babybeel

BITE ME BITE ME BITE ME BITE ME

[babybeel]

CASSIAN twenty one. any pronouns. carrd. interactions from @/manslutz.

CURRENTLY listening to i know it’s over - the smiths. thinking about biting beel.

QUICK LINKS masterlist. tags.

LATEST happy new year - satan. violent - mammon. your lips don’t lie - asmo.

HIGHLIGHTS say you’ll stay (never be severed) - all brothers. a song for you event.

!! all works posted belong to me unless stated otherwise. do not repost/plagiarise/modify in any way.

[sharkface]

They are already selling data to midjourney, and it's very likely your work is already being used to train their models because you have to OPT OUT of this, not opt in. Very scummy of them to roll this out unannounced.

[babybeel]

— happy new year

satan doesn’t get you. actually, from the slope of your nose to the peak of your lips to your every tiny eyelash, satan knows you better than anyone. rather, he doesn’t understand all your festivities.

halloween he had enjoyed. a big bowl of sweets he had stolen copious handfuls from, amused by your scolding as you hugged the container close to your chest. but dressing up with you, scaring people, had been the highlight, teeth bared and claws peeking through. satan had been beaming by the end of the night, eyes lit up in fun.

christmas had been ok. the food was warming and the atmosphere had been pleasant, despite mammon and leviathan’s inevitable brawl over presents. more than anything, satan had liked as the celebrations drew to a close and you had swaddled the pair of you into a blanket, curling up to his side as old films continued to blare on the telly.

but new year’s confused him. any attempt to make sense of the occasion left satan stumped, baffled as to why you’d cheer and commemorate the start of the year. demons lived significantly longer than humans, a couple centuries gone in the blink of an eye. so why humans had chosen to remember each year passing by made no sense, was it not simply a reminder of your own mortality?

nevertheless, satan wasn’t about to steal away your joy, happy to trail behind you, a squeeze to your hand every so often to offer support as the festivity went on. he shot a sharp glare at a lower demon once or twice, daring them to spoil the fun you’d planned, flashing a threatening snarl so they’d keep in line. and as your excitement began to spill out, earlier nerves subdued as all went according to plan, satan could only silently hope that his brothers would behave this time round.

and then the countdown started.

and it was satan’s turn to panic, heart sprouting wings that beat rapidly in his chest as you turned to face him, wide and content grin on your lips.

because the pair of you had made it through the year. you’d made it through satan’s outbursts, when his wrath would overwhelm him, and the suffocating sadness that followed after. he’d made it through your schemes, always seeming to find yourself in trouble, dragging him along with intertwined fingers. and you’d both made it through all the cheesy dates and comforting nights, limbs tangled together and somehow still aching to be closer.

with such memories in mind and a loud echo of “zero!” you pressed your lips to satan’s, attempting to show him all the love you’d shared over the last year and promising wordlessly that your future would never dull.

you pulled away with a tiny laugh, nothing but happiness filling you as you whispered “happy new year,” soft enough for only satan to hear. it took him a second to return the sentiment, and another to kiss you again. because even if he still didn’t entirely understand the celebration, satan knew he always wanted to start the new year with you.

[nazarbabe]

younger diavolo doodle

[babybeel]

— undisclosed

“satan?” your voice isn’t loud, hardly above a whisper. but it skews the night air all the same.

the demon peaks open a eye, watching as your stare roves over his figure despite your human eyes seeing poorly in the dark. it’s only when you let out a tiny sigh, more of an exhale than anything, that satan responds, a simple “yes?” as his arm wraps around your waist.

if you’d been surprised by satan’s abrupt answer, it doesn’t show, little smile settling on your lips as you move in closer, pressing against his body. “can’t sleep,” you hum, pausing thoughtfully before grinning wide, “tell me a secret?” a classic sleepover ask.

satan chuckles softly. he doesn’t know if it’s the adoration curving your lips or the way you’d shuffled his other brothers out of your room earlier that makes the words fly, but they’re light and airy nonetheless. “i think,” he murmurs gently, heart suddenly noticable as it pounds away, “you were my first friend.”

satan didn’t think it possible to grow any fonder of you, already pleased to help you whenever he can and press a kiss to your cheek when you offer an unneeded thanks. he’s even more pleased to be the subject of your affection. and the demon thinks you must know when you reach out in the darkness, patting blindly until you’re holding his cheek tenderly. he feels his chest swell with undoubted love.

thumbing your boyfriend’s face, your smile has grown tenfold. and if satan didn’t hold the knowledge that he’d caused it, he’d worry your lips would split. incentivised by your tender expression, he continues onwards, “my brothers are family, we care for each other despite it all. and everyone else i knew by association, i was always someone’s brother to them. but you saw me - really saw me - and liked me anyway.”

you can’t help it, surging forwards to kiss satan eagerly. it’s a little clumsy, lips wonky on his, but the both of you are more than content, pouring out affection that neither has the words to say. your shared pact marks glow a brilliant green, illuminating the room and casting soft shadows onto your tangled selves.

