm going at! And all of you should be honest!

Mammon: Why aren't you complaining when the others visit them? Huh?

Beel: Because the others won't live for long.

Mammon: Exactly! You know MC isn't the type to have flings!

MC: ...

MC: Mams... You have become so mature. *sniffles* I'm so proud.

Mammon: *blushes* Well, of course. I'm the best, right?

His brothers: *cringes*

Barbatos: Simeon? Is there something you would like to say?

Simeon: Ah, yes. *smiles* I have no issue if MC marry Malleus.

Belphie: Bullshit.

Satan: I can see you lying through your teeth, Simeon.

Simeon: *chuckles* I'm not.

Lucifer: You and Solomon seem to have come up with something.

Solomon: Would you like to hear our opinion?

Solomon: I'm sure all of you will definitely like it.

MC: I could feel a storm coming.

Solomon: If the legal husbands are against the marriage between the two, why not let MC give Malleus an heir?

The brothers: ...

Diavolo and Barbatos: ...

MC: I knew it.

Barbatos: Solomon...

Solomon: Haha! What?

MC: *is relieved none of the dorm leaders came to visit today*

Luke: MC, I don't mind having a younger sibling.

MC: ...

MC: Really?

Mammon: Yo, Chihuahua! What are you saying?!

MC: Mal, one question.

Malleus: What is it, child of man? *still feels embarrassed after learning that his grandmother asked their hand for marriage for him*

MC: You see... I can't marry you.

Malleus: *sad expression*

MC: But we have arrived to an agreement that, *clears throat*, I can at least try to give you a child.

Malleus: ...

Malleus: Pardon?

MC: Which comes to my question...

MC: Is it possible to wish from the stars?

Malleus: ...

Malleus: *his mood brightens* Yes.

Azul: This idea is absurd.

Riddle: Wishing for a baby from the stars?

Kalim: Hey! If it works, it works!

Leona: What if it doesn't work, huh? So the lizard will get depressed again?

Idia: Their plan isn't completely impossible.

Idia: Malleus is a nocturnal fae dragon.

Idia: MC is a master of seven demons that represent sins, and they're a strong mage themselves.

Vil: Well, it seems all we could do now is to witness how it will unfold.

MC and Malleus: *standing in the middle of a huge magic circle created by Solomon*

MC: You ready, Mal?

Malleus: *nods* *smiles* Yes, child of man.

MC and Malleus: *hold each other's hands*

MC: *starts chanting*

*The magic circle starts glowing.*

Silver: What is MC doing?

Lilia: *chuckles* They are trying to negotiate with the stars.

Malleus: *feels MC's hands getting warmer*

MC: *has stopped chanting*

MC: *making a troubled, awkward expression after a few minutes*

Malleus: Child of man?

MC: ...

*MC actually conversing with the unknown*

...: Two children.

MC: One.

...: You bypassed, so we're giving you two children for the inconvenience.

MC: Come on! Malleus is a first-time dad!

...: Two. Take it or leave it.

MC: *opens their eyes* *looking at Malleus*

Malleus: Child of man?

MC: Mal... I'm sorry...

Malleus: ...

Malleus: *smiles* It's alright. At least we trie—

MC: They gave us two.

Malleus: *dumbfounded* Huh?

*In Briar Valley*

Baul: Are these...

Maleficia: Yes. My grandchildren. *smiling*

Maleficia: Hurry, Baul. Send a letter to my grandson and MC, informing them that their children have safely arrived here in Briar Valley.

Baul: Y-Yes, Your Majesty!

Lilia: *celebrating* Grandbabies! TWO GRANDBABIES!

Sebek: Waka-sama's children... *starts crying*

Silver: Those are two beautiful eggs.

Malleus: *smiles* Thank you, Silver.

Luke: Whaa... They're really eggs!

Beel: Can I eat them?

Malleus: *glares at him*

Sebek: How dare you! *him and Silver immediately on guard*

MC: Beel, no.

Lilia: By the way, MC? How are your husbands feeling? *smirking*

MC: Haha... They're not fascinated...

MC: But they'll settle down. Don't worry.

#twisted wonderland #obey me mc #twst mc #twst malleus #obey me brothers #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me luke #obey me solomon #twst maleficia #twst baul #twst housewardens #twst x obey me

[meowsgirldrawing]

Part 2 to my MC (Obey Me NightBringer) angst post: (Since so many people wanted part 2’s idea)

You can hear a pin drop, even though they stood on what was mostly carpet flooring.

All the brothers had vaguely dissimilar reactions to Solomon’s words. Or at least the ones he started up with once he crossed the hallway and joined the others with Mammon in the next room. They heard his words, but their questions, their concerns got coiled up with the silence that followed.

Lucifer had a deep frown, eyes hiding his deciphering mind as he stood arms crossed tightly with one another. If MC were there, they’d be able to see how his chest is a tad slower in rise and falling, as if taking each shaky breath is hard to do and cover at the same time.

Mammon stood beside Solomon, perhaps the only one sensible to make sure he still talks without letting their emotions interfere. He’s not protecting him per-say, just making sure his younger brothers know to keep themselves in check and wring the sorcerer later. Yet he’s not too far off himself. Only one person and Lucifer could tell he’s one string away from shifting into his demon form. So consider his stance as a two way message.

Leviathan is the only one sitting, or still is. Curled in a ball, he’s staring wide eyed at the human. His skin tingles and he’s shifted in his demon form already, but it’s mostly a way to ground himself ironically. He’s not a defensive less weirdo, he’s a demon! A lord! He can handle this!…Handle hearing what’s happened to MC-his Henry…right?

That’s where Asmodeus comes into play, his eye catching the transformation and immediately places himself at Leviathan’s shoulder. His fingers, polished nails he just redone with MC and Satan yesterday night just before retiring to bed, crease into his brother’s hoodie with a gentle rub. It’s ok. Everything will be alright. Solomon will just tell them what they need to do and they’ll all be fine! They’ll get their sweet MC back, all nice and healthy and happy! Besides, they just can’t leave without him trying that new club.. they have something to look forward to, with him, with his brothers…right?-Right! He ignores how his throat constricts at the very opposite ideas blinking through this head, and focuses on the only other human he’s made a pact with.

Satan is silent, a calculating glint in his eye. He stands nearly just as still as Lucifer, on the side with the twins, claws gripping his hips, If MC was here, they’d probably joke how he looks like an angry dad about to give the lecture of a lifetime. What Soloman said… it doesn’t make sense. MC was in the house before night fell. He’s knows for a damn fact, he’s the one who walked them home himself. He offered to walk with them after the meeting, despite Mammons complaints and Belphie’s pouts, as he had to check his personal library for something ideally for a project. They had fun, pet and fed the stays on the way, stopped by a quick ice cream joint, and ended their walk by ending up in his room to study. His last look at them was them rubbing their eyes, careful of the still drying nails from Asmo dropping in unexpectedly, and sending them both a sleepy goodnight and see ya later as they set off for bed. It was late when they went to bed. Something’s not adding up..

Oh..But if you thought the older brothers were bad...

Beel is the only thing keeping Belphie calm on the outside. His hand an anchor over his shoulder, arm curled around his back in a gentle but firm grip. The twins listen to Soloman with an intensity that can burn Devildom itself to the ground.

Belphie's relationship may be shaky, maybe be sometimes tense as they try to move on from the past. But by his not- father does the Avatar of Sloth want to rein hell on whoever dares touch the human that helped him mend back into his brothers' lives. Into Beel's life. He may look pouty, may look bored. But anyone that knows Belphie knows a plan is forming behind his eye. They will find MC. And the fuckers who came up with such a funny prank.

Beel feels..lost in this type of situation. One day he's having dessert with the human who teases him about his weird choices in ice cream, one he quickly and smoothly throws it back at them with their odd choice in cake flavors. Before the two ultimately breaking into giggles as the human baps at his back and he's swallowing down his bite with a grin. The next day, next morning...gone. Silence at their open chair, vacant and untouched like it was before they came to devildom. It's not right, they should be here. Should be there with him and his brothers. Diavolo..what happened to them??

"That can't be possible.." Satan immediatly dismisses, a dower in his tone. His nose crickles at the idea.

MC? Lost in time? But they weren't near anything like that! And MC can't even cast spells, much less accidentally do such a thing.

Lucifer can't help but agree. "Since MC arrived, the House of Lamentation has been put under a strict spell to ward off curses or shifty matters that can harm MC." He scrutinizes at Soloman, the man himself staring back with a raised brow as if really? "Theres no way something snuck past it's defenses long enough to get to MC. I'd be able to tell."

"You'd probably would have, but this...force. It's unworldly." Soloman's fingers play at his chin, " I've been looking all over Devildom but as soon as I wandered towards this house, I felt something overwhelming. Especially around where MC's room resides." His eyes flick up, stern and a 'I know what I'm talking about' tone dosed in them.

"Something, or rather someone, took MC and threw them into the past. Your past, right after the Celestial War if I have my readings right." He gets out as Mammon shifts beside him.

Just..after the Celestial War? Wait...Oh shit-

Mammon's head shoots to Lucifer, "That means-"

Lucifer already knows, "MC is possibly with our past selves."

As if that sentence alone can strike the biggest blow on the brothers, then next one is the killer. Levi can barely breathe, same for his brothers- Asmo's nails unintentially dig into his shoulder but he could care less- as Soloman shakes his head. "They are with your past selves."

Things calm down, a meeting is made with Diavolo and the rest of their searching group, and it's decided ironically that the Sorceror himself will go. As much as they don't want to, most agree he's the best candidate. Simon and Luke are already a big no. Angels randomly staying in devildom for a long, undisclosed time? Following around whatever MC is covering as? It would be a sore thumb, obviously fishy. Nevermind if they could protect MC or not.

Yeah Luke pouted big time on that one, but after a hug from Beel, he calmed down some. Now he's just holding onto his jacket as the others discuss ideas in front of the two.

Most, like Diavolo, Raphael, Mephistopheles, as well as Thirteen all have jobs to attend to, some especially in need to keep stable for the sake of Devildom or the Celestial Realm. Barbatos would have gone, the idea given by Diavolo, if not for his counter of the other Barbatos able to sense him right away if he came to MC's aid.

Similar reasons for the brothers, as much as they detest it. It would not be good for anyone involved if any of the brothers were to be seen by their other selves. More trouble than needed just to rescue MC from a certainly unusual but equally terrifying fate.

Soloman's past self was never around much in the beginning anyway, so the chances of meeting him are much, much slimmer. Besides, Soloman is crafty, calculating in his every move, and cares well enough for MC as the rest to put their safety as first priority. So, yeah, they can trust him enough.

"Better bring them back in one piece, Sorcerer, otherwise I'll have that soul faster than you can breathe anything coherent." A light threat from Thirteen, eyes as slit as a cat's, her fingers drumming on her hips.

Light castaways from Soloman's hand, he smiles as he starts the spell by Barbatos's help. "Like I'd do anything else."

Lucifer's eyes narrow, "Of course." It comes right off as sarcastic.

With that, and a few additional words from the future King asking for both him and MC to come back safe, Soloman is off. Disappearing into a flash of light, leaving no trace like he was never there.

Bonus---

The next few weeks are....tense to say the least.

Each of the brothers had mixed feelings on the whole thing as whole.

Lucifer sticks to his usual routine. Keeping his brothers safe and in line, helping in Diavolo's plans for the school, and all around just trying to douse the flames of chaos from MC's unexpected disappearance. He shows as fine and stern as usual Lucifer goes by, but the very few, Mammon and Diavolo mainly, know it's merely a front the majority of the time. His days feel longer, colder, while his nights are double. Every night before bed, he stalks the House of Lamentation, checking on each and every one of it's inhabitants, and as he rears to MC's room, it's uncanny vibe of no owner, back to the way it was before they dropped into Devildom, he sees no one but the usual, sleeping face of one or multiple of his brothers. The only sight that warms his silent yearning. Even if for just the night.

In the daytime however, people can tell theres a new...edge to him now. Working together with Diavolo and Barbatos, the two help Lucifer without question on finding who the hell decided to send the human they all have inclination towards. MC help bring Lucifer and his brothers back together, MC has gone above and beyond for a program Diavolo honestly some little doubts about himself and washed them away even after being dropped in unexpectedly. And for Barbatos, the two themselves aren't sure, but they can tell it's not just because it's his duty as his Master's right hand man to help out with. So they search, and while Lucifer usually has doubts on his brothers' help on any matter that could affect the standing of the program, for once he doesn't hold their leashes and hopes they do as they please. They will find the miserable pest, he's sure of it.

The Mammon outside the House of Lamentation is scarily different from the one inside. The outside one is loud, money-grubbing, and just as troublemaking as he always is. Gambling and dealing with witches as he always has, the Avatar of Greed shows no difference despite the obvious missing human every student and teacher of RAD occasionally sees attached at his side. No whispering at the back of class, no loud shouts of nonsense at the lunch table they claimed as their own, no equal calls of their name as one tries to catch up with the other in the halls afterschool. Not even at the clubs, the missing human who'd usually be on his lap or at his side as he gambles away with a spikey grin. Nor dancing along with him as he would twirl or be twirled despite his flustered acts. Its like MC never existed and he's as what he once was. Yet, if people looked close enough, they'd see something shifting in his much more observant eyes, taking in his surroundings more often with a pitch of rage that hides behind his blues. He's still searching, still trying to find the lowly fucker who thought taking his greatest treasure was the best fucking plan in the world. They are sure to show soon, he damn well knows it.

As his daytime is a mock show of indifference, the house is quiet and chaotic in the not so fun ways. He tries to keep his brothers together, but all of them can see he's close to loosing it at times. No one teases, or judges, or even glances twice as they watch him go to the human's room instead of his for bed. Curled in their blankets or simply leaning on the headboard, eyes not as bright and blue as they should be. No one likes a quiet Mammon, but no one knows what to do either, so they let the older brother do as he will.

Leviathan..oh man. He's gotten better since the first few weeks of hell for them, but he's not his usual self either. He clings more to his room like usual, watching MC's favorite animes they've clicked to on their nights of choosing, suddenly getting reasons why they've enjoyed some of them. Most have happy endings. Most end with characters having either fond or bright smiles stretched across each of their faces. He can't watch the best friend scenes though sometimes, it hurts too much and makes him hug the stuffed snake squish-mellow they gave him. On the opposite end of the silent sobs into said pillow or staring into nothing with such vacant eyes as tears stream down his cheeks, making them look red and irritated at breakfast in the morning- which he barely comes to anymore, Mammon has to drop off his plate- The Grand Admiral of Hell is at play. Using his known skills as a strategist, he expands the search for the one that brought this hell upon him and his family. Interrogations, warnings towards suspects he has on a special list of powerful people, the true show of a snake ready to strike at every ready moment and everything around it can be a target. And if anyone questions, "Why do this all for a human anyway?" He always has a good answer, people would just simply need to drown for him to let it be known. Because they're his and his brothers' human.

