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girl bye im literally craving for calcharo fics (normal or smut) im so hungry for him😕 i might as well make my own calcharo fic uwu
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Did everybody’s server crash today or was it just me???
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Beel: Mc is very angry….
Lucifer: Don't worry, they'll get over it soon.
Beel: How can you be so sure?
Lucifer: *smirk* Because I've enchanted the mayonnaise so they can't open it, they'll ask us for help.
Beel: Ooooh and do you think that-
A sound of glass breaking is heard and they run over there.
Lucifer and Beel: …
Mc: *with the broken glass mayonnaise jar in one hand* …. *staring at them* …
Lucifer: …
Mc: *being a proud bastard almost as much as the avatar of pride* Hum *leaves without saying anything to them*
Beel: I guess we'll have to look for another way…
Lucifer:… Sometimes I forget why they have a pact with me.
.
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Moonstruck
Ahem ahem I miss my local bad boy
Everybody say thank you to @chilliesillie for this because THIS is the only reason it exists😍
-
"I missed you." You snuggle closer to Elias, pressing your face into his neck.
He had left earlier in the morning to meet his father, leaving you alone in the safe house. It was the first time you'd been by yourself in a while and you just couldn't help but jump onto him the first chance you got, so as soon as he returned you took it upon yourself to push him onto the couch and smother him in hugs.
"Really? I was only gone for two hours babe." He giggles at the feeling of your breath on his skin.
You pulled away, a faux frown on your face, "Okay but you left without telling me. I woke up and the bed was empty, actually the entire house was empty!"
"I'm sorry babe. You looked so peaceful sleeping, I didn’t wanna wake you up." He placed a hand on your cheek, and you eagerly lean into his touch. "Besides you knew I had to see Warden today."
"Yeah, but that didn't make me feel any less lonely. I really really missed you."
The state he's in right now is just tempting. The way he leans back giving you full access to his body, his hands gently caressing your thighs on either side of his body. And his eyes, his fucking eyes that keep looking at you with that dreamy expression.
"How about I make it up to you?" He’s looking up at you all starry eyed and expecting. "You can use me as you please. Anything you want, you can take it from me."
Your heartbeat quickens and if you didn't look away now, you might just lose yourself in the depts of his gaze.
"Why do you say things like that?" You try to hide your flushed cheeks with your hands.
"Hey," he turns your face back to look at him, "You said you missed me, I'm just giving you the opportunity to show me how much."
"Shut up"
He takes your hand from your face, placing it right on his chest, “I feel a little stuck in this jacket, will you please help me get it off?”
You don’t respond, scared that some other sound might escape your throat that most definitely aren’t words ,especially when he’s pulling you further up his lap, closing the space between your bodies.
Wordlessly, you push his jacket further down his shoulder, swallowing hard as more of his arms is revealed. No matter how many times you've seen them, even if he parades the house in shirts without sleeves all the time, you'll never get over how attractive they are.
"Keep going." He leans up to whisper in your ear and you promptly shove him back down. He stays down, chuckling at how dishevelled you are from just some light teasing.
"You'll be the death of me.” You huff.
“Don’t be dramatic, I know you want this just as much as I do. I know you’ve been wai-”
He does not shut up, does he? So, you shut him up, pressing your lips onto his. He’s still laughing at your impatience in-between kisses, it reverberates through the kiss and annoys you even more, so you push him further into the plush cushions. He helps you stay anchored to him with his hands on your hips, squeezing more and more as the kiss escalates. He willingly opens his mouth granting you access to his tongue, and you willingly accept.
When you finally pull away, you’re both out of breath. He’s still looking up at you with the same awestruck expression and you wonder just what’s going through his mind.
“I… I like it when you look at me like that.” You confess, “It’s the same way you look at the stars.”
He’s grinning below you, gently guiding your face back down to kiss him again. The way his body reacts to you is astonishing, willing to bend and comply at your every touch. In turn, it makes you want to give in to his every request and need. In the end of it all, it’s just you and him indulging in each other to satiate you own wants.
“You- god you.” You’re dumbstruck.  
“Come on, kiss me more." He pushes, voice raspy and filled of need. "Paint galaxies on my skin with your lips.”
The hairs on your skin raise, sending tickles and shivers down your spine. This man needs to be stopped. But...
If that’s what he wants, who are you to deny him?
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i love how in afk journey, if you have Reinier (hypogean) on your team and he banishes an enemy, and then your team defeats the rest of the enemies, they have to stand around waiting for the banished enemy to return
and then when the enemy does return, the whole team swarms it to beat its ass
i literally sometimes say “get his ass!” when they do it lmao
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“there’s so many fishes in the sea but i never learned how to swim” ; aventurine
summary — a guide to pining presented by yours truly, aventurine.
pairing — aventurine (w/ gender-neutral reader)
tags — fluff, secret pining but like aventurine can be too obvious, not proofread, 0.8k ; headcanons
tagging — @toorurs (sorry boo i forgot to tag 😭)
note — i know i could have done better with this one, my brain wasn’t just working and im also on a trip. this is day 6 and 7 of writing for him until i get him !!
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Aventurine yearns for connection yet he erects tall walls of self-preservation, fearing vulnerability, attachment, and betrayals (the shadow of his fear of losing someone dear to him all over again will haunt and follow his steps). He’s always distant, seemingly detached to the people around him like a leaf that never touches the ground as the wind carries it away; his only drive for relationships is due to mutual-benefit or a give-and-take situation. So what happens to him when he falls and yearns for someone?