“i can see why mammon’s always calling himself my first man,” you giggle when satan huffs at the mention of his older brother after such a moment, “and i’m glad to be yours, because d’you want to know a secret?”

you don’t give satan time to answer, leaning your forehead against his, “you’re my favourite.”

and strong, unyielding, careful, satan loses his composure. your confession has a whine escaping his throat before he’s kissing you. over and over again, unable to get enough of you. secrets spilled into the midst of the night, you’re certain that too much of satan will never be enough either. 

[babybeel]

<- misses satan

[babybeel]

imy cass, hope you're doing well 🤍

hello my love! im so sorry for the late reply, ive been away on a research programme and just got back, but thank you so much for the wellwishes! i miss you and miss being on here so so much, i hope the day ahead is good for you too <3

[rashomonss]

Barbatos lore?!

I love how Solomon is narrating the story

finally more lore abt barbs

[babybeel]

just need to write for levi nd beel and my mlist will be filled

[babybeel]

asmo is my favourite brother to write a little fucked up :)

[babybeel]

— your lips don’t lie

title creds

fights with asmo always feel like a slap to the face, lust twisting into hideous displeasure. he shines a bright, vicious smile your way as sweet poison drips from his tongue and seeps into your skin. and his claws dig into the meat of your arms, never seeming to let go.

but you’d grown stubborn in your time in the devildom. stubborn and defiant and daring. all too used to being involved in dangerous quests and having to face the consequences for your thoughtless actions. so, when the corners of asmo’s lips begin to twitch upwards into something sick and sinister, you let your blunter teeth curl into a snarl and bare your own scathing words.

it’s an ugly fight, filled with savage looks and even crueller words. neither of you are willing to let the other have the last say, each sentence parried with growing harshness. and it’s only when lucifer emerges from his office, face holding all the trouble of a storm, that the both of you stalk back to your own rooms, feet stomping heavily against the floor.

brewing in your room, you know what asmo wants, what he expects: you - the pitiful, fragile human - apologising. better yet, on your knees at his feet, begging for forgiveness.

because asmodeus, avatar of lust, does not say sorry. he’s never had to, with a trail of adoring fans always climbing over each other to get his attention, always wanting more, more, more, so long as it got them closer to the demon. any issues and he’d turn to his next plaything, bumbling attempts to amend only half heard. asmodeus hadn’t even had to charm them. and yet, he couldn’t charm you. the bitterness of that truth had long been tucked away under his skin, pulsing beneath his veins.

“you’re different,” asmo had hummed in the midst of the night, limbs tangled with your own, hidden away beneath plush blankets. and you were, are. you adore the devildom, almost as much as the realm loves you in return, inhabitants immediately taken by you during the exchange programme. you adore his brothers, seven pact marks decorating your body for no small reason, though never once exploiting their powers or their inherent sin. and you adore him, in such a way that made asmo afraid of tripping and falling, afraid to play with you and cause you hurt as he had done to so many others.

asmodeus is soon reminded of his compliment, now causing a frown to settle upon his lips than a smile, previously sticky with fondness. come morning, you’re already sat at the dining table when asmo enters the room, looking much more presentable than the demon had hoped.

you meet asmo’s eyes with a steely gaze, refusing to share even a drop of emotion for him to recognise. it makes asmo purse his lips ever so slightly as his frustration gets the better hand over him, just for a split second. but it’s enough, and you hide your smile by taking another sip of your blood strawberry juice.

you finish your breakfast quickly, not letting your attention flicker to asmo again during the meal. and it’s only when you grin a “thank you” to belphie who’s on dish duty for the day, before linking arms with satan to head off to rad, that asmo loosens his grip on his knife and fork. you’re different.