If people think Lucifer is terrifying, just wait till you see his wrath, or well the person who was born from it anyway. Satan may have a charming smile, a easy flow of his words, a spark to his eyes that can make even the strongest swoon. Yet it's his greatest tool as he looks for the person responsible. Similar to Mammon, he's just less loud. He goes through each and every connection, spanning their connections and slinking through them all. And if any show signs of deception or as if they have something to share, he's lucky to finally use Lucifer's basement key at last. While most of his nights, some leading into the day, he's cool amongst his brothers. Possibly the most composed looking of them all besides Lucifer. Sure he talks a little less, his words may come off short or a bit tense here and there. But his cool facade is well put together. He actually helps Lucifer with the student council stuff, or at least lays off him to make it easier. MC was able to help mend their relationship into something better, something that makes him secretly enjoy Lucifer as an older brother as much as he'd deny it. Yeah they aren't the bestest of friends or brothers, and their relationship shift is still new, shaky, but it's better than it's ever been. And he won't use this as an opportunity to break it, no. MC trusts him to be smart and do the right thing, and he will. He just hopes his past self will have enough sense to listen to them, cause if he remembers his past correctly, the beginning of his life..He knows they are in a world of new challenges with that version of him alone. He just has to trust them like they do him, until they meet again. And they will if he has any words to say about it.

Asmo...he's..ok. He's used to putting on masks, putting up a pretty face and smiling to whoever wants it. But if anyone knows Asmo, the real one, he's a fucking mess. He goes to parties and night clubs, giggling and laughing with his fellow demons, but when he's alone. Sitting in the cold area him and MC usually occupy on their late night escapades together, he's silent, tapping the rim of his drink with a bored and colorless expression. A few of his friends stop every now and then and he throws up a smile and sweet rings of "Darling" or "Dear" left and right. But he tends to leave earlier than he usually does, ignoring the small pleas of his friends asking him to mingle longer. He merely says things like, "My dear big brother Lucifer might track me down if I don't." or "My human needs their favorite demon, but don't worry, I'll see you all later <3!" and as soon as the music leaves his ears, the doors slamming shut behind him, he's back to a world of greys instead of pink and flowery. There's admittedly a few nights Lucifer has actually had to track him down, finding him drunk off his ass in the corner of clubs, a wide smile despite the obvious ruins of his mascara greeting his older brother with such fake enthusiasm that has Lucifer frowning knowingly. Those nights he ends up either curled up on his big brother's bed, an easy way for Lucifer to keep an eye on him or tucked into his own sheets as he watches Lucifer grab the pain killers and cup of water from Mammon's hands before burying his heated face into the pillow MC's borrows on their sleepovers. Depends on how wasted he is honestly. It's one of the reasons why Mammon's keeping a bigger eye on him especially. Leaving with him to the clubs or shops he wants despite also wanting to work his charm in the search for the culprit. Which, despite his insistence, all his older brothers tell him to let them handle it. Sure, he has ways to help, but who knows what the person is capable of. So he reluctantly agrees. Somewhat. He's looking himself. Any person who isn't MC, his brothers, or their inner circle of friends is a suspect and Asmo is more than a pretty face afterall. He just has to use his charm a little here and there, he's sure, and the person will drop to their knees quick enough for him to find them. If not, he's always got his claws nails as backup. He's always enjoyed red as a nice shade <3.

Good news, Beel isn't as hungry as before. Bad news, he's not eating as much as he really should. It took about a week and a half to notice, but the moment Mammon set down the plate infront of Beel, and he looks at it and goes "I'm not hungry." is when everyone got concerned. Like. Terrified. He feels some bit of hunger, yes, but eating anything, all when MC could be going through hell with their past versions (especially the version of him who didn't have as much of a leash on his hunger as he does now) it makes any bit of hunger go away instantly at the thought of MC in trouble. At the thought that someone or he could be...Just the idea makes him want to vomit. His brothers, pointingly Belphie and Mammon, all try to get him to eat and while he does some, it's not nearly as much as he used to. Satan leaves him extra snacks while passing by him after his bookstore run, Leviathan drags him to movie nights, suddenly having a near buffet style snack pile in the middle of the two. One that Leviathan barely touches but Beel is too focused on the story to notice honestly. Asmo doesn't seem to do too much, but he certainly has taken up doing more baking around the kitchen, always texting Beel first who 50/100 feels conflicted on agreeing or not. Lucifer has once threatened to chain him to the table until he eats but relents when Beel just stares down at the plate before glancing to the vacant seat at his side. Eyes holding an internal battle inside. Belphie, to Beel's surprise, dragged a whole ass bag of mid-night treats to their room, and set it on his dresser. Telling him point blank, MC wouldn't want him, especially him of all people, to starve himself. Besides, how will he protect MC when they're back if he's too weak from low nourishment? While Belphie hates poking at the protective side of Beel, the side that has always put his twin in the most complicated feelings/situations, it's the side that wins over and makes him grab one of his favorite treats. Sure, he may not be scrounging the low lives of Devildom, or sending fleets of his contacts from all around in search of the culplit, but he's making damn sure the moment they find him, they'll wish they never looked in their human's direction ever. And that's the only thing besides the support from his patched together again family that helps him through the colder nights. And the cheeseburger pillow MC gave him that he holds tight to his chest every night.

Belphies....not the best. Not Asmo not best or Mammon, but, let's just say Lucifer is getting flashbacks to when he threatened to end an entire species in mourning of his sister. Yeah, that not best. The things that cicles through the youngest's head is unrelenting words he used to spout constantly when he first came to devildom, his unrelenting grief over loosing his sister and times in the Celestial Realm, and above all, his absolute hate for humankind. The way he was before was nothing like Satan, no, but he defiantly was nowhere near a ray of sunshine either. I mean, he isn't now half the time, but at least he has more common sense and pushed past all the negative hate to see that humans weren't the reason his sister was gone. They may have been a factor in the catalyst, but they were nowhere near at fault. Hell, one just loved his sister without even knowing she was an angel to begin with. And she loved him back, and while Belphie (Despite his own simple love for humans) couldn't understand the type of love she shared with the mortal. Now, he does. Now he's willing to do whatever it takes to get that unexpected human back, no he's willing to act like a sleepy Avatar of Sloth during the day, and stalks the dreams of the sleeping at night. As he checks his brothers dream, lately nightmares he tries to soothes silently with dreams of similar times, as he watches over his twins and bats away every bad thought or image that strikes his way, he's searching and planning. He conjures every dark nightmare he can, every fear, every gut retching image that could make even the Demon King himself wince in disgust. And as for MC themselves, they cloud his mind every waking moment he has allowed to think to himself. He's seen first-hand that it'll take more than just claws and teeth to take that human down for good, and as much as it makes his own gut clench with disgust and self-loathing at himself, enough to sound like Levi's twin instead, he just uses it as reassurance that whatever his past self throws at them, they can handle it. And if not, surely his brothers will for them.

#oc x canon #obey me mc #obey me shall we date #obey me mackenzie #obey me #obey me nightbringer angst #obey me nightbringer #obey me headcanons #obey me solomon #obey me lucifer x mc #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon x mc #obey me leviathan #obey me levi x mc #obey me mammon #obey me satan x mc #obey me satan #obey me belphie x mc #obey me belphegor #obey me beel x mc #obey me beelzebub #obey me asmodeus x mc #obey me asmodeus #obey me x mc #obey me x reader #gender neutral mc

[temis-de-leon]

Replaced MC AU/AU - Part 3

Characters: demon brothers, Diavolo, Barbatos, male! MC and crushing! male! NES (MC x NES)

How’s it gonna be , Intro – Part 0 , Part 1 , Part 2

Masterlist

CW: Solomon is mentioned, jealous and mean brothers, black cat x golden retriever behavior i think, one single kiss, a bit ambiguous at the end, not very angsty really, NES x MC centered

A/N: my favourite version of NES and MC by far, I enjoyed writing this a lot. However, my pc came out as homophobic and decided not to connect to any WiFi for this chapter, so I won't be able to update the links nor the masterlist until next week. Also, some people aren't properly tagged once again because I can't find their blogs for some reason?? So so sorry for that, but I don't know what to do about it.

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NES was… someone they didn't expect. Unknowingly infuriating, always distracted and too unbothered to care about any of his surroundings. He was a disaster that enjoyed living in disaster and, if they weren't threatened by his presence, Satan and Belphegor would love his insolence.

Barbatos remembered an occasion, one moment from the second week of NES's attendance at RAD, where Lucifer gave him an earful for his ‘impropriety and insulting attitude towards the uniform’. Mammon had been there too, shirt out of his pants and jacket nowhere near closed, backing his brother up.

NES’s pristine appearance lasted only two periods before MC saw him chocking under his tie and laughed at him in sympathy. After that, he'd only wear the uniform ‘the Lucifer way’ if MC was there to eventually mess up the outfit.

And how could the eldest brother object to that?

“They need to loosen up, Lucifer”

MC always had the last word.

Solomon found the situation hilarious. Witnessing the brothers competing against each other in search of MC's attention was one thing, but adding NES to the equation? Yes, Barbatos had to somewhat agree. It was funny.

Who had been cooking for hours in the kitchen if not NES trying to make a quick snack for his fellow human? And who was the first one to leave the House of Lamentation each morning, already waiting next to MC’s seat by the time everyone else arrived?

Mammon called him a simp. Asmo liked to call them both the kettle and the pot.

And while, yes, Lucifer was the one and only Avatar of Pride, none of the brothers were able to admit just how big of a deal NES was becoming.

When would it be too late?

.

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The Demon Prince's birthday arrived and the mandatory celebration was as grandiose as one could expect. Everything was bright and full of laughter, the streets cramped with food stalls, demons and witches alike throwing mesmerizing magic tricks for the children, acrobats, costumes, music…

At one point MC considered handcuffing himself to NES. Even Luke was easier to manage!

Fortunately, Beel ended up finding him playing darts with a succubus and her partners. Unfortunately, MC seemed to be the only one who wanted to check if he was okay.

It was becoming… draining.

Not NES, of course. Sure, he was a handful, but none of his mistakes were intentional. Everything he did came from naiveness and ignorance, being new to the Devildom, and what he lacked in common sense he made up in enthusiasm.

At least he didn't steal his valuables and he’d never threatened to kill him or eat his heart, something MC still thought about frequently. The worst thing NES ever did to him was throw them both to the ground when he tried to slide on the floor at full speed. And he still apologized for that from time to time.

Did the brothers ever apologize for all the things they did or said? The way they used to look at him? He couldn't remember.

Now they were doing the exact same thing to NES. Treating him like an unwanted guest instead of the roommate they insisted on having, turning down every single one of his ideas, including the good ones, and very passively threatening him in a condescending tone, as if they could impress MC with that.

Maybe it was a demon thing? Or rather regular jealousy brought to a dangerous level?

Whatever the reason, MC didn't waste any time sitting them in the living room and chewing the hell out of them, something that enraged Lucifer and put a strain in their relationship, still making it difficult to make small talk, but of course none of them would back down. The rest of the brothers weren't so obvious showing their annoyance, but it was still there.

The good thing was that, as long as MC was there, NES wouldn't be the receiving end of any bullshit. The bad thing was that MC didn't know what was going on behind his back. And NES, bless his soul, was never willing to tell him if any of them made him uncomfortable.

It was draining and NES gave him a sense of peace, but the brothers missed him and they wanted to monopolize his time, but MC wanted to spend time with his new friend and that made the brothers angry and jealous, which made MC anxious, which made NES worry.

Every factor made the situation worse. The brothers were too much, NES was too good for the Devildom and MC was too done with everything.

However, the time passed surprisingly fast as they sang Happy Birthday to Diavolo, eating in the midst of it all, dancing with each other and talking like they used to do before the ridiculous ordeal, albeit with a subtle tension that limited their topics of conversation.

They even ignored NES! Which was better than any other option!

So, once the voices toned down and the guests divided themselves into small groups, MC forced himself to whisk Diavolo away for a moment and have a serious talk, Barbatos following close and listening with a curious glance.

That proved to be nothing but a waste of time.

“It's too soon to take conclusions, MC. I'm sure the brothers just need time. After all, remember your first year here!”

He did remember. That's why he was so worried.

And why did Diavolo talk to him like that? He was 100% sure Lucifer insulted NES to no end anytime he had more than one horn of Demonus. What did they call NES in the privacy of their office? What did they think while they talked to him and faked respect? What were they plotting when they looked MC in the eyes and promised him they wouldn't threaten NES anymore?

Too many lies.

“Alo?”

But then… NES smiled so easily… Like none of that bothered him. Luckily, MC didn't mind caring in his behalf. He wondered if being able to save someone from the fate he had last year was the root of all his actions.

“You look so worried, you're gonna get all wrinkly! Not like you'd look bad, but if you're going to have wrinkles, won't you rather have them in your eyes? Like, from smiling too much, you know?”

He did smile then, imitating NES’s caring expression.

“There you are, handsome! You're gonna be the envy of all in 90 years!”

“Do you really think I'm going to live that much?”

“God, I hope so”

They laughed softly, but it still sounded too loud. MC looked out for the brothers, checking their positions in the ballroom before grabbing NES’s hand and dragging him to one of the balconies. He preferred not having the moment tarnished.

“Good idea! Too hot in there…"

“Don't lie to me”

“Wha…?”

MC stared at him quite sternly, although trying not to look to much like Lucifer, but he needed an answer.

“Do they still bother you? Do they threaten you? Do they ignore you? What do they do?”

“Whoa, whoa, MC. Here comes the frown again…”

He raised his hands, caressing MC’s frown until it softened. His touch was warm and soft and it made MC lean towards him, not wanting it to end. When he opened his eyes again, unknowingly closing them before, NES stayed in that position.

There was silence for a few seconds, interrupted only by the violins, the harps, the pianos and other instruments serenading them under the moonlight. NES could only stare at MC’s lips for a fragment of a second before someone grabbed the scruff of their necks with poorly hidden aggressiveness and brought them back to the ballroom.

MC raised his gaze in fury, bending down to help NES get up again. He expected to see red eyes and black feathers, but, to his surprise, what stared back at him were purple eyes and a long bovine tail.