Love is violence, he knows that but his eyes would stumble after your shadow and he wonders what it feels like to live in it. He’ll lie under your gaze and he’ll dream what it feels like to be seen, what it feels like to be loved by you. He will seek ways to be close to you but not close enough that you’ll know the rhythm of his heart spells out the letters of your name. In each moment of longing, it is all tinged with a taste of bitterness as this yearning, though desired, is a precarious precipice—everything will crumble and fall once he speaks about it.
So he settles with stolen looks with wishful thinking that you’ll cast a glance at his direction, he settles with the small things at first before he begins to become selfish—he’ll make up reasons just to see and talk to you, think of excuses just so he could linger a little longer in your presence. He’ll make up games and initiates bets where he knows he’ll always win but would let himself lose anyways; winning or losing didn’t matter to him in those moments with you.
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“Go ahead, guess.”
You fell into a deep thought, staring at the two hands balled into fist that are in front of you. Your eyebrows were scrunched, trying to listen to the voice of your instinct but everything was silent inside your head.
“Take your time. After all, whoever loses has to follow what the winner wants.” Aventurine spoke and you could discern the hint of amusement in his tone as he watched you fall into some sort of predicament—all you had to do was to choose which one of his hands was the coin in. It was just one of the simple games you’ll play with him every time you see each other. Come to think of it, his visits to your department have been quite frequent despite having no particular business, official or not.
“Shh. I’m thinking.” You answer, lifting your index finger to your mouth in a hush gesture. It took you a few moments of silence and thoughtful humming before you pointed at his left hand, “That one.”
But he opens his left hand to show nothing on his palm, his right hand revealing the coin at the same time, and you are hit with a wave of disappointment. A chuckle slips past his lips and you just sighed—there was nothing you could do but to admit defeat. “Well then, what do you want me to do?”
Aventurine, without a single second of hesitation, answered. “Let me take you out to dinner.”
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The thing is you could have laid yourself bare to him, you could tell him all of the sins that taint your skin, the words left unspoken in your mouth, the growing mold in your lungs. He’ll see the rot and will choose to stay, he’ll see the cobwebs and dusty bookshelves, and he’ll love you still, he’ll see the torn wallpapers and ruined floors and he’ll still adore you (he’ll find you where you are most ruined and he will love you there).
(His hand would gently tug and hold at the cuffs of your sleeves, letting the warmth and closeness of his touch linger in hopes that you’ll see him in the sun that holds you gently.)
Many people claim that they love you but do they adore you the same way as he does? Would they cross bridges for you when he’ll swim oceans just to see the way your eyes catch the light? Would they traverse the stars just to listen to the sound of your laughter? 
(He’ll see the dirt in your hands and will help you wash it off when others would simply walk away.)
He’ll think of you as he laid in his bed, satin sheets all wrinkled and messy as his pillows scattered around his form, and he wondered how nice it would be to have your things among his. to have the smell of your perfume mixed with his, to have you in his arms before he sleeps (he has dreams of his dreams and you’re always in it).
All this yearning, longing, and adoration will turn into a sword that will make him bleed the more he holds on to it and you’ll stay in his thoughts as the blood will run dry on his being. He simply hopes he crosses your mind once in a while so that he won’t feel pathetic for thinking of you all the time.
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© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.
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20% Convergence
↳ You and Elias watch the eclipse together ↳ 540 words / also available on ao3! ↳ A quick, unedited drabble for the North American eclipse; hope y'all enjoy <3
Elias handed you a pair of glasses, shockingly flimsy for their protection. You opened the wings and pushed them back into your hair.
“How mad will your dad be about this?” It was a partial joke, though mostly not – you’d rather face a bullet than Warden’s wrath.
Elias laced his hands into yours. “Fuck that. Let him be pissed.” And he whisked you out the door, finally done punching in the keycode.
Outside was slightly dimmed, only noticeable through the knowledge that it was supposed to be. The sky was grayer; the shadows uneven and calm; a world seemingly stopped for the hiding sun.
You entertain the thought for a moment. How many were just like them, trailing the sky for a glimpse at the phenomena?
Rough hands glide the glasses down over your eyes and the world goes dark. You open your mouth in protest before they move your head upwards, and it comes into view.
The sun is ablaze, vivid with unpatternable fire, making a color so dark and vibrant it seemed otherworldly. And the moon was nothing, a cookie-cutter to the sun.
It was a reversal in every way: The sun, normally so bright that it defined the moon with its glow, became molded by the umbra.
But above all else, it was beautiful.
Minutes pass as you both bask in the rarity, Elias not letting a moment go without explaining a facet of it. Ultraviolet to orbits mesh in his voice. You barely understood a word, but the passion was familiar.
As the sun became more obscured, you felt a chill seep into the air: Something deeper than any breeze, cold in more than just the temperature. The sun, and thus its warmth, was being cut off.
You draw your hands around yourself, knitting a tight blanket of arms to combat the rising bumps on them. “Maybe we should grab a blanket…” you say, having waited for a moment he seemed to take a dip in his rants.
Elias glances at you before looking back to the sky. Continuing in his explanations, he slips his leather jacket off and places it around your shoulders.
His hands work down from the shoulders to your waist, wrapping them around it before propping his head right where his hands used to be. He constricts, and you’re pulled closer to him. With every breath is a fleeting patch of warmth. Smoke has never smelt so romantic.
You feel like the eclipse: So close, and yet so far. Selfishly, you wish to be closer to him, your lips on his, hands not blocked by the jacket. So you lean in, a kiss peppered to his cheek.