the first change comes five days into your continued disregard of all things asmodeus. a giftbox sits in front of your bedroom door, tag advertising luscious soaps and candied lotions with more nourishing properties than you can begin to understand. you leave the present there, your silent treatment persists.

you hate to admit it but your will chips away with each gift - sweet perfumes gone unsmelt and silky clothes left unworn. and it’s only when a small mountain has formed in the hallway that you finally cave.

picking up the smallest box from the extravagant pile, you gaze at the tube of lipstick. simpler than you’d expected, but costly no doubt if the brand was anything to go by. back in the comfort of your own room and facing a mirror, you press it to your lips, painting them a deep red that you can’t help but admire. asmo always did know what you’d best suit, what you’d best like.

but if there’s one thing you knew about asmo, it was his cunning. he’s slyer than his brothers with tricky thoughts and a devious facade, able to widen his eyes and push forward his chest in all the right ways. because no sooner are your lips coloured crimson do they begin to sear.

your breath quickens at the sensation, lips burning hot. your chest is heaving in panic, fingers swiping at your mouth desperately, half ready to claw away at the terrible feeling.

but it’s too late.

because asmo had decided you’re different, and if you wanted to resort to not speaking to him, you’d not speak at all. lips sealed shut, a muffled scream echoes through the house of lamentation. sharp, threatening smirk returned, asmo wonders how long to wait before he tells you all it takes is a kiss for the curse to break - and how long to wait before he gives in to your wordless pleas.

[babybeel]

— violent

“shut the fuck up! you don’t know what you’re saying, shut up!”

your voice is thick with anger as it bounces off the walls, bitterness echoing through. mammon feels his blood boil before he can even see you, hoping for the best though fearing the worst. his talons have begun to peak through, sharp claws digging into the meat of his palms as his hands close into tight fists, and he feels his shoulder blades stiffen as his wings strain and ache against his shirt.

rounding the corner, the older brothers bear witness to you shouting at a group of lowly demons, teeth bared and gaze sharp. your pacts are glowing, piercing through the night as you let loose, emotions controlling you. beelzebub stands protectively in front of you, expression vicious though solemn, and belphegor holds a wary arm before you, though his tail whips behind him in similar anger. the brothers wonder with churning stomachs just what had been said.

“oh look,” one of the lesser demons dares to sneer, clearly thinking high of itself as a ugly smirk rises onto its face, having caught sight of the others, “maybe the avatar of greed isn’t so stupid after all, he can come when called. though, you better put him on a leash before he wanders off and fucks everything up again.”

the brothers don’t bother to hide their demon forms any longer, turning into a fearsome flurry of wings and fangs and claws. lucifer takes a furious stride forward, ready to quash anyone who insulted his younger brother and a terrifying aura rolls off of him in suffocating waves.

you beat him to it.

“sounds like you’re stupid, so thick you can’t even listen when someone tells you to shut your fucking mouth,” you snarl, entire body pushing against belphie’s arm, “you’ll never be worth a shred of what mammon is. he’s not an avatar for nothing. he’s reliable and dependable - he completes his duties, protects his brothers through everything and takes care of me too. you dare speak about mammon whilst you’re trying to amount to anything and i promise i’ll be there to stop you getting anywhere near his level.”

your breath is ragged when you finish, venomous threat weighing heavy in the air. you finally take a step back from belphie’s hold, decidedly having said enough. still, your expression doesn’t relax, eyes fierce and teeth on show.

the group of lesser demons begin to cower, shuffling uncomfortably as their ringleader swallows thickly, suddenly realising what it’d done as your severe words sink into its skin and the seven avatars of sin surround you. it opens and closes its mouth a handful of times, lower lip quivering as its earlier confidence abandons it. it’s only a second after that the demons scramble away, feet panicked as they slap against the floor. they’re slower than the avatars that follow them.

a call of your name dissolves the remaining tension, gentle and familiar and only just above a whisper.

“oh, mammon,” you turn, eyes softening at the only brother who remained with you. “oh, my mammon,” you murmur again, wrapping yourself around his torso, as tight as you possibly can. his open arms quickly return the hold, your body still trembling ever so slightly against his. but the anger soon gives way to relief and mammon lets out a sigh of his own as it floods through his pact.

“it’s ok,” mammon hushes, “i’m ok.”

against your every fibre, you pull back and the loss of your cheek against mammon’s chest leaves him uncomfortably cold. your hands snake up to cup his face, stark tenderness so blatant it’s hard to picture that you had been snarling and spitting a few minutes ago. “you sure?” you ask, staring straight into mammon’s eyes that glimmer gold at the contact.

mammon nods, taking the chance to lean into your touch, “course i am, you and my brothers look after me too. i’m your first man and you’re my first human.”