He wanted to scream at him, to ask what the actual fuck was wrong with him. Would he had acted the same if it was one of his brothers instead of NES? Would he had such hate in his eyes?

But people were staring, very obviously amused at the sight of two humans being put back in place.

MC would have to wait.

.

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“NES! What happened?!”

MC watched as the boy waved at him, hanging upside down where Mammon usually spent countless hours. His arms were tied behind his back and the rope covered his body in a way that surely left no room for the blood to circulate properly. His head already looked dangerously red and MC knew he couldn't leave him there for too long unless he wanted him to have permanent damage.

“I think I failed my last test, but I don't really remember”

“What do you mean you don't remember?”

“Well, I'm very dizzy right now, but I'm sure it's okay. Lucifer will get me out of here soon enough”

Or he won't.

MC sighed, cursing in silence before studying the thick ropes and the tight knots. He knew he wouldn't be able to untie him by hand and he wouldn't be surprised if the kitchen suddenly lacked knives, no doubt the result of Lucifer's pettiness and sadism.

“Wait for me here, okay? I have to get something to cut the ropes…”

“Wait, wait! MC!”

He turned around, patiently staring at his loopy smile and cloudy eyes. He couldn't wait for too long, but maybe he could indulge a couple of minutes.

“What?”

NES briefly looked away, his embarrassment gaining MC’s attention. Now that was a rare sight.

“Have you seen Spiderman?”

His heart stopped for a second and he felt his cheeks getting hot. His hand, previously grasping his hip, fell to his side and made him lose balance.

“You can say no, of course. We can forget about this and I won't get offended. A little sad maybe, but I can manage. I like you too much to stop liking you for a kiss. Does that sound weird? You get me, right?”

His rambling gave MC the opportunity to go down a couple of steps in the staircase and align his face in front of NES’s. The position was weird and staring at his chin was an experience he didn't know he would get the chance to live, but he didn't care.

It wasn't until he finally kissed him mid-sentence that he noticed a figure peeking around the corner, eyes staring without blinking and jealousy ready to made itself known.

Accepting the challenge, MC closed his eyes and grasped NES’s hair, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss.

Dinner that night would be fucking awkward.

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Taglist: : @stfuchaase @k1-an @meggs-wonderland @kkeromenoo @va109 @marvelous-maniac @cruzerforce4256 @blarsh @marathedemonoverlord @junni-berry @arylleb @b-a-m-2006 @jonielunar @piercedddriver @cosmidaydreaming @bluegrey02 @anxious-chick

#obey me #obey me! shall we date? #om! shall we date #om! swd #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me mc #obey me reader #obey me oc #obey me male mc #obey me x male reader #obey me x male mc #obey me hurt/comfort #replaced mc au

[7-wonders]

what if jessamy lived and matthew was brought in by lucienne as extra help and matthew gets a little crush on jessamy and you notice how matthew seems to be strutting around a lot, his feathers are shiny and he always puffs out his little birdy chest when ever jessamy calls him handsome and theres something that seems familiar but you can't quite place it

until you call morpheus gorgeous when you see him in a new outfit and he somehow seems a little taller, his hair is extra fluffy and he has whatever the dream lords equivalent of a spring in his step is

When Morpheus finally freed himself from his captivity, Lucienne had been faced with a decision to make. Her Lord was determined to find his missing tools immediately, never mind the fact that he was still weak and without any sort of help. While she couldn't do anything about the first part, she could certainly assist with the second. Though Morpheus didn't approve (he was still traumatized by the death of Jessamy, but he would never admit it to anybody, least of all himself), he begrudgingly allowed this new raven, Matthew, to travel with him to Hell.

Imagine their surprise when Lucifer revealed they had taken Jessamy's soul for their own in the hopes that they could use it as a bargaining chip with the Lord of Dreams. This was unacceptable, and so a wager had been made. If Morpheus won The Oldest Game, he got his helm...and Jessamy. If Morpheus lost, then the demon Choronzon got...him.

Thankfully, the former had been the outcome, and Morpheus left Hell with his helm and one more raven than he entered with. But to say there had been some growing pains as the two Ravens of the Dreaming adjusted to both being the Ravens of the Dreaming would be a gross understatement.

That was then though, and this is now. By the time you came into the picture, there were hardly any signs at all that there had been animosity between Matthew and Jessamy. They worked together in harmony now, the perfect team. One could even call them friends...even if Matthew maybe had feelings that were a little more than friendly.

You're in the library with your two feathered friends when Jessamy's head perks up, an obvious sign that Morpheus is summoning her via the mental link he has with his ravens.

"That's me, then." She sighs as though it's a chore to have to go attend to Morpheus, but you know how much she enjoys it. How much she enjoys every moment of her second (third, really) chance at life.

"Official raven business?" you ask.

"The most official." She stands and shakes her feathers out, but stops before taking flight. "Matthew?"

He looks at her in surprise. "Yeah?"

"Your feathers look nice today."

"Oh! I—uh, I flew through a waterfall this morning because I wanted to try something new. Wasn't sure if it would work out."

"It certainly did."

Matthew tries to stutter out an answer. You can hear Jessamy laugh as she swoops off to catch up to Morpheus. If Matthew could blush, you're sure he would be.

He's still staring after her minutes after she's gone, and you can't help your amused smile. "You okay?"

"Absolutely." He nods, his chest puffed out in pride. You stifle a laugh and replace it with a hum, pulling your book up past your face so he can't see just how well you believe him.

These instances, of Jessamy playfully flirting with a head over heels Matthew, are not rare. She enjoys doing it, and who knows? Maybe she feels the same. Their routine is rather sweet, actually, but you can't help the weird sense of deja vu you get when you watch those two dance around each other. You've seen this act before, but where?

The next time you and Jessamy are together, you're both in a position that you did not ever think you'd find yourself in: watching Dream of the Endless play fashion show.

Normally, Morpheus just conjures up whatever look that he wants without a second thought. He can change his appearance at a whim, even though he prefers sticking to his familiar, all-black wardrobe. But this week, he's hosting his siblings. All of them, save his wayward brother, are to be in the Dreaming at the same time for the first time in centuries (Morpheus can't say for certain how long it's been, which is how you know it's been a long time). A "conclave of the Endless," he called it.

Weird way to say you're having a family dinner, but whatever.

Though he'll never admit it, he's nervous. Nervous about his siblings being in his realm, nervous about how the Dreaming looks after having spent so long returning it to its former glory prior to his imprisonment, nervous about proving himself and his power once more. This dinner matters to him, and since you can't be there to support him—he refuses to possibly put you in harm's way and/or at the mercy of cunning and powerful beings who enjoy making mortals their playthings, which you appreciate immensely—he's trying desperately to control the few things that he can, including his outfit choice for the evening.

And there have been a lot of potential choices. Seriously, he's tried on so many outfits that you're starting to lose count. Coats and cloaks, robes and rubies, boots and blacks. It's a dizzying blur by now, and Morpheus looks as done as you feel. He's nothing if not relentless though, so the rigamarole shall continue.

He turns to face you when he's settled on a new choice, and you both look at his outfit with the discerning eye of a critic appraising a work of art. After a few moments, Jessamy, sitting on the back of your chair, is the one to speak up first.

"The collar does not suit you, my Lord."

His gaze goes to you, and the helplessness in his eyes almost makes you say that Jessamy's wrong and you like the look. You'd be lying, though, and you like to think that a core tenet of your relationship is honesty. With that in mind, you grimace and shake your head.

"She's right," you begrudgingly agree.

Huffing is an action that's below Morpheus. It's a very mortal thing to do, so naturally the Ruler of the Nightmare Realms does not huff. If he were to pretend to huff, though, the way that he abruptly turns back around and sighs heavily through his nose would be a very good impression. Your lips twitch when you glance at Jessamy out of the corner of your eye only to see her pulling the exact same move towards you, but you stay silent and go back to the watching and waiting game.

About three outfit changes later, something clicks, and you sit up in your chair in excitement. "Ooh, that's it!"

"You're right," Jessamy echoes your earlier words, only this time in a far more positive connotation.

Morpheus raises an elegant brow. "Elaborate, please."

"That's your outfit for tomorrow," you insist. "You're gorgeous, my love."

He stops fussing with his outfit and looks at you through the mirror. "You truly think so?"

"You look so handsome in that outfit. I mean, you're handsome all the time, but c'mon!" You grin, because how can you not? He's one of the most attractive men (-shaped beings, if one were to be picky) you've ever met in your life, and he's yours.

He holds your gaze for a moment longer, as though attempting to detect any deceit from you, before inspecting his appearance one final time. With a nod and a very small, very self-satisfied smile, he says, "Then I shall wear this tomorrow."

"Perfect." Next to you, Jessamy sighs in relief, and you shoot her a furtive thumbs-up for a job well done.

Since your part in ensuring Morpheus has a successful dinner is complete, you leave the Dreaming hoping for the best and preparing for the worst. What this means is that you're expecting to fall asleep the day after the dinner is scheduled and walk into the worst hurricane that would ever be recorded were it in the Waking. Morpheus likes to act like he has no emotions, but the reality is quite the opposite. In fact, he has so many emotions, and they're all so strong. He just doesn't know how to deal with them, and chooses instead to hide them away until they burst.

Instead of the anticipated disaster zone, everything is...calm. Actually, it's a beautiful day. Think of the nicest spring day, and multiply it by at least 10 (maybe more). That's what this weather is. The sun is out and shining, the temperature is warm but not hot, and everything is in full bloom. Hell, there are actual flower petals dancing through the air right now. Flower petals!

You snag one of the petals and hold it gently between your thumb and forefinger, feeling the silkiness against your skin. "What kind of Disney movie am I in?" you mutter.

You feel Morpheus's presence behind you a mere moment before he asks, "What was that?"

Even with the environmental warning, he still makes you jump, and you turn around to face him. "Hi! How did it go?"

"Far better than I could have expected."

There's something...different about him. His hair looks especially messy and windswept (not that you're complaining, you love that), he's still wearing his special dinner outfit, and did he get taller? You feel like you have to look up just a little bit more to truly look at him so yeah, he definitely got taller.

"Good. I knew it would, though."

"You did?" he asks curiously.

"Of course. I had complete faith in you."

Those starry eyes of his twinkle brightly as he smirks at you, and the realization hits you like a truck. Now you know why Matthew's mannerisms have been so familiar! Because you've seen them before, and you're seeing them now. Morpheus thrives off of your compliments. How...interesting, and a theory that you need to test out immediately.

"I'm really proud of you, y'know." His lips turn upwards into something that's almost a smile, so you continue. "I know how hard this was for you, how much you worried, and you handled it beautifully."

The beautiful flowers surrounding you burst into the air, their petals falling down around you in the multitudes. You start to laugh, but Morpheus doesn't let you make another sound, instead ducking down (from his markedly taller height, mind you) to kiss you. Though you're caught off-guard, you quickly get with the program and return his affections.

"I would like to celebrate with you." He says before moving his lips to your ear, even though nobody around can hear him whisper, "In my chambers."

You pretend to think for a moment, because a moment's all you can spare. "I'm certainly not opposed to such plans."

He pulls you to him in a way that suggests you didn't really get a choice otherwise and grabs his sand from his robes. You press your lips together to hide your smile and happily hold onto him. Oh, you are so using this to your advantage from now on.

#morpheus x reader #dream of the endless x reader #dream of the endless imagine #morpheus imagine #is this good? really not sure

[elaina-writes-things]

Hi I have a lucifer 18+request if you’re still on the high. You can make it a dable or headcanons. Whatever you’re most comfortable with.

You’re sitting on the couch reading a 🌶️ book and Lucifer crawls between your legs and tells you to keer reading as he eats you out.

I was gonna take it seriously, I swear. But I just really think Lucifer would act like this, and now here we are.

The content below is NSFW/18+ !!!

--

You loved to read when you were alive. Every home you lived in always had at least one, large bookshelf dedicated to your collection, and that didn't change after your death. You were thankful that, even eternally damned, there were simple pleasures to indulge in, and everyone who knew you could bet on finding you with your nose in a book if they needed your attention.

That was how Lucifer met you. It was also how he found you, waiting outside a restaurant for your first date. And how he found you the morning after you spent your first night together. And...well, you get it.

"If I didn't know any better," the seraphim complained, crawling into bed to settle next to you for the evening, "I'd say you liked spending more time with your books than little old me."

You slipped a bookmark between the pages of your current piece of literature, resting it in your lap, and gave him a sheepish smile.

"I adore you," you promised him, "I just love how wonderful these books are, too. Every turn of the page sweeps me away to an adventure of the mind. I can place myself in the protagonist's shoes from the comfort of my home! I can almost feel every struggle they endure. Every fight, every triumph, every kiss, every —"

"Kiss?" Lucifer perked up, and before you got the chance to respond, he'd snatched up your book and was flicking through the pages. "Ohohoo, my dearest, why didn't you tell me you were reading such salacious things? If you're looking to experience pleasure, by all means, you just need to ask."

Suddenly, the book was thrust back into your hands, and you stiffened as the blonde straddled you.

"Uh, what are you doing?" You asked, cheeks burning.

"Read to me, dove," Lucifer grinned, eyes alight the same way they did when he came up with a new duck-based innovation. "You want to live vicariously through your books? I can give that to you. So, read."

You glanced at the page Lucifer had flipped to and felt like you were going to catch fire. He'd chosen a scene in which the heroine of the book had stolen away with her appointed knight for an evening of passion before she was forced to marry the prince from a rival kingdom.

"Oh, I don't know," you muttered, "this is really — ah!"

Lucifer was still wearing that smarmy little grin as he pulled on your hips, dragging your body towards his, and started undoing the buttons on your pants. Cheeky fucker didn't even have to look, he was just popping them open with a flick of his fingers.

"Go on," he encouraged, settling himself comfortably between your legs after he pulled the fabric down. "Don't tell me you're getting stage fright? Show me what kinds of stories you indulge in so voraciously, darling."

You hid your face between the pages of your book, which only forced you to stare at the words he demanded you recite. When you tried to squirm away from him, only to have two deceptively powerful hands press you firmly to the mattress, you knew there was no getting out of this.

"Finally," the princess sighed, "alone at last, my dear. I am all yours tonight."

"Tonight. This night," said the knight, "but it could be every night...run away with me, princess."

"I want nothing more, beloved," she proclaimed, "but I have responsibilities to my kingdom. This marriage will forge an alliance that will help us for future generations."

The knight's face twisted in pain for only a moment, before it morphed into a calmness as cold as his armor.

"Then tonight, on this night, I'll make it one that you'll never forget."

