The name came out as an exasperated sigh. Even in your groggy, barely awake state, you could tell something was wrong. Something rigid was propped against your back. Despite your best efforts to ignore it, the item shifted every minute or two.
You asked, "Are you using me as a book stand?"
There was silence, as though Satan was also asleep. You couldn't see him behind you, but you knew he was awake. He just turned a page 20 seconds ago. You felt it.
You pressed for an answer by adding, "Again?"
"...No."
You begrudgingly rolled over so you could at least look Satan in the eye while he lied to your face.
"A-ah! Wait," he panicked. Too little, too late.
Pages of his new novel were crushed out of shape under your weight and the book's pointy spine dug into your shoulder blade. It was thicker than you thought and made for a horrible back pillow. You winced and scooted closer to Satan, nosing your face into his chest while elbowing the book away until it teetered on the edge the bed.
Satan wrapped his arms around you lovingly and rubbed the fresh sore spot on your back while he grumbled, "I just bought that this morning."
If somᥱoᥒᥱ wᥱrᥱ to dᥱscribᥱ him to ყou, thᥱყ would ᥲlmost cᥱrtᥲiᥒlყ mᥱᥒtioᥒ thᥲt Sᥲtᥲᥒ is obsᥱssᥱd with gᥲiᥒiᥒg kᥒowlᥱdgᥱ, ᥲᥒd lovᥱd books for ᥲll thᥱ thiᥒgs thᥱყ tᥲught him.
Whᥲt ყou didᥒ’t thiᥒk mᥲᥒყ pᥱoplᥱ would kᥒow wᥲs thᥲt hᥱ likᥱd ᥲll kiᥒds of kᥒowlᥱdgᥱ, bᥱყoᥒd thᥱ pᥲgᥱs. For iᥒstᥲᥒcᥱ, hᥱ wᥲs currᥱᥒtlყ pickiᥒg ᥲ lock for ყou bᥱcᥲusᥱ ყou lost thᥱ kᥱყ to ყour drᥲwᥱr. His hᥲir tusslᥱd with ᥱᥲch push ᥲᥒd pull, occᥲsioᥒᥲllყ lᥱttiᥒg ᥲ fiᥒgᥱr push his glᥲssᥱs bᥲck up thᥱ bridgᥱ of his ᥒosᥱ.
“You’rᥱ rᥱᥲllყ full of surprisᥱs somᥱtimᥱs.” ყou sᥲყ, tiltiᥒg ყour hᥱᥲd slightlყ iᥒ ᥲmusᥱmᥱᥒt.
“I’d rᥲthᥱr bᥱ full of surprisᥱs thᥲᥒ bᥱ full of mყsᥱlf.” Sᥲtᥲᥒ puffᥱd his chᥱᥱk ᥲftᥱr his rᥱtort, squiᥒtiᥒg slightlყ iᥒ focus, slightlყ iᥒ pridᥱ ᥲt thᥱ dig ᥲt Lucifᥱr. His forᥱᥲrm gᥱᥒtlყ pullᥱd thᥱ drᥲwᥱr opᥱᥒ, rᥱvᥱᥲliᥒg spoils of cᥲᥒdყ wrᥲppᥱrs (lᥱft bყ Bᥱᥱl) ᥲᥒd hᥲlf ᥲ dᥱck of cᥲrds (from Mᥲmmoᥒ’s lᥲst bᥱt with ყou, which didᥒ’t ᥱᥒd iᥒ his fᥲvour).
“Aᥒd I’d ᥲlso rᥲthᥱr bᥱ full of plᥱᥲsᥲᥒt surprisᥱs, iᥒstᥱᥲd of whᥲtᥱvᥱr this littlᥱ… stᥲsh of ყours is.” Plᥲciᥒg his hᥲᥒds oᥒ his thighs to rᥲisᥱ himsᥱlf from his crouchiᥒg positioᥒ, hᥱ crossᥱd thᥱm ᥒᥱᥲtlყ ᥲᥒd shot ყou ᥲ clᥱvᥱr littlᥱ smilᥱ, his lᥱft cᥲᥒiᥒᥱ slightlყ pᥱᥱkiᥒg pᥲst his lip.
“Whᥲt wᥱrᥱ ყou hopiᥒg for?” You rᥲisᥱ ყour brows, ᥲ gliᥒt of humour oᥒ ყour lips.
Glidiᥒg his iᥒdᥱx fiᥒgᥱr ᥲcross thᥱ dᥱck of cᥲrds, hᥱ tᥲps thᥱm oᥒto thᥱ wood ᥲᥒd bᥱgiᥒs to shufflᥱ thᥱ cᥲrds iᥒ ᥲ bᥱᥲutiful wᥲყ. “Not surᥱ, rᥱᥲllყ,” hᥱ ᥲdmits, ᥱყᥱs oᥒ thᥱ cᥲrds wᥲftiᥒg ᥲir bᥱtwᥱᥱᥒ his hᥲᥒds. Hᥱ glᥲᥒcᥱs ᥲt ყour ᥱყᥱs, which ᥲrᥱ fixᥲtᥱd oᥒ his movᥱmᥱᥒts. “Nᥱvᥱr sᥱᥱᥒ somᥱoᥒᥱ shufflᥱ cᥲrds bᥱforᥱ?” Thᥱ cᥲrds cᥲscᥲdᥱ.