He smiles, pulling up his cheek into a crooked hook – and you look back to the sky.
You stay like that until the moon reaches its zenith, a measly twenty percent of coverage here in California, but alluring all the same.
For a moment, you tilt the glasses down to catch a glimpse of Elias. That ever-growing smile, waxing in rhythm with the eclipse, is all you needed. Even with shaded eyes his affections lay bare. You lean back into his shoulder and let yourself drift with the moon, which began its climb back down.
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hiii pookie 🤭💗
was wondering if you could do a (nsfw?) text fic of the Saku verse boys getting jealous of someone talking to their listener?
Ask and you shall receive pookie🤭
Warning: suggestive/slight nsfw for some chars
(Also sorry if this is bad I have a fever and pretty sure I'm high off the meds rn)
✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧
When they get Jealous
✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧
♡ Isaac first because ik how much you love him
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♡ Andrew
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♡ Xanthus
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♡ Dontis
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♡ Elias
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♡ Jonah
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♡ Kayson
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♡ Zaros
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♡ Asirel
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Extras
♡ Fran
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Frannn I miss her :(
Okay I'm goibg to bed now GOOD NIGHT!❤️
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When I read a fanfic I like, the author becomes a mini celebrity to me. So when an author with a work I like kudos’ or comments on my own fanfic I just-
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saw this cat video on pinterest and it reminded me (somehow??) of episode 2….
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The Sting of Envy
CW: GN!MC, hurt/comfort, angst, occult practice, fluff, mention of kids (kinda?), Demons Being Overall Taller Than Humans On Average, and - of course - jealousy. Please let me know if there is anything I didn't think to add!
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Of course you moved in with Solomon when you went back to the human realm. It only made sense; it’s a big realm after all, and you needed to be close to your teacher. To your demons, however, it was a decision that they did not like to think about. Would Solomon try something funny? What did you do together? Did you enjoy a level of domestic human bliss your demons could only dream of? Or were you largely independent of each other?
They’d probably be delusional if they thought this wasn’t right, that this isn’t where you actually belong. Safe, happy, with other humans. With Solomon. But your demons miss you desperately.
So when you invite everyone to a Beltane party to break in yours and Solomon’s new place together, even Barbatos arranges to ensure he and Diavolo can attend. No one would dare turn it down. Even if it results in envy eating away the very muscle of their hearts.
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Lucifer
His head is swimming from glass number…2…3? He had lost count of how many glasses of red wine he had drunk at this point, but certainly more than intended. How could he not? He had to drink to try to quell the emptiness he felt seeing you thrive here, without him. Don’t get him wrong, there’s pride in this as well - he’s always proud of you. So Proud. How independent you are here. You’re so capable, so strong. You don’t need him to protect you like he did in the Devildom.
As much as he would never admit it, he adored that dependency you had with him. But not here. This is your home, your domain. What hurts the most is that, if you do need help here, you won’t be summoning him - not unless it’s something very important. You’ll call Solomon. Your roommate. He can’t bear to think of this arrangement as anything but plutonic. But he wants you to know you can lean on him for anything.
The alcohol impedes his ability to bury these emotions in the backyard of his brain. They’re inescapable. He feels the familiar sting of tears threatening to form on his lash line. You don’t need him.
“Lucifer, I need you!” 
What? 
“Can you come here for a moment? I can’t reach this serving dish.” 
He stumbles slightly from the wine as he shuffles into your kitchen and watches as you balance unsteadily on one foot, reaching helplessly and futilely at a dish perched on the top shelf. Lucifer’s eyes flit back to Solomon, his nose in his own wine glass, chuckling obliviously at some joke form Asmodeus. He saunters to your side, almost huffing. 
“Why don’t you ask Solomon? It is his home after all.” he says, more pointedly than intended.
“Huh? Are you kidding? Look at this cabinet! He’s taller than I am, but he’s still an average-sized human. He can’t reach up here either. We usually have to get a ladder or use magic. I know you can reach it easily though. C’mon, or are you really going to make me go get the ladder when you’re right here?”
Lucifer sighs and shakes his head, but he can’t hide the prideful curve of his lips. He approaches you from behind, softly resting one hand on your  waist  as he effortlessly grabs the dish and sets it gently down on the counter in front of you.
“Besides,” You lean your weight back into him, craning your neck back to plant a soft kiss on his cheek. “I would rather you be the one to help me. I’ll always come to you for help when I need it.”
He blinks rapidly a few times, fighting the sting of his lash line once more as he wraps his arms around you and buries his face in the warmth of your neck
“Say it again.”
Mammon
“I have a little Beltane gift for you, MC.” Mammon’s ear perks up as overhears Solomon talking about gifts. It had better not be cooler than mine, he thinks, thumbing over his own gift for you hidden in his pocket. 
He can’t help but to peek around the corner to check out this inferior gift of Solomon’s. Mammon immediately feels put to shame by the presentation alone. The box is wrapped in brown paper, twine, and pressed human realm wildflowers, probably picked by Solomon himself. Fuck.
“Oh, no, I wish I had known!” Your brow furrows as you look up at Solomon. “I...didn’t get you anything.”
“Unnecessary.” Solomon assures you. “It’s nothing big, just something I noticed you needed.”
You smile at him and shyly open the gift, carefully handling the flowers and setting them aside to keep. Instead of an expression of delight at the box’s contents, your face falls into an expression that can best be described as guilt. 
“Solomon, I…this is so nice. Too nice. I couldn’t possibly accept something like this without having gotten you anything!” 