"How many times can they fit the word 'night' into one chapter," Lucifer muttered, placing a small kiss on your knee. "Skip ahead a couple paragraphs. Get us to the fun part, my dove."

You resisted the urge to close your legs, knowing it would be a fruitless effort with how hungry his majesty looked, and flipped to the next page.

Princess Calliope carefully gathered up her skirts, the soft fabric brushing against her even softer legs. Xander, her knight, knelt in front of her and trailed one gauntlet gently up her calf —

"With his armor on!? There's no way that would feel good for her."

"I mean, he's gonna take it off eventually."

"Skip another couple paragraphs."

The princess shivered under Xander's touch. His large, broad hands squeezing her thighs pulled a gasp from delicately parted lips, and she had to fight not to cover herself as she lay bare to him.

"There are many ways to prepare your body for mine, princess," Xander murmured, "but this one is my favorite."

He lowered his head and placed a series of kisses on each of her thighs, trailing closer and closer to her hot core.

Calliope whimpered when her faithful knight's lips reached her flower. He kissed each side reverently, then used his tongue to part the p-petals, licking a firm st-stripe up the length...o-of...

Your reading stuttered when Lucifer's actions began to mimic Xander's. Now that his commentary wasn't cutting in every thirty seconds, the written experience being actively performed on you was much more erotic than you anticipated, and you reminded yourself to thank him for that little idea later.

"Keep reading," the blonde requested. You bit your lip and tried to ignore his warm breaths on your pussy. The words on the page were suddenly much harder to read.

He kissed each side reverently, then used his tongue to part the petals, licking a firm stripe up the length of her sex until he reached the little, pink bud at the top. Xander kissed it, d-delighting in the squeal he pulled from his beloved, then wrapped his lips around it and sucked g-g-gently while his fing-fingers circled her entrance.

Calliope felt like she was on fire. Her body responded to Xander's in a way she'd never known until tonight. It's like she was a violin, and he was the musician plucking every single one of her strings.

"Why is he plucking violin strings? Is he stupid?"

You groaned, now thoroughly turned on but annoyed by your partner's continuous interruptions.

"I'm just saying that's not how you play a —"

"Do you wanna eat me out like the bitch in the book or not!?"

The short king's red eyes widened, then his expression became unbearably smug. You resisted the urge to toss a pillow at his head.

"Look at you, playing hard to get at the beginning and now practically begging me to get lost between your thighs. I knew this would be fun for you. Maybe if you beg a little more, I'll —"

Pillows were too soft. You threw the book at him instead, relishing in his cry and the thunk that emanated from the collision.

"Next time you wanna do something fun, Luci," you said, getting up and kissing the blooming injury on his forehead, "don't criticize it start to finish."

"I'd argue there wasn't a finish," he pouted, wrapping his arms around you for a snuggle before you could pull away.

"Who's fault is that?"

"I'll make it up to you," Lucifer promised. "Anything you want, you name it."

That piqued your interest, a smug little grin of your own starting to form.

"Anything?"

He nodded excitedly. "Tell me what I can do for you, love. How will I make your dreams come true?"

"You."

"Me?" He echoed.

"And me."

"And you. Me and you," he chirped, practically bouncing as he hugged you tighter.

"And the biggest strap we can find."

What little color existed on his face drained away. Lucifer stared at you, eyes wide and round, then buried his head defeatedly in your shoulder. His blonde hair tickled your jaw, and you placed a gentle kiss to his temple.

"I did promise anything," he mumbled.

#lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer x reader #ask prompt #request #sorry this took a couple days i got busy

[xjulixred45x]

Can I please request the female douma in hasbin hotel I just saw the new trailer and thought about my favourite demon lazy demon .

Ohhhh, Hazbin Hotel! That pretty cool! Deal ;)

Thanks for the Request ❤️

Hazbin Hotel x Douma Reader

Genre: Headcanons

Reader: neutral

Warnings: Douma itself is a Warnings (Cults, cannibalism), Hell, Alastor, mentions of alcohol, long work.

You died during the Taisho era, in Japan. having lived a fairly long and…full life, so to speak.

You were born with a unique appearance! with Rainbow irises that made you extremely popular in the area where you lived.

So much so that the people in your family believed that you had a special gift for speaking with the gods, so they formed a cult around you.

without knowing that in this way they would be awakening the darker side of your being.

As you grew up, being worshiped by the cult your parents had made, you couldn't really learn to differentiate emotions, which was frustrating. You wanted to feel SOMETHING, anything. have the experience.

and you tried everything.

do good things, do bad things, help the cult people with words you didn't really mean, scam, hurt, hurt animals, hurt yourself, hurt others in multiple ways, etc.

Even if they generated a certain feeling of emotion in you, you wouldn't say that they filled you up.

until you decided to try killing certain disciples and eating them to get rid of them.

and it was a success!You finally started to feel the emotions that others talked so much about!

Although of course, not all good things come for free, when you died there was no doubt that you would fall to hell, and so it was.

Honestly, You were very surprised to have fallen into hell, not because you didn't deserve it, but because you were an atheist all your life, believing that everything you preached was a lie.

And it turns out that it was true?? How curious.

but it didn't mean you wouldn't take advantage of your new playground.

With your natural charm, your unique and striking appearance (almost the same as you were when you were human) you were able to convince several low-ranking demons to trust you with their souls, rising in rank exponentially.

To make it easier for you, with your demon abilities you created a place similar to what your cult was like, there you could more easily control the people who gave you their souls.

In record time you became an Overlord. one quite well known but very mysterious. One that had a striking appearance and powers, but was rarely seen.

You could do anything you wanted in hell! which made the scope of your misdeeds increase exponentially, you couldn't be happier!

If we're talking about interacting with Hazbin Hotel's rl cast, of course you did! You were somewhat curious to know how Lucifer's daughter's attempt at humanitarian aid would fail. Also, bother Alastor? You are in!

Technically you already knew Alastor, you two died at similar times (you died before) and you saw how he rose very strongly among the Overlords, you liked him.

Unfortunately Alastor did not enjoy your company in the least, precisely because it made it very difficult for him to read you, either because of your lack of GENUINE emotion or because, like him, you used the trick of always having a smiling and pleasant facade.

Still, of course, he would rather be killed again than admit that.

But it was really a shame, he found some aspects of you pleasant.

For example, your taste in Canibal cuisine, Alasror recognized that you had good taste in that aspect.

Apart from that, you came from a VERY rich culture and spoke fluently in both English and Japanese, which was a great sight. Alastor normally wouldn't think that someone (at first glance) so airheaded would be able to speak a language like that so fluently.

but he is definitely something like your Akaza.

I mean, every time you push him out enough, Alastor will use Elrich magic on you and destroy you in the most grotesque ways possible.

That's until he realizes that you like it when he does that! That you make him hurt you on purpose because you're a masochistic son of a bitch!

The worst thing is that he doesn't realize this until Husk tells him...having already known you for years.

Speaking of, Husk doesn't trust you, not in the slightest.

he thinks you're a freak, a second Alastor but even worse, at least Alastor is honest about how horrible he is unlike you.

He serves you drinks when you ask, but if he can, he throws the glass directly in your eye or head, simply because he can. for your delight.

He is quicker to realize your intentions than the average person, and if he realizes that you want to turn one of the hotel members into your "dinner" he is drawing the cards SO FAST---

lots of offensive nicknames, to counteract the "affectionate" nicknames you give to people you know.

Don't touch it or ask it by surprise. Have you seen how cats do when they step on their tail? that's Husk when you surprise him.

Charlie...she's insecure about you.

and she feels BAD about it! She is supposed to be impartial and that everyone deserves a chance to change their ways! but you...well, it's you.

Charlie is not so naive, when more than one member of the Staff warns her that you are bad news, she is considerate of them and tries to make you leave, they have already had incidents with Overlords before, she wants to believe that you are different.

but it proves quite quickly that not when you show your more... somber side.

She tries to be cautious, failing miserably because she wants to know everything about you. You are someone very interesting!

Charlie definitely didn't have much of an idea who you were when she met you, your name did ring any bells, but she didn't think it was that important ---

until you casually blurted out the information that you had a fucking cult.

and that you eat demons.

FROM THE SAME FUCKING CULT YOU HAVE.

There Charlie decides to put into practice everything given in "setting boundaries" and tells you that although she likes how... you liven up the atmosphere of the hotel (and the air conditioning in some way) she DEFINITELY does not want to associate with you having Alastor.

if she KNOWS that you are trying to do something against the hotel or any of the staff members (especially Vaggie)...ohohoho buddy, prepare yourself for an ANGRY Charlie ready to show you WHO'S THE BOSS HERE.

(She definitely tries to get several members of your cult to go to the hotel with her to protect them from you).

You get on Vaggie's nerves. A Lot.

not only because you cool everything you touch, but because you are very similar to Alastor.

She knows you're hiding something, that you want something from them but she can't get it out of you easily, so she's content to just watch you from a distance and make sure you don't mess with anyone.

VERY PROTECTIVE WITH EVERYONE WHEN YOU ARE THERE, it increases the hotel's defenses by 130% and keeps you away from where others are.

You definitely like to annoy her by calling her names that are too friendly for your type of relationship or even using her as an armrest. In these types of cases you usually receive a few good punches in the ribs or a headbutt.

If you try to get too close, she applies the pilot's weapon to you, that is, she takes out her angelic spear and threatens you with a lot of violence. cursing you in Spanish in the process.

She's not as intimidated by you as she is by Alastor, but she definitely doesn't think you're safer for any reason.

less after finding out what you do with the people in your cult.

good luck keeping Vaggie from killing you!

Angel Dust is scared of you, like, really scared.

It's not because you're similar to Alastor, or because you're a Cannibal, or because you're a powerful Overlord. not at all.

It's because you are very similar to Valentino.

You pretend to be a good person, that you give a shit about what happens to the people at the hotel, but really no, it's all fake. REALLY fake.

you feel nothing.

and that terrifies him. He doesn't know how he acts around you. so Angel avoids you as much as he can, going near the fireplace since you don't like the heat, or near Husk.

he keeps making jokes at your expense, but it's really his way of handling the situation.

apart from the fact that Angel genuinely thinks you're pathetic, because you couldn't find any other way to enjoy your life and another life other than hurting people.

that's pathetic.

Yes, she won't let you be near the most vulnerable residents, like Niffty (when she's drunk) and she definitely won't let you be near Fatt Nuggets.

Try him and he will show you what he lived by while he was alive.

Niffty isn't scared of you in the slighleast.

In fact she is attracted to you on many levels, but Alastor will NEVER LET you be even a kilometer close to her in his presence.

In fact, there is a high possibility that you and her will secretly become friends, but Niffty better take care of herself around you.

She makes you use your ice powers so she can make things in the snow, snow angels, dolls, kill bugs with snow picks, etc.

she likes you and you like her :) surprisingly.

Sir Pentious is quite similar to Angel with you.

Sir Pentious is very aware of your reputation as a fearsome Overlord and definitely does not want to join the list of victims with his Eggboys, so he stays as far away from you as possible.

He has tried to make inventions resistant to your frozen currents, since it costs Charlie quite a few resources (because you don't pay a shit for what you break, you cheapskate) and certain artifacts that counteract your ice powers.

He brings several of his smoke machines to the hotel when he knows you're coming to visit (and if you come as a surprise, most likely everyone will hide in Pentious's warship because it's very hot in there.

Yes, he doesn't let his Ehgboys be near you in the slightest, he tells them horror stories with you like the big egg-eating monster.

and if you try something with his Minions PREPARE FOR THE DEATH RAY--

In general, you are a pain in the ass for everyone, everyone, always :)

^when they find out You come to visit

Shares, reblogs and comments are very welcome!

Thanks for the Request ❤️

#headcanons #fem reader #neutral reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hotel hazbin #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel charlie #hazbin alastor #hazbin angel dust #hazbin husk #hazbin niffty #hazbin vaggie #kny douma #hazbin hotel sir pentious

[ch4osworld]

THE PASSENGER

A Lucifer x fem!reader ff

This is my first time writing a fanfiction, or writing in general plus my native language isn't english so sorry for any mistake! Critiques are welcome as long as they are respectful and reblogs and comments are well liked! I am planning to make this a series so tell me if you like it!

Words:1509

You were in the garden of Eden, long (h/c) hair flowing behind you. That's when you were created, when you begun living. You were made to be the first wife of the man Adam. You truly loved him, at least you thought you did, you did everything he told you, always being good...then why were you taken and put into heaven?Why did you have to be taken away by your one true love?You stood there, confused, scared even, with only your long hair covering your nudity. That's when you met him, an oh so wonderful and stunning angel, Lucifer was his name. He dressed you, took care of you, cared about you. It didn't take long for you to catch feelings for him. What was a lady supposed to do when some handsome was so caring to you, so touchy even. You still remember the times he took you flying with him, the look of adoration he gave you, it was just you two, flying in the sky peacefully. The comfort he would give you, his touch always lingered on your skin, oh how you wanted him to hold you like that forever.

You stood there, high in heaven, observing Adam, the one that was supposed to be you husband, with another woman. Lilith was her name, how could he do this to you? Did he not love you? No you were sure he did. But if you were so sure then why did tears start falling from your eyes? Why did you start crying like that? You felt horrible. If the man that was supposed to love you for eternity didn't want you, who would have? You hear rustling behind you, and that's when he came: "Y/n? Are you ok?" You didn't respond to him, you didn't have the strength to, you felt so embarassed, you were so vulnerable,what would he think of you now: "Oh sweetheart what happened to you? Who hurt you? Please don't cry I hate seeing you like this. I know that whatever the problem is we can deal with this togheter" and there again, the usual hold he would give you in those moments. He treated you with such a care, you felt bad for him. You used all your strength to mutter some shaky words: "Why is he with another woman, who is she?"  He answered, holding you closer to him: "Dear, is this really the problem that's taunting you every day? Don't be sad, please, trust me he doesn't deserve your love. He doesn't deserve you! You are the most wonderful woman I have ever laid my eyes upon, it's not your fault he doesn't see your beauty. It's not your fault he doesn't love you". You sobbed back: "No, no he does love me. I was made for him he surely dose. He just doesn't understand it yet". He watched you with compassion as he kept comforting you.

