I like writing things | fandoms: katekyo hitman reborn, wind breaker, touken ranbu, obey me, sakamoto days and more | she/her | 18+ | Header credits goes to @mintyminie0 on Instagram!
(very sorry to those who are expecting obey me content... they will come. eventually. promise.)
nothing is ever as helpful in getting me to write as a looming deadline that's somewhat far away... not that i've written anything that can be seen by others. but i have been brainrotting a dragon!au for the past week, so here are some ideas because i seriously need to yap. (eventually, this will also be written as a full story. one day. trust.)
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Sakura Haruka, Suo Hayato, and Kaji Ren centric
cw: blood, suggestive(?) but sfw; not proofread
A long, long time ago, when humans were still hunting dragons, some humans gained special powers from drinking dragon blood. However, those special powers were only good for helping dragons—stabilizing their shapeshifting abilities, increasing their max potential, curbing their madness, and so on.
Seeing this, a portion of dragons who seeked peace and a potential increase to their own strength sought out the humans and reached an agreement. The humans who gained special powers, called Guides, would offer their services to dragons, but in exchange, they would have to live in human society under human laws. Of course, the humans also stopped hunting dragons. This agreement continues even to this day.
Since dragons are capable of shifting into a human form, they eventually integrated into human society. Some dragons even started families with humans, creating hybrids who have some combination of draconic traits as opposed to full dragons. Full dragons are born in their dragon form, before shifting to hybrid-looking form after reaching 3-5 years old. Then, when they start puberty, they're able to fully shift into a human.
Guides are taught that they are duty bound to bond with at least one dragon, but it isn't enforced by law. Bonding can only occur when the Guide and the dragon both agree to it, and they would need to ingest each other's blood, tears or scales/hair to officially bond. When a Guide and dragon bond, the Guide shares some of the dragon's abilities.
It's also possible for a Guide to bond with multiple dragons, and a dragon with multiple Guides. However, the latter is uncommon.
When a pair bonds, a mark appears on each other's body.
Makochi is known as "the town protected by dragons." 'Bofurin' in this case not only refers to the wind chimes, but also how the dragons break the wind with the beating of their wings. Not many cities are known to be protected by dragons, seeing as dragons are somewhat discriminated against. It's not something that's obvious, as most people are accepting of them, but we know how humans are.
Furin Academy accepts only dragons, hybrids, and Guides. They provide a socialization and culture class for Guides so that they can become more familiarized with dragons, their behavioral patterns, their habits, their biology, what exactly their Guide duty would entail, etc. (But as for the rest of the school, it quite resembles Furin High in the original.)
Your mother sent you away from home to give you some breathing space, so you ended up attending Furin Academy as a Guide. It didn't take long for you to quickly become acquainted with Sakura and Suo, and eventually Kaji as well.
Sakura was a late bloomer. It took him longer than usual to grow out of the dragon hatchling phase, and even after he started puberty, he couldn't manage to fully shift into a human, leaving behind a long, spilt colored tail. He hated it except for when it would help him win fights. But just as he has trouble shifting completely into human form, he also has trouble shifting completely into dragon form. He's been stuck with only a tail for years.
Suo and Kaji, both full dragons as well, have no issues with shifting. But Suo rarely ever shifts completely into a dragon. At most, you would only ever see either his tail or his wings. Kaji doesn't care. He'd be in whichever form that's most convenient.
Dragons' tails are like another limb for them. For Sakura, who has been stuck with his tail out for years, his tail has become another way to tell his mood. When he's surprised, it tenses straight up, like an exclamation mark. Flustered, his tail starts to move in 'S' shapes. And if he's really happy or excited about something, his tail wags just like a dog's. It's adorable. Even if others point it out, his tail will still unconsciously do the motions.
Suo uses his tail sometimes in favor of his hands and arms. When you are close enough to him, he tends to wrap his tail around some part of you. For example, when you two are walking together down the street, if you're about to run into someone or if someone's about to bump into you, his tail would snake around your waist and gently pull you closer to him with that same gentle smile on his face. Sometimes, if you are having a meal with the Furin boys, Suo's tail would wrap itself around your ankle, rubbing against you once in a while as if to remind you of his presence.
When Kaji doesn't want you to get lost or when he's walking too fast, you hold his tail as if you're holding his hand. It would look like you're walking him, if it isn't for how you hurry to catch up to his steps as he strides ahead, his platinum blond tail wrapped tightly around your hand. But when he sleeps, he's curled around you, his tail tucking your entire body against his.