Humble as ever, Mammon thought, as you pulled out a new pair of leather boots. They seemed cool, well-made, designer. Not that you ever really cared about that stuff. You were modest and practical, and Mammon admired you for it. He wished he could be like you in this way. Of course, he could never turn down free designer boots. 
“MC. I have had 3000 years for my fortune to collect interest. I can absolutely afford to replace your boots - which you have worn the soles out of, by the way. Don’t think I didn’t notice. You needed new ones. Please allow me this.” Solomon softly grasped your hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.
Mammon felt like he had been punched in the gut. “Interest” is a concept barely comprehensible to him. More familiar concepts are: “debt,” and “overdraft.” Broke. He wished he could give you anything - everything. He would spend every cent he had to adorn you in the most stylish clothes, the comfiest shoes, the shiniest jewels. He'd take you on luxurious vacations, just the two of you, to the most romantic locations in the demon realm. He would spoil you rotten. But he couldn’t - not like Solomon could. Solomon, who lives here, in this modest home with you, living like he doesn’t have a royal fortune on reserve somewhere (somewhere Mammon desperately wished he could get his hands on.) Solomon, who doesn’t waste every grimm he has gambling and splurging until he is broke enough to wait tables in a seductive bunny outfit and appease giggling, gawking beings who are not you.
Suddenly, the baggy in his pocket felt like a boulder. In actuality, the baggie’s contents are lightweight, small, and…free. But he’ll be damned to the circles before he gives up an opportunity to spoil you. 
He waits for a rare moment when you are alone, preparing something in the kitchen for the party, then he makes his move.
“MC.” 
You turn to him as he calls you, your face lighting up by his mere presence. And of course you would be happy by the presence of the Great Mammon, you first man. And maybe that would count for something when you open his gift, paling in comparison to the one just presented by Solomon. His cheeks tinge as he holds out the bag, rubbing the back of his neck shyly with his free hand. 
“Here. For you. Think of it as a gift for the host.”
“Oh, Mamms! You didn’t have to do thi-...” You’re rendered silent as you pull out a delicate, homemade bracelet. Your smile again drops, but this time it morphs into an expression of awe. You inspect it closer, sliding the colorful beads of a friendship bracelet until you reach letters.
T - R - E - A - S - U - R - E
“Mammon…”
“I-It ain’t  much! I know it ain’t, not what ya deserve, but… My luck was lousy at the track this weekend. I didn’t have much left, but I still wanted to get ya something. Borrowed some stuff from Levi. He makes things like this for his “faves, waifus, husbandos,” or whatever, and he wears ‘em to think about ‘em.  I thought maybe…you could do that t-...”
Suddenly the wind is knocked from his lungs as you throw yourself at him, flinging your arms tight around his waist.
“I love it. I love it so much. I’m going to wear it every day we’re apart. Would you put it on for me?”
Mammon makes no effort to hide his satisfied grin. He slides on your homemade friendship bracelet, made with all the love in his heart, while the expensive new boots Solomon gifted you lay untouched in the box next to your shoe rack.
Leviathan
It’s too much. It’s all too much. Levi groans and clenches his stomach, the discomfort on his face apparent.
“I…ugh…I’ll be back. Where’s the bathroom?” Levi quickly darts in the direction Solomon casually pointed as Asmodeus calls after him, frustration in his tone. “I told you not to eat the leftover rainbow pizza when you knew we were about to come here to eat!”
“Yeah,” chimed Beel, “I wanted it to tide me over until dinner.” Beel clenched his own stomach, though likely feeling a different kind of discomfort that Leviathan. Levi doesn’t look back as he storms into the bathroom and slams the door behind him.
“Hey! Easy!” he hears Solomon’s muffled scorn, but he doesn’t care. Not when he is in so much agony. 
“It hurts, fuck…” He clenches the lip of the sink, desperately trying to control himself. And it would be so much easier if everyone else could get it together. Every one of them, he felt all of it; every one of them, all at once, seething with envy. The air was practically miasmic with it, and he had to feel the envy of all. of. them. His own was unbearable enough. He raised his face to the mirror, examining his red-tinged sclera and furrowed brows. Then something more interesting catches his tearing eyes.
No. No no no. Are you kidding him? Toothbrushes. Two toothbrushes, one no doubt Solomon’s…and one yours. The mug they’re in, is that…a Disney World cup? Did he take you to DISNEY WORLD?? The cute, fantastical mouse-themed amusement park in the human world? Where you wear matching outfits and hold hands and ride ridES AND BUY MERCH AND EAT JUNK FOOD AND…
He could feel himself hyperventilating until he finally lost control of his human form, his tailing unfurling and his horns erupting from his messy hair. 
He wanted to go to the mouse park with you! HIM! He wanted to share a toothbrush cup and home and host a dinner for his family with you! IT SHOULD BE HIM!!! 
Before his mind even knew what his body was doing, he found himself curling pathetically up into your bathtub. He spotted a pink bottle of something on the edge, and as he rested his head against the porcelain, he caught a whiff of the gloopy substance inside. It was shampoo. It smelled like you. And Solomon got to smell it every day.
It was the last thing he needed to send him over the edge. The anger of the envy he felt burnt up all at once, leaving nothing but the despair. He choked out a muffled sob, one he futilely tried to catch with his hand before it fell through his fingers. He curled up tighter around himself and sobbed softly, just begging that no one hear him.
Knock knock knock knock.
He ignores it. That is, until he hears the door gently open. He seriously forgot to lock the door?! Way to go, Levi!