Lucifer, or Luci, as you would always call him, always talked to you about all his plans and ideas. You never understood them much, you were too naive, too dumb and stupid to understand, but you would always support him through it no matter what. You always encouraged him to expose his ideas, you were his number 1 supporter. You loved him oh so much, you always did and you always will. Nothing would have prepared you to the day he got casted down from heaven, and with Lilith too. Not only have you lost the one you REALLY loved, he loved someone else too, the same one that stole Adam away from you. Damn Lilith, if only you were as pretty, if only you were so captivating maybe it would have been you who got casted down with him. After that you came back to the life at Eden, becoming Adam's wife again, but you couldn't be happy, not when Lucifer was gone for good, you longed for his grasp once again, and so, you did the unimaginable, you decided to fall down for him. You always liked to explore places, you saw a lot of heaven, it was bound that you eventually found the entrance to hell. You were afraid, but your love for him guided you into the pits of that horrendous place. You did it for him, and him only. you jumped and fell for who knows how long. You landed in a place full of Sakura trees, it was beautiful, absolutely stunning. The petals on the ground where as soft as snow and it was so calm you could easily fall asleep in there. You didn't have the time to savor the space you were in at the time. Too focused on the pain all over your naked body. You couldn't give up yet, you had to find him, you had to find Lucifer. You were trying to move from the ground, to get up peraphs, that's when he found you.

Lucifer was relaxing among the trees when he heard a loud thud. Startled, he went checking what the source of the sound was, and that's when he saw you: "What the- Y/n? Is that really you? Oh god what have you done! Why are you in here? Are you hurt? Here let me help you dear" he got you dressed and picked you up, you could hear the hurt in his voice as he murmured you comforting words and whys: "I am sorry, I didn't know what I was thinking. I missed you Luci, I missed you so much I just wanted to see you again" you cried to him. He replied: "Please don't apologize, there is nothing for you to be sorry about. I am just glad you are with me again, I missed you so much, you know?Don't worry sweetheart, me and my wife will take care of you, we will teach you all about this place. Oh there is so many things I have to tell you! Lilith will be super happy knowing she can finally put a face to the name, she always wanted to know you!"

Right....Lilith

It took you a lot to adjust to the situation, and Lucifer and Lilith being all lovey dovey didn't help you one bit. You were forced to see them togheter, you lived with them after all. It isn't that you had any place to go other then his castle. You enjoyed living in there, and you savored all the alone moments you had with him, but oh it hurt you so much, but if you really loved him, you'd let him go, so you kept staying with them as your heart broke and shatteted more, the longer you were with them. The thing you didn't know though is that you weren't the only one suffering from all of this .

Lucifer's pov

As he brought his friends to his castle, his heart was flooded with a torrent of emotions, absorbing his every being. The flames of love once felt for her burnt with a passion he never felt before in his life, peraphs that flame never extinguished. As y/n lived there, his life had changed in an unimaginable way, as he lived in a never ending desperation. A desperation born from the knowing that his heart belonged eternally to his wife, but every quick glances, every alone time spent with y/n, served as a poignant reminder of his unceasing adoration for you. Yet, in the depths of his agony, he found solace in the the devotion and trust he vowed to always give to his wife, that he would never betray her, not when she lived an oh so happy life with him by his side. There was no other choice, he must let you go.

Y/n's pov

The more you learnt about hell the more you felt confident navigating it's depths of your own. You began forming a sense of identity, you started to know yourself, something you were never permitted to do in Eden, you even dared to cut your beautiful, long hair. You didn't like them, they held too many harrowing memories you needed to let go of. Your free spirit was finally able to show itself, the decisive step happened when you decided to leave his castle for good. The agony you felt seeing them togheter becoming unbearable to you. You ventured into the steppes of hell, explored all you had to see, seeked every secret of it. Your hunting never stopping, as the inferno kept increasing in size. The more it got bigger, the more you wanted more, you soon got hungry for it, and you ate all your discoveries. You didn't have a home, you'd rather sleep and get food from the people of this place, also making the usual visit to Lucifer and Lilith. It didn't take long for the demons to get used to you, you also managed to make a few friends. Only a select few knew your real name, the majority of people simply called you

The Passenger.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #fem!reader #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar #lucifer x reader #hazbin lucifer #lucifer morningstar x reader

[sinner-sunflower]

A HH Lucifer-centric AU 16/?

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10, PART 11, PART 12, PART 13, PART 14, PART 15, PART 17, PART 18, PART 19, PART 20, PART 21, PART 22

Hotel reaction 2 electric boogaloo

still deciding whether i'll post tomorrow

------------------------------------------

4 hours later, despite the arrival of Lucifer and the mystery woman, there is barely no progress. Charlie and the others were so hopeful the first few times because it did look like the extra power was doing something. But every time they make a dent, it bites back even worse.

They flinch as another Goetia fell, prompting the Prince of Lust to call for a retreat from her dad.

Lucifer: No! We can't afford to lose a Ring.

Cherri: They are clearly exhausted.

Angel: Yeah. One day won't be tha bad, right toots?

Charlie: Umm, I don't think so. Hell's rings are a complicated. They aren't just places, it's a system. Losing one will inevitably cause the others to fall apart.

Husk: I guess his majesty doesn't want us backed to a corner. If they let Sloth be consumed then who knows how bigger the problem would get.

Vaggie: He's right. The best solution is dealing with it at the literal root. They can theoretically recoup but by the looks of things, Sloth has little to no time left.

Husk: Mhhm. The constant ritual might be the only thing keeping it alive. The ring is basically on life support.

Lucifer: Goodie! Goodie: I cannot give more of something I do not have, angel. I warned you that my support alone will most likely not stop this. Lucifer: We should at least be denting it!

They quickly covered their ears as the TV let out a sound so ear-piercing that it feels like their head is splitting in half.

Angel: What the fuck???

Looking up despite the pain, they see that giant roots sprout from the ground. It went up and up until it reached Lucifer's pentagram in the sky.

Husk: Is that a fuckin' tree?

Charlie is transfixed on the image. She has lived in Hell all her life but this is the first time she had felt dread from something that came from her home.

'This is not of Hell.' She thought. It makes her sick. But her stupor was cut short as a new voice cuts through the footage.

Leviathan: Luci! Your marks!

Charlie looks in equal horror as her Uncle Leviathan when she saw the state her dad was in. The marks on his body have now almost consumed his whole face. She lets out a sob as Lucifer held up the mirror Alastor provided to inspect his condition.

No one spoke as he does this. Then after a moment, Charlie saw something in her dad's eyes.

Lucifer: Goodie. What do I need to do?

Charlie was about to say her confusion out loud when the lady, Goodie, blew a piece of paper onto the King's skin.

Goodie: This might be the only way to stop my sister. That is an ancient seal from before the Nothing- strong enough to render God and beings like Roo weak. Satan: Huh?! Then why didn't you just let us use that from the start??

Cherri: Yeah! The shit??

Husk: I don't like this.

Charlie shares the same sentiment. Whatever is happening, she has a bad feeling.

Goodie: Because there is a condition. Lucifer: And what's that? Goodie: It must be performed from the inside. It needs to be as close as possible to the one you are sealing. The hold will be stronger with proximity. And with you being the highest power here... Belphegor: Then that means-!

Nononononono, please don't. Please don't let it be what I think it is. Please don't do it. Please dad. I love you. I miss you. Please don't leave me PLEASE-

Lucifer: I need to be the one to go in there.

Protests from the hotel residents and demons on the broadcast overlap with each other. Charlie's ears are ringing. Her chest is tight and it's getting harder and harder to breathe. She can feel someone's hand around her, probably attempting to ground her. Yup, definitely a coming panic attack.

Lucifer: Are you sure this will stop her?

She can vaguely hear someone, probably Vaggie, say something to her but it's all muffled. Charlie could only focus her hearing on the scene in the TV.

Dark spots are filling her vision and her breaths are erratic as her beating heart.

PLEASEPLEASEPLEASEDADPLEASENOTYOUDONTLEAVEMETOODADPLEASE

Goodie: You are the key, angel. It must be you.

Charlie's world turns to black as she collapses in the arms of her lover. And if her dad looked directly at the camera in hopes of meeting her gaze, well, she'll never know.

#hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin charlie #hazbin angel dust #hazbin husk #hazbin lilith #hazbin vaggie #hazbin nifty #hazbin cherri bomb #hazbin sir pentious #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel charlie #hazbin hotel vaggie #hazbin hotel niffty #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin hotel angel dust #hazbin hotel cherri bomb #hazbin hotel sir pentious #radioapple #alastor x lucifer #duckiedeer #lucifer x alastor #appleradio #alastor and lucifer #hazbin hotel fics #hazbin hotel fictive #hazbin hotel fictionkin #hazbin hotel fic recs

[fanby-fckry]

Thinking about UH3!Alastor’s feelings on cheating and adultery.

Content Warning: implications of period-typical racism for the late 1800’s and early 1900’s, brief mention of saneism/ableism

…

Alastor was born out of wedlock. Mainly because interracial marriage was illegal; his father was white and his mother was not.

His father eventually got married to a white woman Alastor has never met, and as far as Alastor is concerned, she’s the other woman. His mother was there first. It doesn’t matter that his parents weren’t married; the unfaithfulness was committed with his father’s new wife, against his mother, and not the other way around. (And honestly, he’s right.)

Meanwhile, his mother likely felt ashamed anyway, and I think he picked up on that. I think he hates his father – for many reasons, and this is one of them – and his step mother, and their perfect little family built on secrets and lies.

And then the Morningstars come along.

Because remember, when Lucifer first starts hitting on Alastor, he has no idea Lilith is in on it. He assumes, up until Bloodlust and Butterflies Chapter 6: The Pride Before, that Lilith doesn’t even know, and up until Metamours, he’s still somewhat convinced that it’s an open secret that Lilith tolerates the way his mother and stepmother did – each vaguely aware of the other’s existence, with neither being too happy about it.

What I’m saying is, Alastor spent SEVEN YEARS thinking he was Lucifer’s affair partner. Or at least that he was playing at being one, when he was still messing with Lucifer during the 6 year failed seduction.

He spent 7 years putting mental distance between himself and Lilith, because if he thought about her too much, he’d run the risk of comparing himself to the woman who stole his father from his mother. (He didn’t even like his father, but it’s the fucking principle of the thing!)

And Charlie adds a whole other layer to things.

Charlie is an only child. Just like Alastor (not including potential half-siblings he never met; I haven’t decided whether or not his father had other kids, but his mother never did).

If Alastor had been Lucifer’s affair partner – as he assumed he was for 7 years – he would’ve not only been stealing Lucifer away from Lilith, but stealing him away from Charlie.

I don’t know if he would’ve felt remorseful, exactly – remorse is a complicated emotion for Alastor, and one he very rarely experiences – but I think it would’ve been devastating all the same if he dwelled on it long enough.

All that anger and hatred he felt for his father and stepmother would be reflected back on himself. His ego would take a huge hit, which – if you’re not familiar with the realities of NPD vs the ableist armchair psych version – could lead him down a self destructive spiral because that’s his coping mechanism, that’s his shield.

So he couldn’t allow himself to think about Lilith or about Charlie. Even more than he couldn’t think about his feelings for Lucifer, he could not under any circumstances think about what that would mean for Lilith and Charlie.

I mean, it’s no wonder he reacted the way he did at the prospect of being under the same roof as them:

A record scratch played from behind Alastor’s head and static hung over his words as he spoke, “At the palace? Where your wife and daughter live?”

“Yes, well Charlie will be out with her friends, so we-”

“And now I’m questioning your sanity,” Alastor snapped, cutting Lucifer short. “Because that still leaves the matter of your wife. I can't imagine she'd be all jakealoo seeing her husband in a romantic setting with another man!”

Hey, how many times do you think Alastor had to consciously ignore Lucifer’s wedding ring?

Mans didn’t take it off when his wife left him in canon; there’s no way it came off during Lilith-sanctioned rendezvous while they’re still happily married. (The Lucilith divorce is NOT canon in UH3.)

Lucifer wouldn’t think anything of it – he’s not doing anything unfaithful; he’s not going against Lilith’s wishes; he has no reason to feel guilty or conflicted about wearing it – but to Alastor, it’s a symbol of the union he’s intruding on.

Gods, I wanna write this so bad. I have so many stories I want to tell in this universe.

#fanby’s fuckery #fanby: uhverse #fanby: uh3 #fanby: bloodlust & butterflies #fanby: metamours #uh: alastor #uh: lucifer #uh: lilith #uh: charlie #uh: radioapple #uh: radiosin #uh: lucilith #hazbin hotel #alastor #lucifer hazbin hotel #lilith hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #radioapple #radioapplesiren #lucilith

[talesfromawannabejournalist]

History rewritten

"Once upon a time, there lived a glowing city protected by golden gates known as Heaven. It was a city that was inhabited by beings of pure light and goodness who maintained evil and worshipped all good. One of these angels was called Lucifer. He was a dreamer with fantastical ideas for all of creation, and beloved by many of his brothers and sisters, especially his father. However, he was seen as a troublemaker by the elders for they believed his ideas were dangerous to their order. So, he was forced to sit and watch as the elder angels began to expand the universe in their ways.

From the very dust that came from the planet called Earth, they created Adam and Lilith. From the moment they opened their eyes, they were told that they were made for each other. To be by each other side through thick and thin, through the good and bad times, until death do, they part. Unfortunately, the first two humans couldn't be more incompatible than they were. Lilith was headstrong and fiercely independent while Adam was incredibly loyal to Heaven and simply wanted to make them happy. However, they both had one thing in common, they both wanted respect and love.

They simply couldn't get that from either.

And it was like that until one day when everything changed. Lucifer had come into the gardens curious about the new humans. When he came across the first man, he couldn't believe what he was before his very eyes. A beautiful human crying his eyes out by a pond. Drawn in by the captivating creature Lucifer comforted him and the two spent their days in Eden falling deeply in love.

One day in the Garden Lucifer decided that on that day he wanted Adam to know what true free will was like. So, he offered the fruit of knowledge as a gift to him, which Adam gladly accepted. However, this gift came with a curse. For with this single act of disobedience, sin had entered the world with it a new era of evil came with it. And the order Heaven tried to maintain was shattered. As the angels came down to punish Lucifer but Adam stepped in and told them that if they were going to punish his love then he demanded that he be given the same punishment.

With heavy hearts, they did as Adam wanted and cast him and Lucifer into the dark pit that was created by the reckless act. Never allowing either of them to see the good that came from free will only the cruel and the wicked. That did not dismay the couple in fact it only brought them closer, while Lucifer lost his will to even have that dream, he had found a new one in his family. For soon after they established their home, they were blessed with a baby boy, Cain. and then soon after their son Able, and then finally a baby girl named Charlotte. Lucifer focused all his being into keeping them safe and happy.

As for Adam, he thrived as the Queen of their kingdom empowering any and all demons with his voice and his music, and as Hell's population grew so did its power. Adam's hope still remains to this day and hopes that his dream will one day be passed on to all of his children."