When you and Sakura bond, he's finally able to control his shifting. He can't believe at it first, watching his tail disappear and reappear continuously until he finally turns to you with an expression bordering on tears, his brows scrunched, his lips pressed tightly together, and his eyes misty with disbelief. He looks so lost and yet so relieved that you can't help but hug him. He sniffs once and trembles in your arm.
The core of a mark is called the "seed." Your mark—wisteria flowers and thin vines—seeds on Sakura's right upper arm, around his biceps, and it eventually spreads down his arm until it stops at the back of his hand, one stray vine curling around the base of his middle finger. Whenever he runs his hand through his hair, the pink-purple petals would catch your attention. It's worse when his sleeves slip down, revealing more of your mark. He's already really pretty, and with the mark running down his arm, it adds something to him that you can't quite name but drives you crazy all the same. What is it, he asks when he catches you staring, tilting his head, and if you had any less self-control, you would have already trace the mark a million times and watch as Sakura's face bloom bright red.
Suo's isn't any better—his mark placement, that is. It seeded over his heart, but it expanded upwards on his left, creeping up his neck until just a tendril poked past his jawline. Whenever he's turning his head, whenever he talks—hell, even when he isn't talking, he knows you're staring at him. How can he not, when your eyes are burning holes into him? It's partially his fault, really. His posture is always straight and neat, his neck never entirely hidden even when he's wearing his changshans, which gives you a direct view to the way his neck flexed, as if taunting you. And to add salt to injury, he always smiles teasingly at you, purposefully tilting his head to reveal more of the mark. One day, you swear as you smile back at him, you'll bite into his throat and see how much he likes it then.
For better or worse, Kaji's mark seeded on the back of his neck. And when it grew, it grew downwards, spreading across his back like wings. His mark is something that's easily hidden, considering how much he likes to wear his hoodies, and you easily forget that he has a mark in the first place until the moment he takes off his hoodie and shirt. Since you always forget, every time you do get to see his bare back and how your mark claimed that space, you splutter and inch closer and closer to having a heart attack. As if he knows the effect he has on you, Kaji would always take his clothes off by yanking the back of his collar, revealing his thin but toned back first. And it's always his back facing you. Is he trying to kill you?
But bonding with Kaji has helped him tremendously. Guides generally smelled much nicer to dragons and hybrids, although there isn't a specific scent that can describe it since it's different for every Guide. As far as you understand, Guides usually smell comforting, and their scent helps soothe any mental agaitation that may come from their madness or any other source. So when a lollipop didn't help Kaji much in calming him down, he would seek you out with a glower on his face, wrapping his tail around your waist as he buries his face into the crook of your neck. He naturally gets annoyed more easily, but you're sure his kind's inherent susceptibility to madness doesn't help him much either. But it isn't like you mind. Pressing a kiss into his hair, you pat him until he's ready to let you go.
-- -- -- -- -- --
they're all my little meow meows, your honor!
i have some more ideas marinating in my brain swamp, but who knows when this will end up in a coherent story. i really wanted to get this out in the world though, because dragon!au has so much potential. imagining sakura when he was a cute baby dragon? suo with a slit pupil and the usual dragon territorialness?? kaji with tail, wings, horns??? please. please. someone tell me i'm not delusional.
thank you for coming to my ted talk. i'll go back into my cave now.
(if people are curious for more, i have answers to some questions regarding this au.)
i also just saw this in my inbox, omg i am so sorry 😭😭😭 thank you so much (despite being ~9 months late asjkdl) i really appreciate your comment, and i hope that despite my lateness to everything, this msg reaches back to you
(but i am still writing... just unbelievably slow since im applying for a masters rn 😭😭)
Hi 👋, My name is Mohammad, and I’m reaching out in a moment of desperate need. I’m a father of three young children living in Gaza, and we are caught in the midst of a catastrophic war. Our home is no longer a safe haven, and the future here seems increasingly uncertain. 💔
I’ve launched a fundraising campaign with the goal of raising $60,000 to relocate my family to a safer place where my children can grow up in peace and have a chance at a brighter future.
Unfortunately, my previous fundraising efforts were abruptly halted when my account was terminated without explanation. However, I remain determined to keep fighting for my family’s safety and well-being. 🫶
If you could take a moment to read our story, consider donating, or simply share our campaign with others, it would make an incredible difference. Every act of kindness, no matter how small, brings us one step closer to safety and a new beginning. 🙏
Thank you for your time, compassion, and support. ❤️🩹
“Thank you for inviting me. I really needed this.”