“Levi.” You step in and close the door, looking at him sympathetically. There isn’t an ounce of surprise on your visage seeing him curled up in the tub. “What’s going on?”
He hides his face again, hoping you didn’t see his tear stained cheeks. Suddenly, he feels you step into the porcelain, lay down, and wrap yourself around him.
“I’m sorry it’s not very clean in here. I didn’t really expect any of you to go into the tub.” You squeeze him ever so much tighter. “You’re hurting me, did you realize that?”
“I…what?”
He flinches as you curl down the waist of your pants - just enough for his pact mark to peak out from the waistband. The skin around the sigil is red and agitated, as if it had been freshly branded onto you all over again. His mark, as he knew well, was the biggest you had, enveloping your hip and thigh. After Mammon greedily claimed the space over your heart, his jealousy made sure his was the biggest one you’d ever have. He watches you wince slightly as you pull the band back up over your stomach and feather your fingers over your thigh. 
“It’s hurting my heart too. To feel you hurting like this.”
“Disney.”
“…Disney?”
Levi sighs and hesitantly glances at you from his periphery.
“Everyone is so jealous right now. All of them. Even Barbatos! It’s suffocating me. They’re probably jealous of you being here, living with Solomon, and him having you all to himself. He’s shady, who knows what he’ll try! And I’m jealous too, you know! Of course I am! And then…then I saw your toothbrushes. And your cup. You must have gone together. And I want to go with you…” 
His voice practically fizzles to a whisper, every ounce of his energy sapped by the envy radiating within the house. You are quiet for a moment.
“Do you know why he took me?”
 Levi barely cared, but he listened anyway. 
“Barbatos stopped by one day. He had some kind of business with Three Crows and took the opportunity to say hello. He mentioned that Diavolo and you guys were all at Devilcat Land that day. After Barb left, I was so sad, wishing I could have been there with everyone. With you.”
This got Levi’s attention, and he huffs out a short burst of disbelieving laughter.
“We had to leave early because I started crying on the teacups. It made me think about that time,” you interrupt yourself with an involuntary chuckle, "that you spun our cup so fast that Lucifer threw up! The Avatar of Pride! Spun a little too fast and threw up in Devilcat trash can!” 
Levi softens, laughing with you, his grip around you tightening.
“Don’t be jealous.” You press a soft, sweet kiss against his lips, wet with tears. “Because I miss you every day.”
Satan
He knew he must have mirrored Lucifer’s body language, brooding over his glass of red wine, but he was too mad to care. Maybe “mad” wasn't precise. His eyes went to Levi, his face contorted with some sort of discomfort and clutching his stomach. Asmodeus made  a comment about Levi’s upset stomach, but Satan was too emotionally intelligent to believe it was his lunch from earlier that ails him: he must be overwhelmed by everyone’s envy.  Levi’s. The rest of his brothers’. Satan’s.
Satan kept it hidden well, of course. It was what he did constantly and what he did best - keeping his emotions in check. His expression had yet to falter and his tail remained concealed as he perused the selection of your bookshelf. He allowed himself a subtle smile, seeing some of the books he had loaned you. He spies a few books that seem like human realm bestsellers he didn’t recognize, but he hoped you’d loan him later if they were any good. He trusted your taste in literature. A few magical reference books, and…oh please… The Lesser Key of Solomon. He couldn’t help but roll his eyes. How pompous to have a copy of your own book in your own house. He could feel his irritation rising.
“MEOW.”
His head immediately snaps to the source of the familiar sound. A small, adorable, yellow cat prances right up Solomon, nuzzling his precious fluffy face on his leg. Solomon shifts his attention to the cat and scritches his chin. “Oh! There you are.”
Satan’s head goes fuzzy, his ears buzz, and his heart practically drops into his feet. This was it.  He felt the barbs of his tail flick against his ankle and fortunately had the wherewithal to wrap it around his leg before it hurt someone. He stares, jaw hanging, mouth agape. You have a cat together.
“You have a cat together…” His tone is somewhere between a question and a statement. The displeasure is now apparent on his face. 
They have a cat together.
“No!”  Satan is grounded by your cry and the thunder of legs pattering down the stairs. “He was supposed to be a surprise!” You hurry down in a frazzled state and scoop the cat up into your arms.
“Tch. He’s not my cat.” Solomon finally teases. “He’s mostly MC’s. We found him wandering outside soon after we moved in here. Ask MC what they named him. I wanted to name him Abraham.” 
Still, Solomon stares fondly at the cat, and holds his paw between his thumb and index fingers. For a moment, it almost sounded like Solomon’s tone had a hint of jealousy of its own. You carry the bundle of fluff over to Satan. You give the kitty a loving kiss on the forehead before passing him to Satan’s oh-so-eager arms. Satan runs a finger over the cat’s green collar until he finds the name tag. He flips over the little silver fish to reveal the cat’s name.
Satan Jr.
The flush on Satan’s cheeks creep across his entire face, ears and all. 
“I know Lucifer won’t let you keep one, not after the incident. I thought, maybe…he could be our cat. And, you know, mostly live with me. But still!”
Satan peered down wide-eyed at the bundle of fluff, already so comfortable in his arms. Satan Jr.? Theirs?? It felt almost like…this cat was their child. In an instant, every ounce of fury that had built up in his body was transmuted to bliss. He arranged Satan Jr. in his arms so he was pressed against his chest, caressing him like he might his own spawn.
“Then I suppose we have a cat together.”
He tried to play it cool, but you couldn’t help but chuckle at the unbridled joy on his face and the brightness in his smile.
Asmodeus
He is definitely seeing something he shouldn’t - but he can’t look away.