Adam closed the book he was reading to his daughter, saw her tired expression, and chuckled before getting off the bed, placing the book on the nightstand, and tucking her in. As he kissed Charlie goodnight his daughter asked him,

"Mama, what happened to Lilith?"

Adam paused and thought about what to say to his little one who was giving a sleepy questioning look with her adorable curious eyes. He sighed and said.

"I honestly don't know Hun, but from my understanding, Lilith eventually died and was placed in Heaven. Or at least that's my conclusion since we've never seen her down here."

Adam shakes his head before giving his daughter a comforting smile and continuing, "It's best not to think about it, now get to sleep, my little princess." Adam gives her one last kiss before turning off the lights and heading out of her room. Closing the door, he turns and sees his husband leaning against the wall with a contemplated look. As he stared at the other side of the walls. Adam cleared his throat and Lucifer looked at him before giving a shaky smile.

"Hey, honey I just came in to kiss Char-Char goodnight. Sorry I couldn't be there for story time, but paperwork can truly be a bitch to deal with ha-ha."

"Are you ok?" Adam asked while raising an eyebrow. Lucifer tried to reassure his queen but only sighed as he looked away, guilt eating at his insides like a parasite.

"I, I heard the story you told Charlie, I heard everything, and I... (sighs) You know that's not how it exactly went right?" "Yes, but I don't plan on ever telling them the truth, the full truth, because even though you were a selfish asshole then doesn't mean you're that same person now." Adam gives Lucifer a small smile before placing a hand on his cheek and turning his face gently towards him. "Now you are the gentle and kind father and husband who'd do anything for his family, including saying goodnight to our daughter quickly so he can give his queen a goodnight kiss as well" Adam winked before turning and walking away to their bedroom.

Lucifer smiles at the retreating form of the human-turned-demon and quietly makes his way into his daughter's room. he tiptoed toward Charlie who was fast asleep. Bending down he gave his little light a loving fatherly look while gently petting the top of her head. "I'm so thankful that you are my daughter more than anything Charlie. That goes the same for your brothers, and the same for your mother, I'm thankful for this family more than anything, and I'll do anything to protect this family through whatever means necessary." Lucifer said his voice barely above a whisper. Conjuring up one of Charlie's many stuffed animals he places it right in his daughter's arms causing her to subconsciously smile and hug the toy tightly. Lucifer stood up and with one last look teleported his way to his bedroom where his queen waited patiently for his arrival.

#hazbin hotel #Building a garden AU #adamsapple #charlie morningstar #mpreg #mpreg mentioned #kid charlie

[nocreativityfornames]

When Solomon Is The Only One To Never Forget About MC's Blindness

This was my first time getting submitted a request that didn't came from the ask box and it confused me a bit because I didn't know how it worked but hey, here it is! Also, the type of blindness wasn't specified, so I just went in with total blindness in mind? Anyway, thanks for the request!

Lucifer

➺ Now, usually he's very attentive to MC's condition and is always making accommodations for them. Sometimes though, he still lets it slip.

➺ Today was one of those days, Lucifer, MC, and Solomon were working on a class project together, and without thinking, the eldest asked MC for the pen near their side of the table.

➺ The realization hit when Solomon called out his name, making him look up from his papers and at the situation at hand.

➺ Lucifer cleared his throat, trying not to make his embarrassment visible. "My apologies, that was careless of me." He grabs the pen himself, failing to hide his blush as Solomon chuckles and MC smiles, finding amusement in what had happened.

➺ Damn sorcerer, giving him more reasons to hate him... ( he's so bitter )

Mammon

➺ As much as I love Mammon, I have to be honest, he'd probably be one forgetting it the most. It's in the most harmless moments though, so it's not much of a bother.

➺ This time MC was in the living room, discussing something with Solomon and Satan. Mid-conversation, Mammon slammed the door open, excitement clear in his face as he threw the newest edition of a fashion magazine on the table in front of MC.

➺ "Look who's on the front cover of the Devildom's most famous magazine, yer first man Mammon!"

➺ He was met with awkward silence and immediately realized his mistake upon looking at everyone's faces. Fuck, he did it again.

➺ Immediately goes beet red while everyone laughs. No matter how many times it happens, it never gets less embarrassing...

Leviathan

➺ He clowns on Mammon for forgetting about MC's blindness all the time, but has had plenty of embarrassing moments where he did the same thing too.

➺ "And this is the character!" He has a big smile on his face as he shows MC the screen of his phone, presenting them with the character in question.

➺ Cue him freezing in place as he's met with a little chuckle from MC. He wants to die from embarrassment, to melt away and disappear from existence completely. Why????

➺ "A-Ahaha, sorry for that...!" He looks away trying to hide his face and the sorcerer, who was there beside him the entire time, can't help but let out a laugh.

➺ "Pff, why are you hiding your face? MC can't see you!" Solomon, stop, you're killing him!

Satan

➺ Out of the brothers he's the one who tends to forget it the least, still, it happens sometimes.

➺ The first time is when he comes back from the kitchen to his room, and finds Solomon and MC there. Solomon, who at the moment, was flipping through a very old family album with embarrassing baby pictures that Satan had no wish to let anyone see.

➺ "Don't show that to MC!" He's exclaims louder than intended, his face burning red.

➺ And he gets even redder when he realizes. Fuck, Solomon is not letting him live this down, is he?

➺ "I don't think you need to worry about that." Solomon grins at him teasingly. This man should be thankful that he's immortal, otherwise...

Asmodeus

➺ The three of them are out shipping, and Asmo finds himself in a dilemma, unsure of what clothes to buy for MC.

➺ "Ooh, what's your favorite color? That'll make it easier to pick!" Asmo glances at MC expectantly, smiling at them.

➺ ......

➺ "MC doesn't have a favorite color, Asmo." Solomon answers with a polite smile. He's still confused. "They can't see the colors, Asmo..."

➺ Oh! "Whoops! Right, so sorry hun!" He laughs it off, finding the situation funny himself. He's probably one of the only ones who don't get embarrassed about it.

Beelzebub & Belphegor

➺ It's rare that these two ever forget about MC's blindness. It happens though when they're at Hell's Kitchen with MC and Solomon.

➺ After picking what he wants to order, Belphie mindlessly passes the menu to MC and goes to lay his head on the table, yawning.

➺ It's that moment of comical silence again, and MC and Solomon exchange a glance, both holding back laughs. "Belphie..."

➺ The Avatar of Sloth lifts his head to look at the others. "Oh, sorry MC... I didn't mean to do that." He smiles at them apologetically but sends Solomon a glare as soon as they look away from him.

➺ "Here, I'll read it for you." Beel kindly offers, taking the menu from MC's hands. He doesn't really get bothered with Solomon, much like Asmo.

Solomon

➺ The only one who never forgets, and who teases the others to oblivion when they do. Oh, it makes them so bitter, specially when Solomon brags about it.

➺ He's such a gentleman with MC, and is always taking precautions to make their stay in the Devildom easier. And he's so very glad that they are this comfortable relying on him, after all, he truly loves them.

➺ That closeness he has with MC though? The warm smiles and sincere "thank you"s he receives from them whenever he's helping them with something they can't do on their own? Yeah, they only make the others jealous, so terribly jealous.

➺ Solomon lives for it though, sending the others knowing grins every chance he gets.

#submission #I hope it wasn't too repetitive? #obey me #omnb #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me solomon #☙ no creativity for names ✾

[whbfan]

The Two Stars That Fell From the Sky | Part 2/6

Lucifer’s pupils which were so big that they almost filled his eyes surveyed the boy’s features.

Lucifer: …..?

Lucifer stared at the boy’s face in his field of vision for a moment in a daze, and then realized that the boy in his field of vision was looking down at him, close enough for their noses to touch.

The tip of Lucifer’s nose caught a whiff of the boy’s healthy, fresh body odor, and the scent of blood and medicine mixed with it made him instinctively tense.

???: Huh—! You can’t strain your body yet! Every single bone in your body is broken…!

As the boy gasped and shimmed back, Lucifer slid his gaze down to look at his body.

His body was full of splits, bandages, and medicine. He didn’t need to ask who did it.

Lucifer: Get lost… Don’t bother.

The cold voice was lifeless, like someone who had just crawled out of the netherworld, but strangely sensual.

Having lost the will to live, he found everything cumbersome, The boy’s efforts were admirable, but he didn’t want to say or think of anything.

???: ………!!!

The boy’s eyes sparkled and a rosy glow appeared on his handsome cheeks at Lucifer’s cold words.

???: Your voice…!! It’s so cool….!!!

Lucifer: ……….

When the boy made a fuss and shouted, the staff tied to his back tinkled frantically.

Lucifer frowned. He was languid and weary, and the presence of the boy beside him was too much.

But it wasn’t hard dismissing the boy. All he had to do was tell him ‘the truth’.

???: Aren’t you thirsty? Shall I give you something to drink? Oh, you should loosen your body and—

Lucifer: Everything you’ve done is for naught. As long as I’m in Hell, my wounds won’t heal.

???: Eek— why?!

Lucifer: Because I’m an angel.

It was ridiculous to say that when he had neither wings nor halos, but now that he had said it was useless, he hoped the young creature beside him would go away.

???: Yes, I know.

Said the boy, then ran off with the tinkling of bells, and soon returned with the same sound.

White large feathers that were still bloodstained were still in his hands.

???: I’m sorry… Some of it came off while I treated you. You have gotten better in other places, but this wound won’t heal so I can’t stop the bleeding…

Moreover, the boy looked tearful like it made him upset.

???: You’re saying it’s slow to heal in Hell because you’re an angel, right? That’s a shame… I hope you get better soon.

When the boy sighed, the staff on his back seemed to tinkle in agreement.

Lucifer: (That’s…)

Lucifer stared at the round gem at the end of the boy’s staff.

Looking back at Lucifer who was quietly staring in his direction, the boy gave a stare and hastily brought a wet towel.

???: It’s time to wipe your body. It’s gonna hurt a little when it touches your wounds since you’re awake, but endure…

Lucifer: You’re a pain. Get lost.

Lucifer glared at the boy, his large pupils filled with hostility.

It would have made perfect sense if he replied with ‘That bed you’re lying in, those sheets you’re under—they’re all mine!’

???: Mmm. I was going to go out tomorrow to get food!

The boy didn’t succumb to Lucifer’s cold treatment and answered with a bright smile as cool as a dawn breeze.

???: It’s going to take some time since I’m getting food for two people, so I might not come home today.

The boy spoke with a shadowless face, not the least bit disgruntled.

???: I’ll be back tomorrow! Sleep some more!

After the boy left there was a sound of the front doors closing beyond the closed bedroom.

Lucifer finally close his eyes slowly in the silence.

Then, the scene he last saw before losing consciousness filled his view as though it had been waiting for him.

—

Lucifer: Our Father, who art in Heaven…

Crunch…!!

Lucifer’s sharp nails dug into the flesh and muscle of his back.

Lucifer: Hallowed be thy name…

Crack…!!

Lucifer’s bloody hand pulled out one of his wing bones and crushed it.

Lucifer: Thy kingdom come…

Riiip…!!

There was a bizarre sound as the tendons attached to the broken wingbone snapped, and finally a piece of wing attached to one shoulder detached completely from the body and fell away.

When one of Lucifer’s twelve great wings fell away, the light began to disappear from his body.

He that hath no wings, shall not be able to set foot in Heaven.

Even so, Lucifer didn’t stop praying or harming himself.

Lucifer: Forgive us our sins…

Lucifer: And lead us not into temptation…

Lucifer: But deliver us from evil…

As the prayer continued, his wings fell to the ground.

The fallen wings sank as they hit the ground, passing right through the ground, as if to show that they didn’t belong in Heaven.

Lucifer: For thine is the kingdom,

Lucifer: The power and the glory,

Lucifer: For ever and ever…!!!

As Lucifer finished praying and ripped his last wing off…

Flash—!

The area which had always been daylight thanks to Lucifer’s halo was suddenly plunged into darkness.

The moment his last, twelfth wing fell from him, Lucifer felt the terrifying sensation he had never felt before, if his halo disappearing.

With that, his body began to sink.

That was how Lucifer fell.

Leaving behind his brothers reaching out desperately as he receded—leaving behind the distraught Seraphim.

—

The figures and voices of the weeping and raging Seraphim followed like a never-ending whirling dervish.

At some point, Lucifer was once again trapped in a world of darkness and unconsciousness.

Unconscious for the past week, he had to endure the pain over and over again in an unconscious state with no concept of time.

But he suddenly regained consciousness,

Lick–

Lucifer: ……….!

With a familiar warmth.

It was the same then. It was this warmth that woke him up after endlessly being resented by the Seraphim.

When Lucifer opened his eyes with a start, the boy’s face that was much too close again filled his entire view.

Lucifer: (…Again.)

???: Oh! You’re up! Good timing. I cooked rice porridge so eat it while it’s hot—

Clang—!!

When the friendly boy came with a bowl of porridge on a tray, Lucifer swatted it away with his arm.

The flying tray smashed into the stone wall, and the house shook slightly.

The bowl shattered, grazing the body of the young creature in front of him, creating a gash and splattering the steaming remains of the porridge across his face.

Lucifer: I told you not to bother.

???: How can you move like that when you’re hurt!!

The boy yelped, cutting off Lucifer’s growl. Clink, clink!! The bells jingled. It was a sound that somehow made him feel better.

???: The bones in your arms haven’t mended yet!!

The boy seemed to have no learning ability, as he approached Lucifer like he forgot that he had refused his favor yesterday and had just thrown his porridge bowl.

The boy gently touched the loose splinted arm with a worried look on his face.

The bell jingled once, followed by a bright flash of light from the orb at the end of the boy’s staff.

The light flowed down the boy’s fingertips to sink into Lucifer’s arm.

The red, swollen flesh settled, the broken bones healed, and the arm that had been splinted straightened.

???: Huh….? Huhhh….?! The bones… mended…?!

The boy looked confused although he was the one who did it, and rejoiced.

???: Huh? It feels like the orb is brighter…

Lucifer narrowed his eyes at the boy holding his staff with one hand and studying the orb at its tip.

Lucifer: …A dragon who doesn’t know how to use a magic pearl. It’s proof he’s alive.

When Lucifer muttered and strained his better arm to raise his upper body, the boy who had been studying the orb with a frown, lifted his head and met Lucifer’s gaze with gleaming eyes.

Lucifer thought the boy would make another fuss and say ‘Do you remember me?!’, but he smiled with the most mature look in his eyes that Lucifer had seen so far.