The sound of crystallization twinkled around you, gently melding with the waves from the lake. It almost resembled music, if not for the organic pacing. There was no rhythm or beat, just the creation and breaking of crystals according to the laws of nature. They would form in clusters, then, as if pushed over an edge, they would shatter and fall into the water, yet moments later, a new bud would grow, undeterred by its flexible and flimsy surface.
“Of course, I’m glad I could provide you with a chance to rest. It isn’t easy to live with the brothers.”
The gazebo was small, neat and tight against the edge of the lake, but it was beautifully designed and sculpted with elegant frames curving upwards to support the glass roof. If it weren’t for Barbatos telling you about it, you wouldn’t even have known there was a roof to begin with. Although it looked like it came straight from a fairytale, you felt a little out of place, like you were too mundane, too simple for such an elegant place that held so much history.
Looking up, the eternal Devildom sky and its many stars winked back at you. You felt like some sort of royalty sitting at this expensive table, sipping your drink like you owned everything in this garden, despite the true owner sitting across from you at this very moment.
“Your drink is delicious too,” you said, looking at the round, lowball glass in your hands. Your eyes traveled up a little further, past the snow globe sitting at the center, and then reaching Barbatos’ hands—empty.
He smiled at you when you met his eyes.
“Where is your drink?” you asked, realizing how empty it was on his side of the table. Even though he carted over a whole tray of various sweets that, after taking a closer look, you found were all your favorites, he merely interlocked his fingers and watched you.
“I’ve already tasted it,” he said simply. His expression unchanging, he reached over to set one of the sweets next to you. “I believe this dessert goes extremely well with this drink. Why don’t you try it?”
You refused to look at it. “That’s not the point, Barbatos.”
“Oh?” Barbatos, who was in the middle of leaning back into his seat, paused, and turned to you, making such intense eye contact despite how mild his expression was that you forgot to breathe for just a second. So mild, so unreadable, you could only begin to guess at his thoughts. “That’s not the point?”
“No, no it isn’t,” you said firmly. “The point is that I can’t be the only one eating and drinking here, especially since you are the host. You’ve already done so much for me.”
Even if you felt just a smidge like royalty, that didn’t mean you let it get to your head.
As you began to push some of the sweets towards him, he laughed—a deep, warm sound that made your heart flutter more than it should have, and what made it worse was the gloved hand that covered yours as he stopped you. Even through the fabric, you felt the heat seeping through, and you stilled, now focused entirely on the shape of his hand.
“While I did invite you so that you could have a break, I actually had something to ask of you as well,” Barbatos said, again with that same smile you’ve seen so many times before. You bit your lips, eyes flitting between his hand on top of yours and his dark olive eyes. “It’s nothing serious, just a curiosity of mine.”
“What is it?”
With his free hand, he took the snow globe sitting at the center of the table and pressed it into yours, clasping your hands along with the snow globe.
Barbatos… his hands… holding? Mine??
Pulling away with a soft squeeze, as if he could sense how distracted you were, he chuckled and called your name. “Do you know what this is?”
Yes, this is called “holding hands!” you almost blurted out, but if you did, not only would he be disappointed in your intelligence, he probably would never hold a meeting with you again, much less your hands. Whatever remained of your rationality kept your mouth tightly shut.
You peered into the transparent globe. This snow globe was relatively simple in terms of decoration, having only a small pink sheep curled up in the middle that slept peacefully among the snow. But because it had been picked up earlier, some of the snow flew up and was now settling down again, covering the sheep with sprinkles of white.
It was such an adorable snow globe, you couldn’t help thinking. You wondered where Barbatos got it from, and if you could get one as well to put on your desk.
“It’s just a snow globe,” you said, handing it back to him. “Why do you ask? These are pretty common.”
When he accepted the globe, the warm fabric of his gloves skimmed across your skin. You froze. The itchy sensation tickled your heart, as if urging you to act on whatever thoughts you had in your mind. You doused it with a big sip of your drink, letting the fruity taste distract you from the thoughts bouncing in your head.
If you keep touching me, I’m going to go insane! This is worse than the brothers!
“I’m glad we’re on the same page,” he said, again with that same smile that seemed to never leave his face. You looked away to start cutting the sweets on your plate, putting maybe just a little too much force on the fork than you should have. “I’ve always found them intriguing.”
Tilting your head, your eyebrows furrowed. “What’s so interesting about them? They’re just snow globes.”