“you promise?” your tone is adamant and unrelenting, despite how mammon’s words had left you melty warm.

mammon lets the smile break onto his lips, lets your hands pull him downwards until your foreheads are pressed against each other. “promise,” he hums, “i’m ok as long as i’ve got you.”

[babybeel]

if you support ai work (in any form, be it art or writing) pls unfollow me!

[babybeel]

— violent

“shut the fuck up! you don’t know what you’re saying, shut up!”

your voice is thick with anger as it bounces off the walls, bitterness echoing through. mammon feels his blood boil before he can even see you, hoping for the best though fearing the worst. his talons have begun to peak through, sharp claws digging into the meat of his palms as his hands close into tight fists, and he feels his shoulder blades stiffen as his wings strain and ache against his shirt.

rounding the corner, the older brothers bear witness to you shouting at a group of lowly demons, teeth bared and gaze sharp. your pacts are glowing, piercing through the night as you let loose, emotions controlling you. beelzebub stands protectively in front of you, expression vicious though solemn, and belphegor holds a wary arm before you, though his tail whips behind him in similar anger. the brothers wonder with churning stomachs just what had been said.

“oh look,” one of the lesser demons dares to sneer, clearly thinking high of itself as a ugly smirk rises onto its face, having caught sight of the others, “maybe the avatar of greed isn’t so stupid after all, he can come when called. though, you better put him on a leash before he wanders off and fucks everything up again.”

the brothers don’t bother to hide their demon forms any longer, turning into a fearsome flurry of wings and fangs and claws. lucifer takes a furious stride forward, ready to quash anyone who insulted his younger brother and a terrifying aura rolls off of him in suffocating waves.

you beat him to it.

“sounds like you’re stupid, so thick you can’t even listen when someone tells you to shut your fucking mouth,” you snarl, entire body pushing against belphie’s arm, “you’ll never be worth a shred of what mammon is. he’s not an avatar for nothing. he’s reliable and dependable - he completes his duties, protects his brothers through everything and takes care of me too. you dare speak about mammon whilst you’re trying to amount to anything and i promise i’ll be there to stop you getting anywhere near his level.”

your breath is ragged when you finish, venomous threat weighing heavy in the air. you finally take a step back from belphie’s hold, decidedly having said enough. still, your expression doesn’t relax, eyes fierce and teeth on show.

the group of lesser demons begin to cower, shuffling uncomfortably as their ringleader swallows thickly, suddenly realising what it’d done as your severe words sink into its skin and the seven avatars of sin surround you. it opens and closes its mouth a handful of times, lower lip quivering as its earlier confidence abandons it. it’s only a second after that the demons scramble away, feet panicked as they slap against the floor. they’re slower than the avatars that follow them.

a call of your name dissolves the remaining tension, gentle and familiar and only just above a whisper.

“oh, mammon,” you turn, eyes softening at the only brother who remained with you. “oh, my mammon,” you murmur again, wrapping yourself around his torso, as tight as you possibly can. his open arms quickly return the hold, your body still trembling ever so slightly against his. but the anger soon gives way to relief and mammon lets out a sigh of his own as it floods through his pact.

“it’s ok,” mammon hushes, “i’m ok.”

against your every fibre, you pull back and the loss of your cheek against mammon’s chest leaves him uncomfortably cold. your hands snake up to cup his face, stark tenderness so blatant it’s hard to picture that you had been snarling and spitting a few minutes ago. “you sure?” you ask, staring straight into mammon’s eyes that glimmer gold at the contact.

mammon nods, taking the chance to lean into your touch, “course i am, you and my brothers look after me too. i’m your first man and you’re my first human.”

“you promise?” your tone is adamant and unrelenting, despite how mammon’s words had left you melty warm.

mammon lets the smile break onto his lips, lets your hands pull him downwards until your foreheads are pressed against each other. “promise,” he hums, “i’m ok as long as i’ve got you.”

[babybeel]

:o how far are u in om? i havent met the new charas yet !

literally the lesson after they got introduced m sorry

[lvlcurrent]

had a dream where he was very flustered !!

[0beyme]

The way Levi keeps breaking and mending Satan’s heart for the silliest things.