Hᥱ bliᥒks twicᥱ iᥒ quick succᥱssioᥒ, sᥱᥱmiᥒglყ flᥲttᥱrᥱd, ᥒo loᥒgᥱr shuffliᥒg thᥱ cᥲrds. “Ah, wᥱll…” Hᥱ glᥲᥒcᥱs sidᥱwᥲყs, “It’s ᥒot ᥲ full dᥱck, othᥱrwisᥱ it’d probᥲblყ look much coolᥱr,” hᥱ gloᥲts, strᥲightᥱᥒiᥒg his bᥲck ᥲᥒd puttiᥒg thᥱ cᥲrds dowᥒ. Hᥲᥒd rᥱstiᥒg oᥒ thᥱ dᥱsk, hᥱ puts ᥲ fiᥒgᥱr just bᥱlow his lip, ᥲs if to show coᥒsidᥱrᥲtioᥒ of somᥱthiᥒg.
“I doubt ყou could rᥱᥲllყ gᥱt ᥲᥒყ coolᥱr, whᥲt with ᥲll thᥱsᥱ ᥒiftყ littlᥱ tricks of ყours.” You tᥲkᥱ ᥲ stᥱp towᥲrds him, gᥱᥒtlყ iᥒtᥱrlᥲciᥒg ყour fiᥒgᥱrs through his to tᥲkᥱ thᥱ cᥲrds. Hᥱ brᥱᥲthᥱs iᥒ. You plᥲcᥱ thᥱ dᥱck iᥒto ყour drᥲwᥱr, opᥱᥒiᥒg ᥲᥒd shuttiᥒg it without words ᥱxchᥲᥒgᥱd bᥱtwᥱᥱᥒ thᥱ two of ყou. Your ᥲrm brushᥱs pᥲst his wᥲist. Hᥱ hᥲs ყᥱt to brᥱᥲthᥱ out. Hᥱ lᥱᥲᥒs bᥲck, forᥱᥲrm flᥱxᥱd ᥲs hᥱ prᥱssᥱs ᥲgᥲiᥒst thᥱ dᥱsk.
“I kᥒow ᥲll kiᥒds of tricks. I’m surᥱ ყou’d likᥱ to sᥱᥱ.” Attᥱmptiᥒg to rᥱgᥲiᥒ his composurᥱ, hᥱ fiᥒᥲllყ tᥲkᥱs ᥲ brᥱᥲth out ᥲloᥒg with his sᥱᥒtᥱᥒcᥱ. Glᥲᥒciᥒg ᥲt ყou mᥲkᥱs him ᥒᥱrvous - ᥱspᥱciᥲllყ whᥱᥒ ყou hᥲvᥱ thᥲt littlᥱ gliᥒt iᥒ ყour ᥱყᥱs. His ᥲdᥲm ᥲpplᥱ bobs, ᥲ blush crᥱᥱpiᥒg oᥒto his ᥱᥲrs.
“Miᥒd showiᥒg mᥱ?”
//489 words. Oh how I lovᥱ ყou Sᥲtᥲᥒ, mყ cutᥱ littlᥱ boყ <3
It's your wedding day with Leviathan. Everyone you hold dear is in attendance, and everything is absolutely perfect. You've just finished your vows. It's time to seal everything with a kiss.
Leviathan is nervous, but determined. He grabs you by the shoulders before he leans in for the kiss. His grip on you is strong, but not painful.
"Relax, dude!" Mammon shouts at him from the first row of pews. "You're already at the altar, they ain't gonna run away!"
I just want to post this and say: SATAN'S CHARACTER DESIGN IN A NEW GAME, I LOST MY MIND FOR A MOMENT, AND SCREAM AS IF I JUST GOT OUT FROM ASYLUM, LOOK AT MY GORGEOUS, STUNNING, BEAUTIFUL HUSBAND. Thank you.
pretty much just crack imo but it can be read seriously, too, MC has major aura here
vaguely inspired by this post from @mammomlette here
Enjoy guys 😛
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
"MC? What are your thoughts on this?" Diavolo asked for the first time in an hour.
The student council had been discussing bringing more humans over for the exchange program, and were genuinely considering more humans with no connections to magic whatsoever.
You had tried to speak up on how bad of an idea it was to kidnap even more humans but had been cut off multiple times. You're pretty sure Barbatos recognised your frustration by the half hour mark, but decided to keep quiet assuredly just to torture you from the look in his eyes.
It was only when you started twisting at the Ring of Light did he slowly approach Diavolo, leaned down and whispered something in his ear. The Prince's eyes widened and his smile too a more nervous turn as he asked you the one question he should've from the get go.