It’s perhaps one of the most beautifully surreal scenes he’s witnessed since his time in the Celestial Realm, yet it’s so unapologetically human.
He had initially been drawn to the sound of your sweet voice, singing as clear as crystal rims in the echoes of the kitchen while you watched over the honey cakes in the oven. Be was pulled in as if it were a siren’s song, but it wasn’t. It was beautiful you. 
He stopped himself from joining you when he heard Solomon’s voice, equally beautiful and equally moving, duetting your own. 
Perhaps the song had started one day as one of you overhearing the other, recognizing the melody, and clumsily singing along. Now, however, it was like some kind of hauntingly beautiful mating call between two human lovers. Your voices were intertwined, complimenting each other, rehearsed. You two must have sung this together often.
Asmodeus couldn’t help but peek at his two favorite humans in the kitchen, but now he almost wishes he hadn’t. 
Because what he sees when he peers in is the two of you, dancing slowly and softly together as you sing your beautiful melody to each other. Solomon smiles and stares lovingly into your eyes as your cheeks flush and you sing your line. The adoration in his gaze is unmistakable. His hand in your hand, Solomon softly rocks you to the music the two of you create together. The golden hour sun lights up every single color on your irises and peppers your skin with the rainbows from the suncatchers you’ve hung in the kitchen window. 
From the open window pours a warm spring breeze that lifts your hair to dance in the currents, and assaults Asmodeus’ face with the sweet scent of spring flowers and…you. 
It is ethereal. 
To see such beauty completely removed from himself begins to arouse envy in his chest. This kind of beauty is unique to humanity, and he cannot be a part of it. But it is not you he is envious of.
Asmodeus loved Solomon. He did. But he had felt the kind of love he feels with Solomon before and will likely feel it again. You, though. You. You made him experience that agony and euphoria of being in love. A feeling he thought he was completely incapable of. Until you.
But if his favorite humans were mates, then…that made sense right? You make sense together. And Asmodeus could have his pick of anyone else in the three realms. Maybe he could even convince the two of you to let him in on things. So why did it hurt so much?
“Apologies, darling apprentice, but I saw your grimoire open this morning. You’re working on a Beltane ritual, yes?”
The singing stopped, but Solomon’s grip on you remained. Asmo could still hear Solomon’s voice despite his hushed tone, because he could pick up the tone of seduction anywhere. While ordinarily Asmodeus would appreciate the game, the honey in Solomon’s words to you made him sick. 
Even as a human realm holiday, Asmodeus had heard of Baltane. This one, after all, was adjacent to his domain: a holiday of flames, fertility, and…
“I could help, if you’d like me too. We can even jump over the flame together this year. Wouldn’t that be fun? Then, once we prepare, we can perform this ritual.” Though Solomon whispers against your ear, Asmodeus can faintly make out Solomon purring, “Sex magic is very powerful.”
And with that, Asmodeus was gone. He’d already seen too much. 
After dinner, as Asmo shoved his arm through the white, leather sleeve of his jacket to leave, he wondered how he could distract himself from yours and Solomon’s…ritual…later. Perhaps he could find someone at The Fall to drown his sorrows in. After all, it’s not like you and Asmo were exclusive. You could fuck whoever you wanted and he wouldn’t care, he lied to himself. He’s shaken from his jealous slurry of thoughts by a warm hand on his forearm.
“Asmo, wait!”
He takes a deep breath before turning to face you. “I had a great time tonight, hun, thanks for inviting us! I have to get going, but-“
“I need your help with a ritual tonight!” 
Your cheeks flush and your eyes sparkle as you look at him. You’re projecting an air of shyness, but Asmodeus can smell it in your pheromones, no mistake. Lust. You were simply adorable. “P-please.”
Ah, interesting. So the ritual wasn’t meant to be performed with Solomon. It never was. How embarrassing for Solomon. Amusement dances in his eyes thinking about you rejecting his advance mere moments after he had walked away. Solomon would be spending the night of Beltane alone, while Asmo…
The corners of Asmodeus’ mouth curl into a dangerous smile and he gently pulls you into him by your hip.
“It’s Beltane, is it not? What kind of ritual could you need me for, darling?”
You’re silent a moment, the blush dusting your cheeks deepening by the second. “It’s Beltane.” You respond.
“Well, well…” You could practically see the hearts in his eyes just before he gently pulled your mouth to his, capturing your lips in a deep, passionate kiss. He murmurs against your lips in a deep, seductive tone, “Blessed Beltane.”
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themoonalienhere2000 · 2 months
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idk
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themoonalienhere2000 · 2 months
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doing elias’s makeup
insp: @nanachozip
“OW you’re gonna poke my eye out!” Elias exclaimed as he tried to dodge the makeup brush in your hands.
“I won’t if you just hold still” You said laughing, trying to balance the eyeshadow pallet and brush in one hand while your other grabbed his face, pulling him to look at you.
Biting down on your lip as you focused, trying to fix the wonky eye wing.
Elias’s eyes flickered from your eyes to your lips and he smirked, enjoying having you so close to his face.
Sitting back to examine your work, Elias picked up the mirror on the side. You frowned and picked out a different brush, turning back to see Elias had smudged the corner of his eye while you were distracted.
Grinning at your expression of dismay, he snaked a hand around your waist, “I guess you’ll just have to do it again.”
In one swift movement, Elias pulled you forward onto his lap and leaned into your mouth.
Closing his eyes and tangling your lips with his, arms resting on his shoulders, your fingers tugging playfully at the ends of his hair.