???: Yes, I wanted to thank you… and I was surprised when you fell here.

Lucifer looked at the vertically slit pupils staring back at him and remembered the first time he had seen them.

—

The war between Heaven and the Dragons.

It was more ambush and invasion or slaughter and carnage than war.

In the hands of the angel who tore through the dimension, the little dragon was held hostage by his throat, and all the dragons died before the angel without protest.

A single dragon was the size of a mountain, so when the majority of the dragons became composes and piled up, it became a giant mountain range of corpses.

And at the end of that mountain range, the last of the dragons stood before him, bloodied but undiminished in spirit, as he stared at Michael and his legion.

The dragon’s eyes were deeper than the others, and its scales were wrinkled with age.

Elder Dragon: From an interdimensional being… I have heard of you… Of brothers with the same father… Of angels slaying devils in the same world with your own hands…

The old dragon coughed blood. The blood dyed the dragon’s white beard. There were already more than a thousand spears of light in his stomach.

Michael was glaring at him squarely with both eyes.

#the two stars that fell from the sky #note: some dialogues were fixed or changed to be more accurate #whb #what in hell is bad #whb gamigin #whb lucifer #whb spoilers #whb event #what in ‘hell’ is bad

[androgynousblackbox]

How I Met Your Father. 2 [Appleradio, Radioapple, Chaggie]

Vaggie came out from their closet holding two dreses. Charlie counted these as the fifth dress that her girlfriend had brought to her to hear about her opinion, but she wasn't about to comment on that. It was kinda cute seeing her fretting over trying to find the right one. On her humble opinion she already looked amazing in all of them anyway.

"Okay, which one of these says 'I am a good partner to your daughter and I also respect your home and your husband, who I am very sorry for pointing a spear to'? This one I think says 'I am trustworthy and responsible', but maybe the skirt is too long and it will be too strict? And this one look cute, but maybe the sleeves are too long? What do you think? What if it gest messy with the food and I don't realize it?"

"Mmm" Charlie rested on her bed, where her own outfit had already being chosen, chin on her hands as she moved her hooves as if really was thinking it over. "I like the second one. The long sleeves make you look elegant and kinda mysterious."

"Yeah? You think so?" Vaggie modeled the dress in front of her mirror. extending the sleeves over her naked arm. "Well… it is comfy."

"Comfy is important" encouraged Charlie and then gasped. "You could use that cute black chocker I bought you last week! It would look so cute!"

"Wear something you gave me would show my commitment to our relationship! Good thinking!" Vaggie's eyes illuminated at the brilliant suggestion and Charlie could not hold it any longer, letting out her laugh. Vaggie blushed, suddenly self unconscious. "W-what?"

"Sorry, sorry, I didn't mean to. It's just… You are treating this like some kind of strategy for war" commented Charlie, sitting upright at the side of their bed and patting her side for Vaggie to come in. When her girlfriend came in, Charlie hugged her by the shoulder. "There is no war anywhere, sweetie. I understand you probably never did anything like this before, with your previous job and all…"

Vaggie's face paled at the mention. She was so thankful that Charlie had found her so quickly after loosing her wings, right before Lute took off, because she frankly had no clue of how she would ever be able to tell her girlfriend she had contributed to the problem they were trying to solve one. It had been years since then, but she still felt sick everytime the topic came up.

"But you don't need to treat it the same" continue Charlie gently, rubbing her shoulder. Her hand caressed softly the scars on her back, fully healed now and now just a bit sensitive for Vaggie. "My parents will love you regardless of what you wear. Well, dad may take a while warming up, but that is just how he is, don't take it personally. My papa is a lot more easygoing and won't care. And in the very rare case that he doesn't like you, which he will, I will still like you the most so it doesn't matter."

Vaggie relaxed against her, trying to clear her head.

"I know, I have been silly."

"I like you silly."

Vaggie smiled, nuzzling Charlie's neck as one of her arms hugged her waist.

"It's just… You don't really meet the king of hell himself everyday. The big scary Lucifer that we all heard about all the time as a cautionary tale."

Charlie snorted, covering her mouth.

"Is that really what they think in heaven? Babe, that is just legends at this point. I promise you, papa is literally the least scary guy in all of hell" She kissed Vaggie's cheek, nuzzling her back. "Come on. I really think the chocker will look really nice with this."

Vaggie nodded, finally dressing up with the dress of the long sleeves. Charlie had a white shirt on top of black pants, casually going along with the grey dark blue dress of Vaggie. Even after they were both done dressing up and fixing their hair, they had some free time to tell Husk to call Charlie's number if anything happened before a portal opened up in the living room of the first floor.

Granted, leaving the hotel at the hands of the cat man that lived perpetually drunk wasn't the wisest of choices, but between Niffty and Angel, who was out working, they didn't had a lot of options. Husk at least seemed sober enough to tell them to have a good night before going continueing to clean some glasses.

"We will be back" assured Charlie, taking the hand of Vaggie and giving her a bright smile as they passed through.

Once they did, that was it. They were in the old palace. Vaggie thought it was beautiful and she wanted to comment on that when suddenly a voice paralized her in place.

"CHARLIE!" Before a tiny man (well, tiny for general standards, he was actually her same height) came crashing against Charlie to squeeze her on a bear hug that took the air out of her. "MY BABY! IT'S SO GOOD TO SEE YOU, I MISSED YOU SO MUCH!"

"Papa…" struggled to say Charlie, smiling down at him. "I am happy to see you too. I can't breath."

"Oh, sorry, my bad" the man laughed, finally letting her go, but still looking up with the same look of adoration from before. "Sorry, I just missed you so much and oh" Only then the man seemed to notice Vaggie. He started to jump slightly in place, giggling to himself. "Is that…? Is she really…?"

Charlie nodded, now she being to one to beam with pride.

"Papa, I present to you Vaggie, my girlfriend. Vaggie, this is my papa, Lucifer Morningstar."

"Oh, she can call me Luci or whatever she wants!" declared Lucifer, now crushing Vaggie on a new hug. Vaggie was shocked not by how strong it was, which it was still a lot, but how obviously contained it was. "You are so much prettier than Alastor said you were! Oh, not that he said you were ugly or anything, that is not what I mean! I mean, I can see why you are togehter. Wait, no, thar sounds weird, doesn't it? I didn't say that is all about appearences or something! Unless it is, then who I am to judge? Young love and all that I say!"

"Papa" groaned Charlie, covering her eyes with a hand.

When she managed to breath again, Vaggie had to laugh a little over the fretting. The familiar fretting that she could recognize in Charlie too. Besides the height and other details that were from Alastor, there was no doubt that they were father and daughter.

"Thank you, sir" said sincerely, understanding that he was trying to be welcoming, accepting and flexible all at the same time. It was a lot more than what she expected so she would take it happily. "Thanks for having me over. Your house is beautiful."

The smile of Lucifer could have illuminated a whole universe. She felt like her previous nerve were flushing away in his presence. Charlie was right, there was nothing scary about him. Another lie from Heaven for the tally.

"You are most welcome, Vaggie. Alastor is just about to finish dinner, why don't you come with me?" said the king of hell, offering his arm up for Charlie to take as they walked over to the dinning room, a huge place with a long table covered in warm tones.

At the center of the table there was a beautiful bouquet of hellish flowers that uselessly tried to chomp at them when passing. As a true gentleman, Lucifer pulled out the chair for the both of them, sitting side to side in the table.

"Darling, I heard you embarassing our daughter" came the voice of Alastor from a radio on top of the chimney beyond the head of the table. "If you are done with that, would you mind taking out the drinks from the freezer and start serving while I finish the meat?"

A gold dusted blush extended through Lucifer's face. He gave a awkward laugh and excused himself to bring the drinks, but they could still hear him replying "I wasn't embarassing her, I was trying to socialize, jeez" as he went down the hallway.

"Now you see why I didn't bring you earlier" joked Charlie, playing with a napkin on her hands. "Don't get me wrong, I love papa, he is the best! But he can be a bit…" she made a vague gesture with her hand, not knowing how to finish the sentence. "It's not his fault, he just… doesn't get outside a lot."

"It's okay" Vaggie put her hand on top of Charlie's on the table. Awkward or not, she could still see very clearly that her girlfriend had nothing but affection for the king. "I have no real frame of reference for parents, so as far I am concerned, this is the best dinner with parents ever already."

"Oh, and you still haven't tasted dad's food! He is the best in the kitchen."

"Years and years of practice!" commented Lucifer, a line of buckets full of ice and bottles following him behind and softly landing on the table. "You wouldn't even know that man used to eat raw carcasses of road kill for breakfast. Don't even get me started in the smell that it would leave in my kitchen" Lucifer opened up one of the bottles and started serving for Charlie, holding the bottle from the bottom like a experienced waiter. "Don't worry, these are all non alcoholic because I know my baby girl likes it that way. Vaggie, you are not driving tonight so you can pick your poison freely. No judgement here. I will be having some wine and Alastor probably will want his brandy after dinner."

"I will have the same as Charlie" That seemed the easiest choice. She wasn't good with her alcohol to the point she legitimately could not understand why people got addicted to it.

"As you wish" Lucifer served her with ease and then opened up another bottle, filling up his own glass as he sat at the head of the table. "Sooo… Alastor told me about what happened on TV. I am so sorry. Do you want me to leave that mean reporter homeless, sweetie?"

The suggestion was left out so casually that Charlie almost dropped her glass before taking the first zip.

"Papa!"

"What? I can do that. I don't know if you knew this, sweetheart, but I am kind of the king here. I could get her replaced and blacklisted with a few calls. You just say the word and it's done" Lucifer finished his statement taking a zip, just as he had just declared going to the market or something as mundane at that.

Charlie was so stunned that for a moment she didn't know what to say.

"Well, she was a homophobic bitch" commented Vaggie to her own glass, making Charlie to now turn on her.

"Vaggie!"

"She was" Vaggie shrugged. "The world wouldn't be worse off either."

"Yeah, see? I like her, she gets it."

Vaggie drank her drink to try to hide how much the approval of the man made her happy. King or not, he was first and foremost Charlie's father. And honestly, she couldn't find it on herself to feel very compassionate towards the woman who quite literally laughed at her girlfriend and made a mockery out of her in teleivision. Fuck her.

"I can't believe the both of you! No, I don't want to make someone homeless just because of a bad experience!"

Vaggie smiled to her. She knew Charlie would say that, that is why she loved her.

"Sweetheart, she fist fight you. She put her hands on you. I barely managed to stop Alastor from making her into our next meal."

"Why would I want that either?!"

"Oh, no, that would have been for his satisfaction. But hopefully would have send a message not to mess with my daughter."

"Papa, no."

Lucifer sighed deeply, dramatically.

"As my duckling commands, so I obey" declared, rising his glass. "You will live another day, mean reporter who was also apparently homophobic."

Charlie rolled her eyes at the display and Vaggie chuckled a bit. She definitely could get used to this dynamic. It was nice seeing other people besides herself that were concerned with protecting Charlie.

"Well, since I am not abusing my power right now" commented Lucifer, offering a conciliatory smile to his daughter, "how about you tell me about those renovations that Alastor has been making at your hotel? Don't tell the guy" added in a conspiratorial tone, "but he really, really suck at interior design so I can only imagine what he did."

"For your information, your Majesty" said Alastor, bringing a huge tray that had to be carried by his tentacles, still covered with mittens for protection. Other tentacles were bringing the rest of the food behind him. " ended up being a rather impressive building. If it doesn't attract all the eyes of the needy souls in hell, I don't know what will."

"Yeah, that doesn't sound as flattering as you think, babe" commented Lucifer, standing up briefly to move a chair for Alastor. Alastor nodded in recognition for the gesture and Lucifer let a hand rub the back of the man briefly before sitting again. "A neon sign is also going to attract looks no matter how ugly it is."

"Well, when you come visit, you can have an opinion on it's decor" declared Alastor, lifting the cover of the tray and taking on the collective admiration for the frankly delicious looking piece of meat.

"What is it, dad?" asked Charlie tentatively, almost as she didn't even want to know.

"We are in the presence of company, my dear, so of course is venison" said Alastor, receiving the big knifes from the hands of Lucifer to give the first cut. "The cannibal meat is for especial ocassions, you know that. It becomes dull if you eat it all the time."

"He is joking, right?" commented Vaggie, looking for confirmation on Charlie's face, but all she could give her was a evasive smile.

"Listen, don't knock it until you try it" commented Lucifer. "I was a squeamish at first too, so I get it, but as long you don't use angelic steel the sinners can be cut indefintely, so it's not like people actually die from it. Some even offer themselves up to be cut. It's a whole thing. And Alastor makes it taste good all the same so I can't complain."

"Why, thank you, darling" Alastor served a big piece to the plate of Lucifer and kissed the top of his head.

"Just so we are clear, I haven't eaten it again since knowing that is what it was" said Charlie, clearly uncomfortable.

"I don't mind" said Vaggie, earning a surprised look from her girlfriend. "I mean, I don't want to think about it, but it's like with every other meat, right? And if people aren't dying from it, I don't know, it could be worse. Out of every horrible thing people do to each other in hell, at least that could be consentual."

Besides, given that her previous "job" was actually killing people, she didn't really feel able to be judging so harashly.

"Ah, that is the most intelligent thing I heard from you" said Alistor, now serving her another generous portion. Every portion had to be generous to count for the amount of meat there was.

"But I still don't think I want to try it."

"And the intelligence is gone."

"Dad."

"I am kidding, my fawn, I am kidding" Alastor chuckled, serving himself last and only then sitting down as Lucifer filled his glass. "Thank you, dear."

Besides finding out that her girlfriend have been an unwilling cannibal and the king of hell was a willing one, the rest of their conversation was light and pleasant over the delicious meal that everyone praised, for Alastor's delight.

"Oh, oh, oh!" said Charlie, suddenly attacked by a new idea. "How about when we finish do we bring the family pictures? I have so very little of them at home."

"The baby pictures?" suggested Lucifer, turning his head to Alastor with a smile at the corner of his lips.

Charlie applauded.

"Oh, and can you both tell the story of how I was made? I love that one."

"You never get tired of those stories, don't you, dear?" said Alastor, snapping his finger so all the empty plates fell into a black void and appeared again at the other side of the table, already pilled up. "Alright. I will bring the pictures. Lucifer, can you bring the dessert?"

"Sure thing" said, dissapearing on his own portal to the kitchen. It seemed that after a big meal like that one they felt lazy enough to rely more on their magic.

"They both tell it so well. I used to get to sleep to it all the time" commented Charlie, rubbing the arm of Vaggie. "I never told you either how I was made, right?"

