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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, Asmo's part is suggestive, 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, your 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 somethin’. 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 points 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 than 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 fizzled 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 behind you, 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 fades 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 a 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. He 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, begin to duet 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 Solomon’s 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 the 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 hips.

“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.”

Part 2 ->

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