Sending sparks around your body as you felt his tongue exploring yours, a hand resting affectionately around the back of your neck. Pulling away gently, feeling your hot breath on his face as you pulled air into your lungs to make up for the fact that your heart was beating a hundred miles an hour.
Opening your eyes slowly to catch him looking up at you lovingly, your faces still only a few inches apart. Before he could react, you picked up a makeup wipe and cleaned the cloud of dark eye shadow before hooking the palm of your hand under his chin. “Now keep still”, you smiled.
that’s it ml! hope you enjoyed, have a good day/night! <3
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themoonalienhere2000 · 2 months
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⟁ A BULLET A DAY, ft. BOOTHILL.
⠀ — where teasing, annoying, poking and prodding all fall under the same category; flirting.
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⚠︎︎ more mechanic! reader, gn, boothill being an idiot, flirting, suggestive, he has fake teeth to me, something about tension + leaving him high and dry is soooo ….
from this request !
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it’s a miracle, truly, how boothill manages to be so tempting and endearing yet so utterly irritating and infuriating at the same time. 
and it’s hot, sure, but that just makes it all the more annoying, leaves you frustrated and with an odd pool in your stomach.  
boothill managed his way into your supply of bullets, happily tossing back the brass casings like a simple snack. it was a genius idea at the time, really, giving him a stomach that can store ammunition. though had you expected him to chew on the damn things instead of swallowing them— you know, like he was intended to— you would’ve just given him a little side bag to save yourself the work.
you half hoped the lead stuffing the things would seep into his still intact brain, but chastised yourself for the thought soon after having it. you don’t hate him that much. your brain should check back and try the thought again in twenty minutes. 
“y’know what’d be real neat, buttercup?” boothill’s legs were kicked up lazily on your workbench as he sat next to you, waiting for you to finish a small modification on his revolver. “spikes in my boots.” he lifted a foot up, rolling his ankle a bit. “you know, them retractable ones. be able t’a have some real fun with those things.”
you snorted, his efforts to dodge his synesthesia beacon as entertaining as always.
“since when do i take requests?” you asked, eyes focused down on your work— far too used to his antics to lift your head anymore.
“since when d’you deny gettin’ to tinker with me?”
he brought his feet down to the floor and leaned forward on his thighs, the denim of his pants tightening around them. “what, gonna make me say please and thank ya now?” 
you truly wanted to reply, say it wasn’t a half bad idea and that you’d look into the upgrade. until he started shaking a few bullets around in his palm like they were fucking almonds.
now boothill noticed the clench of your jaw, and oh how he revelled in it. he’s fully aware how the crunching of brass and lead peeves you, ie. you telling him to knock it off an hour ago— (“it ain’t hurtin’ nobody, is it now?”—) but you’re just so darn cute when you’re ticked off. he’s gotta push your buttons just a lil bit. 
“somethin’ the matter?” the way his sharp teeth gleamed through that damn grin weren’t doing anything to help. 
he took a bullet between his thumb and forefinger, the shiny gunmetal digits pinching the ammunition as he held it up next to you. “d’ya care for one, sugar plum?”
fine, you thought. two can play that game.
you tore your attention away from the old steel revolver, finally turning to look at him. boothill prepared for an insult, one he’d tell you was ‘flatterin’ and all,’ but it didn’t come.
you leaned towards his hand, keeping your eyes locked with his that glowed a familiar and faint red. 
then you took the bullet between your tongue and top front teeth, gently pulling it out of his hands with your mouth.
his smirk actually dropped— you’d think someone stuck an infected usb into his ear with all the ideas that flooded the forefront of his brain, making his circuits just tingle with excitement. something about the hot single mechanic in his area.
you turned back to your desk, removing the bullet from your teeth and twirling it between your fingers idly as you gave a once over to his revolver, as if nothing had happened.
boothill blinked, chuckling gruffly with a shake of his head as he slumped back in his chair, flicking another bullet into the air with his thumb and catching it in his palm with a gentle clink! the cyborg gave a low whistle as he kicked his feet back up.
“ain’t you somethin’,” he drawled, earning a chuckle from you. “y’sure know how t’keep a man on his toes, don’t ya buttercup?” 
“i dunno what you mean, boothill.” you only offered a hum, willfully ignorant to boothill’s colourful imagination.
“oh i’m real sure y’don’t.” he shook his head, another chuckle rumbling his chest and sending a shiver down your neck.
“say,” he leaned towards you, his shoulder to yours, feeling a little lucky and dropping his voice to a knee-weakening purr, “if that pretty mouth a’yers likes metal, i’m more’en happy t’a—” 
“all done.”
all bets go down the drain. boothill deadpanned as you clicked the barrel of his gun into place and handed it back to him, standing up to stretch your arms.
“shops closed for today,” you fold them, leaning back against your bench. “you better get a move on before i have to kick you out.”
boothill’s eyes trailed up your figure, taking his sweet time finding your face. the cowboy raised an eyebrow into a cocky arch despite him swearing his body was on the verge of its cooling protocol. 
“you keep woundin’ me, sugar.” 
“i dunno what you mean, boothill.”
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⠀ 𑣲 MASTERLIST / GOT A REQUEST ?
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themoonalienhere2000 · 2 months
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"Is it true that you had 700 wives?"
Solomon looks up from his book, to where you're laying on his bed, homework in hand. He'd convinced you to take the class "Rhetoric 101: How to win any argument with an angel using biblical quotes" because he'd figured it'd be fun to watch you try to spark up an argument with Simeon. It was a nice perk that you could study together. It hadn't even occurred to him that he might get mentioned in the coursework.