"I think it's stupid," You spoke bluntly, relishing in that brief twitch of Lucifer's eye. "They'd be in danger, and I highly doubt not everyone has hidden powers that cause an uproar in all three realms." You waved the hand the Ring of Light rested apon, whether they viewed the gesture as an extremely vague threat or not was up to the Demons.
Diavolo let out a hearty laugh, "Well, that is true, but dont you believe it'd be more effective if more than one aspect of humanity came into contact with the Devildom?"
You let out a long sigh and stared down at the Ring of Light. "Diavolo, if you do choose to go with this I cannot stop you, but it isstill possible to connect with the human world through humans that already practice magic," The brothers looked at eachother as your voice got more serious. Solomon would probably cry tears of joy and start raving on about his apprentice at what you said next.
"But, keep in mind that if you do choose to kidnap more powerless humans, Solomon and I might be inclined to take on the roles of humanities protectors." You said only then looking up from the Ring of Light then, the faintest spark of magic flashing in your eyes. Even Mammon could miss it if he wasn't careful.
The room was stunned into silence. Only the quiet sound of the grandfather clock ticking back and forth was heard.
With the way Barbatos looked, you almost wanted to say even he was a little shocked. He recovered the quickest though, and coughed quietly into a closed fist to get Diavolo to snap out of it.
"I... I see," he muttered before returning to his usual smile, if only a little smaller than before. "If you feel that strongly about it, we can certainly attempt to find Humans with pre-established connections to magic."
You let out a breath you didn't realise you'd been holding in, then smiled warmly, thankful you hadn't just gotten humanity involved in a war against Demon kind. "Okay then, lets discuss that, then."
After thinking about it a bit more, I think I would not get along with Satan irl because he's the kind of guy who wouldn't realise I was making a joke. he simply would assume I'm stupid, and then he'd be so sad that I act so flat and uninterested around him and it would take him too long to connect the dots on how we got to this situation.
Me: this kills the man!
Satan: Reminder that Mammons is a demon and will unfortunately be completely fine.
Me: *extended sigh*
___
(More below. This has almost become a ficlet holy cow)
Me at the water tap: it's vodka time
Satan: you... do... know... what vodka tastes like... right?
Me: *dead fish stare* yeah.
Lucifer: I'm impressed, you managed to score even higher than Satan on the latest test.
___
Me, bitterly: yeah yeah, you're all shocked and surprised that I'm actually smart. Fucking hell.
Lucifer, mildly shocked and suddenly understanding: ah, you don't enjoy being underestimated. I've been wondering why you and Satan haven't been getting along.
Me, sighing: I can't even joke around him.
Lucifer: that is unfortunate. You can be quite enjoyable to converse with.
Me: I know, right? Can't wait to see his face later. Is the asshole gonna try and say that I cheated.... fuck, maybe.
Lucifer, mysteriously (like he knows something that me and Satan don't): hmm
___
Satan: you cheated in the test, didn't you?
Me, about to blow a gasket, and also calmly: Wow, I can't believe I called it. You're a horrible loser.
Satan: wh-
Me: I'm not sticking around while you rationalise a fantasy where I'm not even smart enough to deserve basic courtesy. Move.
___
Satan: Asmo, I think I need your help
Asmo: you really do. You've been a walking disaster for months.
Satan: I'm not talking about fashion.
Asmo: I'm not either! Your clothes have been a problem for half a millennium at this point. I've given up honestly. But listen! You've been making a complete mess of things with our human.
Satan: Surely it hasn't been that long... I know they're mad at me but it was just about the test
Asmo: it's never just about the... I can't believe I have such a stupid brother.
Satan: Oi!
Asmo: No! Sit and listen! Do you really think you wore through their patience with *one* sentence?
Satan: ... it could have been months of dealing with all of us.
Asmo: They're pretty, they're smart, and they're also pretty funny. And - don't look at me like that, *I've seen* how you react to their jokes! You always take what they say at face value and assume you need to correct them!
Asmo, continuing: Do you know what message that sends? Hmm? I'll tell you. It tells them that you don't think they're smart at all!
Your shirt rises up when you reach up to grab a plate on the top shelf of the cupboard. A sliver of your skin peaks out.
Satan jerks his head away, almost violently so. Despite being a demon, he considers himself to have, at the very least, common decency. Only idiots like Mammon would have the gall to stare at someone so unabashedly like that.
Still, Satan’s eyes can’t help but wander over to your figure, who is still trying to grab that blasted plate. Your shirt has risen higher now. It gives him the opportunity to soak in the delicious divot of your hip and—
Satan suddenly becomes interested in the fruit bowl on the counter. There’s a banana. It’s beginning to brown. Someone should eat it soon.
Yes.
“That bowl must be fascinating.”
Satan flinches. You’re standing in front of him now. The plate is triumphantly nestled in your hands. You grin at him, and, for the first time in his life, Satan’s mind goes blank.
“Someone should eat that banana soon,” he offers weakly.
You giggle. The sound fills up the kitchen effortlessly. “I’ll let Beel know.”
“Got it.”
“Also, the next time you decide to check me out,” you say, not even trying to cover up your cocky smile, “commit to it.”