“It’s just amazing how humans, the majority of which are unable to use magic, invent their own form of magic,” Barbatos said, slowly spinning the globe around with his long, slender fingers. The agitated snow flew up again, covering everything inside in a flurry of white. Yet despite the commotion, the sheep slept ever so peacefully. “Demons may be powerful with all sorts of magic at our disposal, but we cannot compare to humans’ creativity.”
You watched the storm rage around the small sheep, as if the blizzard was a sort of barrier, or protection against the world beyond it. But to the sheep, that was its world. Was it trapped in this small glass? Or would it be better that this small world was all it had ever known, this paradise of eternal snow?
“We’re just desperate,” you said slowly. Your gaze landed on the lake beside you, just in time to see a cluster of crystalized magic fracture and fall apart, returning back to where it started, only to repeat the same process all over again. Unhurried, it bloomed at its own pace, as if time did not exist. “We spend our lifetime wishing for things. Those who want it bad enough just take matters into their own hands, and some end up more successful than others.”
Barbatos hummed, the low timbre of his voice tickling your ears. “It’s not so bad to be desperate,” he said. “As a result, you managed to create something so beautiful, similar to our time magic. It’s wonderful to see.”
He tapped on the snow globe, the muffled sound catching your attention. His eyes were narrowed with a playful smile that had you nervous but also surprised. It was rare for Barbatos to display anything other than an unreadable expression, smile included, on his face.
“Would you like to learn?” he asked, and of course you could never refuse when he’s the one asking you. How could you when he’s asking so nicely? Even though he was busy with his duties, he still offered his time and attention—this meet up, too. You could barely grasp how long the desserts he’s been stuffing you all this time took him to make.
The stuffy feeling in your chest curled up just like the edges of your lips. “Of course, I would love to.”
For a moment, he seemed satisfied. His lips were set softly, and his eyes were warm, gentle, indulging, as if the moment you asked for anything, he would do it for you without hesitation. As if you asked for the moon, he would also give you the stars, and he probably wouldn’t even sweat doing it.
“Perfect,” he said, getting up from his seat. He offered a hand to you, pulling you up when you accepted it. “Why don’t we save it for our next meeting? For now, shall I demonstrate?”
It wasn’t a question, because then, a wind blew, ruffling your clothes, and the temperature dropped, evident in the puff of fog that left your lips when you exhaled. It was currently summer in the devildom, so you were nowhere near prepared for the sudden temperature change.
But of course, Barbatos, ever so thoughtful, set a hand, the same one that had helped you up earlier, on your arm. It fought away the chill biting away at your flesh, but it also increased your heart rate way too much for it to be healthy or normal. Not like you let it show.
He was just casting a spell, you told yourself, mentally smacking your face. Just casting a spell.
“What do you think?” Barbatos said. Despite the magic being applied, he didn’t take away his hand, which slid down to cradle your elbow. Even through the spell, the warmth of his palm stood out, like it was burning wherever he touched.
Distracted, you almost missed his question. It took you an embarrassingly long time to gather the words scattered in your mind. He probably thought you were an idiot, but you didn’t let that stop you from answering.
Taking a look around you, you saw how the previously green leaves of the tree had now turned a deep red, tinging into purple at the edges. They slowly fell off with the wind blowing by, blanketing the ground with their regal crimson. Some even drifted onto the walkway. Although, at a certain point along the path, the autumn leaves stopped entirely, as if there was an invisible wall preventing them from going any further.
“How does this work exactly?” you asked, turning to Barbatos. “You didn’t only change the season, right?”
He regarded you softly with a smile that you had never seen on him before. It was a small smile, not unlike his normally polite ones, but it reached his eyes in that they crinkled so gently at the edges, the love bands underneath his eyes scrunching up in fondness, and if you squinted, there seemed to be a hint of pride lining his eyebrows.
“You’re so observant, my dear,” he praised, and you felt your heart soar in your chest, expanding and expanding until something that you could only describe as a mess of warmth and gooey tenderness was the sole thing you felt coursing through your body. Nothing could beat compliments. Especially when it came from someone that you cared about. “Your observations are exactly right.”
He gestured at the scenery before you with his free hand, his white glove a stark contrast against the vibrant vegetation. “Although time magic has varied applications, this type is the most common in art. If it makes it easier to understand, the closest analogy is precisely the snowglobe.”