"Magic and fairy dust I assumed" said Vaggie, only half jokingly, just when both parents came back.

The dessert was ice cream in enchanted cups that could change the flavor to whatever they wanted.

"Close, very close in fact" Lucifer sighed, leaving just a cup of coffe for Alastor when he came back, bringing an album with him. "Do you want to start, babe?"

"You can go this one chance, dear. I prefer to hear you tonight" Alastor took a zip of the coffe as Lucifer went looking on the album, going to the very start.

"Well, as Charlie knows, it took a long time for us to decide that we actually wanted a child. The idea of a heir is kinda pointless when you are essentially immortal and we had already decided to keep our marriage on the low, so I wasn't doing much to expand my last name already. Likewise, Alastor didn't want his last name there either in case someone connected it to him and try to use it as leverage.

"So if we wanted to have a kid, it would have to be just because we just really wanted a kid. To see them grow up, walk around and cry. We knew it wasn't going to be a breeze, because kids never are, but we resolved that we could do it. Love or resources weren't an issue. We had our own routine established already, but we were willing to make space for someone else there.

Once we put our minds to it, the next step was to decide the kind of child. I thought the obvious choice was adoption, since Alastor is a sinner and they can't normally reproduce, because it's "unnatural" or whatever. Some other dumb law of nature that I thought you just couldn't break. But I understimated the creativity of Alastor.

He made me know very clearly that he wanted to try to make our own kid, with our own markings if possible. If that didn't worked out, only then we would try adoption.

You see, I technically can create life already. You already know just by seeing Razzle, Dazzle or Keekee But neither of them can be considered truly an individual the same way that kids are. Razzle and Dazzle exist solely as Charlie's companions and protectors. Keekee exist solely to be the key to the hotel. They can't want anymore than that because they don't have the imagination, creativity, ambition or anything that makes each person go in search of their interests. They will never grew old or get sick. They will never have an original creative thought on their minds.

It sounds like I am dissing them, but I am not. It's just how they were meant to be, living objects for that one purpose that they will carry out with the simple joy of just doing a good job.

A kid is none of that. Sure, neither of us had that much experience with children, but we knew that at least. Not surprisingly at all, the one who gave free will to humanity thought it was important for our child to have it as well. We would raise them the best way we could and see them grow, like all parents do, only to be surprised for who they turned to be. We didn't want any of this if we couldn't have that pride of seeing our kid deciding their own way, even if it was separate from us.

And that was an issue right off the bat, because I really couldn't do that. I couldn't just create something out of nothing and gave it indepedent thought, no matter how hard I tried. With Adam and Eve it was easy because they were already living beings who just lacked awareness of themselves, so all I had to do was give it to them. Most of the work was already cut out for me, but this was different.

It was Alastor the one who suggested we started out with a dollie. Very small, but already containing the traits we wanted our child to have. That I could do no problem."

Lucifer showed off the very first picture in the album. In the middle of a large white bowl put on the floor, surrounded by a pentagram, laid a tiny figurine made of claw that almost looked like a painted bean.

"I made it all myself. I won't bore you with the details of how much or how long we talked about which traits of us we wanted to see realized, but I can tell you there was a lot of conversations about it. In the end we couldn't decide on eye colors, so we though eh, why not make our especial girl even more especial with eyes of each of her parents? Now of course she had to have Alastor's tail. I insisted on that" commented Lucifer, passing to the next picture where the figure that was already tiny had an even tinier triangle texturized to look like hair. "The red fingers, let me tell you, were a bitch to get in there and make it look right. Have you ever tried to give a fetus a manicure? I don't really recommend it. But I did it."

Another picture of a very tired looking Lucifer, rising a thumb eye with the paint brush in hand. For every progress in the figurine, the blonde hair, the black antlers, the red cheeks, the black dot for the nose, the hooves, there was a new picture showing the progress until finally the figurine did looked like a tiny version of Charlie curled up on herself.

"Isn't that the cutest thing that you have ever seen in your life?" cooed Lucifer. "Just imagine how cute that would have been, a tiny Charlie to carry on your pocket and whenever you need her, there she is, tiny Charlie! Sometimes I really wish I had made two, one just to keep for myself to remind me my baby girl used to be like that."

"She was lovely" added Alastor, looking up from his coffe to the picture, having the same nostalgic smile as his husband. "She still is."

"And made all by hand, every single detail made to perfection" said Lucifer, booping the nose of Charlie and she smiled, resting her chin on her hand.

Vaggie really liked this, this warm environment that they have formed. She wondered if that is how family is supposed to feel like. Lucifer again at the album, passing to the next page where now the figure was surrounded by what looked to be an egg marked by strips of gold and green surrounding it.

"Now we had to feed her our magic. We quickly find out that it wasn't easy. Whenever Alastor's magic attached itself to our baby, the next moment rejected my own and viceversa whenever it did absorved mine. If we were two sinners or two fallen angel or whatever, we could have probably finished the entire thing in a few days tops. But as it were, we had to be very careful with how much magic we have to her, for how long and never let it go without a charge from any of us. The first weeks were a nightmare, we barely slept at all trying to figure out the right formula so she was our daughter, equal parts of both of us. Somehow we ended up finding the rythm. It was exhausting, but it was worth every second of it when she started growing."

Lucifer passed to another photograph of the same bowl, the same golden and green egg, but at the center of it was clear the figurine had gotten at least three times bigger. It was still not bigger than Lucifer's fist.

"Can you see that her hair wasn't still real hair at this point?" Vaggie inspected it a little further and realized that he was right. But the skin already was starting to look less like hardened clay and more soft, like returning to a previous state. "You have to understand that neither of us have ever done something like this before, so we didn't really knew what to expect or what was normal. Nothing on this was normal already, we were in the dark. Al can confirm that I was kinda losing my mind a bit wondering if after a while she was really growing at all or we were wasting our efforts."

"Neither of us slept those nights either" affirmed Alastor, nodding along as he reached his hand to touch the cheek of Lucifer.

Lucifer blushed, taking the hand and kissing the knuckles before continueing, leaving it to rest on top of his other arm.

"That is the thing when you keep watching the same thing every day for hour. It's hard to notice any change unless they happen suddenly and this was anything but sudden. The pictures did helped a lot. The Charlie that was on the first day had nothing with the Charlie that was after three months" The next picture now showed what definitely looked like a little baby compared to the other where there was only a figurine. "Little by little, she was coming along. We haven't announced to the other sins just yet, but we have bought her so much clothing and toys for the room we picked up for her. I couldn't wait to see her dressed up on all the cute outfits I found for her. What toys were going to be her favorite? How was she going to want to pass the time? Would she get my taste for sweet things or turn her nose to them like Al? I could help to form her physical form, but everything else about her was still a mystery. Those were the best days because she continued growing and growing, just as beautiful as we imagined she could be."

Lucifer grimaced before turning the page. On the picture there Charlie already looked as a normal baby, covered in a blanket, the egg of magic around her nowhere to be found. She looked as if she was sleeping.

"One day she wouldn't take any more magic" continued Lucifer, his voice suddenly adquiring a new melancholic tone. He frowned. "She was fully formed. She should have been ready. But she wouldn't open her eyes or take her first breath. It was like she was stillborn. After five months of continuos work… that wasn't what we wanted."

Alastor squeezed the arm of his husband, looking down as well with no expression beyond his pertual smile. It was easy to imagine that they were both destroyed.

"I… " started Alastor softly, but he needed a moment to gather his words again. "I didn't realize how much I had also been expecting her to be there until then. I gave my magic and waited for the best, but many of the preparations were done by Lucifer and he was the one who wouldn't shut up about how excited he was. I just kept thinking that even if this fails, it was okay. We could always try again, as many times as we want to get it right. We could spend all of eternity trying if that is what it took. But when I saw her there and she wasn't doing anything, I…"

It seemed he had been left without knowing how to continue, or wanting to. Lucifer looked down to the picture and started smiling as he passed to the next page.

"I asked Alastor to let me try something different. I hold Charlie on my arms, for the first time since I sculpted her original form, and I breathed into her every portion of magic I could. All my hopes, dreams, love, my desperation even. I wanted to see her smile so badly that I didn't know what I would have done if it didn't work. I had done the same thing for some of my plants when they died, but I didn't know if it was going to work for anything more complex than that."

"And then it worked" said Alastor, looking up to his husband like he was the most amazing thing he had ever seen. "She started crying right there. Lucifer cried worst. Just sobbing all over the place. He was so ugly and pathetic."

"Yeah, I was" accepted Lucifer with a smile. He reached over to kiss his husband on the lips, Alastor meeting him halfway through. "I couldn't even fucking speak for five minutes. She was the most precious little thing that had ever existed in all of creation. I mean, just look at her!" The picture in question now showed the curious look of baby Charlie over the shoulder of Lucifer. "How could you not think that was it, fuck all babies in the universe, this one is the best, when you see this face?"

"The distribution of magic wasn't as equal as we hoped in the end" added Alastor, tracing a finger over the stitches at the side of Charlie's mouth that were in the pictures. "For one, I didn't expect her to inherit this aspect of my demonic form when Lucifer never designed it. But in the other hand, she probably had more magic of Lucifer than mine inside since he was the final touch."

"That is why she is my little baby" Lucifer now made a kissy face to the adult Charlie, pinching her cheek despite the blush on her. Vaggie chuckled behind her hand, finding this side of her too adorable to interrupt. "My little duckling."

"She is still my daughter too" Alastor's ear flattened against his skull.

"Yeah, I know, that is why she is perfect." Lucifer said it like that was obvious enough already, completely unaware of how the radio demon was disarmed by it. "If she was all me, then what would be the point?"

Alastor cleared his throat a bit, regaining his composure as if he had been prepared for a spat.

"In any case, that is the story of how my little fawn came to grace our lives" finalized, reaching to find the hand of Charlie and squeezed once.

After that, Lucifer closed that album and showed Vaggie of other pictures of Charlie as a real baby. Her duckie onesie that Lucifer had bough in every color of the rainbow. Her face covered in paint as she was painting in Lucifer's lap. Her first crawl, her first step. The first time she got Alastor's coat filthy with her baby food, drawing a happy face on it.

"Why isn't Alastor on any of these?" asked after a while, noticing it was always the feet of the radio demon near his baby or his hands reaching for her, but nothing else.

"Oh, he is camera shy" said Lucifer with a teasing smile, making Alastor to squint his eyes at him.

"This face was made for radio" pointed out the demon. "New technology doesn't mesh well with me and I don't mesh well with it."

"So as I said, camera shy."

Alastor looked displeased, but didn't say more as Lucifer kept going about the childhood of Charlie. By the time they have reached the first day of Charlie in the kindergarten, Charlie the adult was yawning and Vaggie rubbed her eyes. It was rather later, so they had to go.

Lucifer insisted on them taking the rest of the ice cream for the hotel and a tupperware with some of the leftover meat to eat tomorrow. Vaggie accepted it all, stammering over her words to try to say thank you and everything was wonderful, while Charlie was hugging Alastor.

"See you at the hotel, dad."

"For sure, dear."

Charlie also hugged Lucifer, both of them squeezing each other for a bit until they finally let go, laughing as they breath again.

"Love you, papa!"

"Love you too, duckling. Vaggie, you can come in whenever you want! I will show you the report cards of Charlie in second grade!"

After the two women traspassed the portal, Lucifer closed it off again with a sigh.

"Tired?" asked Alastor, brushing the blonde hair with his claws. Lucifer leaned into the contact, a lazy smile in his lips.

"Yeah" admitted, stretching out.

They both left the dishes to wash in the morning and went up to their bedroom. On the hallway to it they were greeted by the family portrait they got made when Charlie had just turned 18, she sitting in the middle of her two parents as they stand behind her. Lucifer standing proud with both hands on his cane while Alastor's hand was over the shoulder of their daughter.

There were other portraits like that of their little family, alongside the pictures of a more grown up Charlie growing up.

"I feel like I am so out of practice for talking that long. My throat is fucked" commented Lucifer, unbottoning his shirt as they finally came inside. The lights turned on automatically, revealing a bunch of photographs of the three of them mounted on the wall. Some of them looked a bit glitched out on the margins, like something was not quite right, but they were still pretty clear.

Lucifer sat on the edge of their bed and gave up to pretend he wanted to undress the normal way. He just snapped his fingers to have instead his duckie pajama, layind down as he waited Alastor to join him.

"I am surprised you didn't actually showed her any of my pictures" Alastor took out his pocket watch and put on his nighstand, where a frammed photograph of him laying on that same bed with a baby Charlie that finally had stopped crying.

He still remembered how close he was to falling asleep too when suddenly Lucifer appeared with his camera in hand.

You are a parent now, parents appear on the baby pictures, babe. It's part of the deal you signed up for now, had said his husband and he was just way too exhausted, emotionally and physically, to really argue or make the camera explode as he very well could. It was the same day that Charlie had woke up for the first time. The same day that they thought their attempt had been a failure. Alastor had no idea how truly he had wished for it to work until the moment it seemed it wouldn't.

He had only cried a few times when he was alive, back on Earth, before he knew to form a good enough armor. Never since coming to hell.

He still deeply appreciated how, no matter how many times they told the story of that day, Lucifer never once let it slip how the radio demon had shed tears looking at a lifeless Charlie.

"I told you, those ones are for me and Charlie" Lucifer yawned loudly, getting under the covers when he saw Alastor doing the same. "Vaggie will need to get her a nice ring if she wants the family privileges."

"Please, don't say that to Charlie" pointed out Alastor. On the bed, Lucifer hugged at the pillow, turning to him. "What?"

"I like her. She seems nice."

"Did you forget already about the putting an angelic spear against my neck?"

"Oh, I am sorry, mister I am the big bad Radio Demon, overlord with a hundread souls at my disposition. Did the mean fallen angel without an eye or wings scared you? Do you need me to hold your hand?" Lucifer teased, until Alastor raised an eyebrow and he huffed, offended. "Seriously? You thought I wouldn't recognize one of my own?"

"You barely reacted to her presence, you can understand my confusion."

"Oh, please. If she was still an angel, then I would have a reason to be concerned. But us fallen angel have to stick together!" Lucifer moved a little, taking his hand under the covers as he yawned again, his eyes closing already. "Does Charlie know?"

"I wouldn't know." Alastor put away his monocle, accomodating in the bed as the lights turned off with a gesture of his wrist. "I will try to find out. If she doesn't, I assume we won't tell her either."

"Obviously…" Lucifer's voice was starting to drift off. "Falling really, really sucks. Be nice to her, babe."

Alastor kissed his forehead, not promising anything but at least willing to listen to him.

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