You read over the pages, eyes brimming with amusement. "What could you possibly need 700 wives for?" you ask and he shrugs. "Mostly politics and gaining land," he says but you don't seem entirely convinced. "Might I remind you that this was happening during a period of 80 years?" he says but you just raise your brows at him. "That's still like 9 wives per year, though. How on earth did you have time for that?" you're laughing now, really laughing and Solomon has to fight a smile.
"What, they'd get like a month and a half each before you were on to the next one," you say, wiping the tears on your cheek. "Actually, I never even met most of them," he says, hoping to help his cause, but it only causes you to laugh even harder. Solomon huffs and pretends to read his book again, letting your laughter subside, but once you read the next line of your homework you're laughing again.
"You had 300 concubines? How is that even possible?" you cackle and Solomon rolls his eyes. "That was a rumour. I did not have that many," he says but you're far gone, clutching your belly as you gasp for air. "I'll have you know that having a pact with the Avatar of Lust gives you a very high libido-" he begins.
"Oh, trust me, I know," you wheeze.
He's on you in a second, pushing you down on the bed, a hand on each side of your head. You giggle, when he presses kisses to your face, any surface he can reach, your cheeks, your forehead, your nose.
"Stop" kiss "teasing" kiss "me!" kiss, he whines, but you've only just begun. "Oh, I'm sorry, my lord, it's just I haven't seen you in three years, you've been so busy with all your wives-" Solomon shuts you up with a kiss on the lips and you bury your hands in his hair, leaning into it. He lays down on top of you, using your chest as a pillow, refusing to move an inch. "Sol, you're crushing me," you complain and he grumbles. He presses a kiss to your collarbone and grabs your homework, throwing it into a corner of his room, before getting comfortable again, this time crushing you a little less. You run your fingers through his hair, humming softly.
You both know that it doesn't actually matter how many wives or concubines or past lovers he's had. Sometimes Solomon thinks that it's all just been a build-up, that none of it actually mattered. His real life didn't begin until he met you and he's completely fine with that.
"Sooo, did you have a favourite? Or perhaps 30 favourites?"
"Oh, shut up."
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themoonalienhere2000 · 2 months
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— 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠
✧·˚ three small moments when elias realized he was in love
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𝓲.
“do you think if we met under better circumstances we would still be together?”
“yes.”
elias doesn’t even hesitate at your question and you feel you heart flutter at his confident answer.
“i would’ve asked you out regardless.”
you can’t help but grin.
“why?”
“i don’t want to sound creepy.” elias chuckles nervously and you join in his laughter in an attempt to soothe his nerves.
“come on just tell me, please.” you move closer to him on the couch and he places his arm around you.
“i thought you were really good looking and just my type. honestly if that bomb hadn’t gone off i probably would’ve gone home and thought about you till the next morning— i don’t know this sounds creepy.”
“no no it’s cute, i want to hear more.”
elias sighs in defeat before continuing.
“i don’t know something about you was just so eye catching. maybe it was the way you fidgeted with your fingers when you were waiting for a customer to come up for assistance or the way you adjusted your necklace like three different times in the same minute.”
“you really liked watching me huh?”
the obvious statement makes something in elias’ brain click. he’s never been so observant with anyone like this before, you’re the first that he’s ever been so invested in.
“yeah uh i guess i do.”
𝓲𝓲.
“you gotta stay still i’m not very good at this.”
you’ve been doing elias’ nails for at least a solid half hour, you keep seeming to mess up but thankfully elias seems to have the patience of a saint.
“you’re doing great. just take your time, i’m in no rush anyway.”
elias watches as you nod and continue carefully painting the black polish on his fingernails. with anyone else he would tell them to hurry up or just take over entirely, but once again with you it’s different.
he doesn’t feel the need to rush you or groan at the fact you’re taking so long to simply paint his nails. he should be getting upset and frustrated that such a simple thing as taken so long, but he can’t seem to care how long it takes while you’re here with him.
“okay i think that’s as good as they’re gonna get, i’m sorry i really tried.”
“nonsense they’re better than anything i could do.”
“really?”
he nods and for the next fifteen minutes elias explains how much he loves how well you did his nails. from how well the paint job is to the time you took to get it perfect just for him.
“you’re just saying that.”
“nah, i don’t like lying to you. i very much mean whatever i say to you.”
you feel your face grow warm at the honesty.
“thank you.”
𝓲𝓲𝓲.
you had been asleep on elias for over two hours now and elias himself just couldn’t find it in him to sleep as peacefully as you. he laid awake staring at the ceiling thinking about how much you’ve changed who his is. he started to wonder if maybe he had gotten too soft.
“elias..?”
your sleepy voice pulls elias out of his thoughts and he quickly looks down at you. he swears the image of you in that moment made his heart skip two beats. you look too cute, all sleepy with messy hair and your eyes barely opened. he clears his throat before speaking to you.
“what’s up? you okay?”
“nightmare.”
“i thought i felt you flinch awake. was it brewhouse again?” what else could it be? he thought to himself.
“it was just so loud, it startled me.”
“i get that, i’m right here if you need me.”
you move up to rest on the pillow with him instead of his chest and elias wraps his arm around your waist.
“i know, thank you.”
you close your eyes and rest your head a few inches away from his and elias watches as you fall back asleep.
he can’t help but lean his head against yours gently and decide to try to fall asleep once again.
he falls asleep with ease.
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made with a glitter gel pen✨
.love always <3 pearl
.masterlist
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