As if someone pressed the two times speed button, the leaves coating the ground withered and dried into scratchy piles of dead greys and muted oranges. Dark clouds soon rolled in after, followed by a gust of wind that, thankfully because of the spell, skimmed right over your skin. You looked up through the glass roof. Breathing out a cloud of fog, you saw that it had begun to snow.
“This technique isolates space,” Barbatos continued. “The isolated space has a separate flow of time decided by the caster. It could be sped up, slowed down, or completely stopped. Anything goes, which makes the art created with this technique so interesting.”
“I can see why,” you said, laughing. “I never knew the garden looked so pretty in winter.”
With the snowfall came a sort of quiet that only a dark winter night could bring, a kind of chilling hush that fell over the land and slept softly against the white expanse of snow. It was something you didn’t know you missed until this moment. How long had it been since things were this peaceful?
Barbatos’ grasp on your arm tightened. “You should visit more frequently,” he said in a light voice, watching the snowflakes flutter down. “I don’t see you very often.”
Nothing changed, but something felt different from before.
You reached out a hand. As if it had been summoned, a single, tiny snowflake, one among the indistinctive many, arrived and landed on your palm. In a second, or maybe even less, it melted as quickly as it came. It barely left anything behind, like it had just simply vanished, disappeared into the darkness from where it came.
There was an itch of guilt in your chest.
“I should,” you finally responded. “I’m sorry, Barbatos.”
He drew nearer. If he was close before, he was closer now, to the point where he could wrap his arms around you in a hug if he just extended his arms. It was such a fragile distance.
“What is there for you to apologize for?” he asked, his other hand coming up to softly clasp yours, the one the snowflake fell on. “You haven’t done anything wrong.”
You attempted a smile, but you didn’t think it was particularly convincing. “Maybe I’ll move into the castle. That way I can see you more,” you joked, but you knew it would likely never happen. Diavolo probably wouldn’t mind, but then what about the brothers? What about the rest of the Devildom, the ones that saw you as nothing more than some human?
What right did you have?
Barbatos leaned towards you, his head just shy of touching yours. He looked intently at you. “My dear,” he said slowly, softly, as if he was afraid that you would miss his words if he went any faster. “You can have anything you want. As long as it is what you truly desire.”
“...Anything?” you whispered.
“Anything,” he promised, and that was enough.
There was something in your throat, something sour that stuck around and refused to come out, and you didn’t know whether to cry or smile, so you did an odd combination of both where it came out more like a wince with your furrowed eyebrows and curled lips, but in the end, it didn’t matter. Your vision blurred, and you guessed that your body chose to cry after all.
You tried a laugh. “You’re so silly, you know,” you said with a trembling voice. “Promising me ‘anything.’ You can’t go back on your words, okay?”
“What kind of demon would I be to go back on my words?” Barbatos said, but you’re pretty sure he was joking. He smiled, and you found that you couldn’t really say anything back when he smiled like that. “Let me give you a gift.”
When he looked down at your hand, you followed his gaze only to see a snowflake in your palm. You thought another one had landed until it melted and crystallized and melted again, all within the span of a couple seconds.
“Do you like it?” he asked. “It’s your snowflake now. It’ll be with you until the end of time.”
You almost couldn’t believe his words. Who could lay claim on a singular snowflake? Yet he had clearly done so just now, so nonchalantly, so casually as if it was something normal that anyone could accomplish and give as a gift.
“What if I lose it?” you choked out, staring worryingly at the timeless, ever transforming droplet of water. “It’s so tiny.”
Barbatos chuckled quietly, drawing your attention back to him. Fondly, he said, “You won’t, my dear. Why don’t you take a closer look?”
Following his words, you studied the snowflake closer, tilting your hand this way and that, when suddenly, the light caught against something around the snowflake. You tried again. A sparkle glinted back at you, and you realized it was from a thin layer of something resembling a plastic film wrapped around the snowflake, encasing it, isolating it from the outside world. A notch stuck out at the top, like it was meant to hook onto something.
It had become… a pendant.
You looked at Barbatos, incredulous at how he came up with an idea like this. He met your exasperated look with a calm smile and gentle, olive green eyes. But at that moment, you fully realized the weight of his words, that he had already begun to fulfill his promise, that his gift meant more than a mere gift.
Anything, he said. Anything.
If you wanted the moon, he would even give you the stars.
“Barbatos,” you said, and he responded with an attentive hum. “If you ever go back on your words, I think I’ll cry.”
Finally, finally, his forehead rested against yours, as if he had finally allowed himself to do so. The fragile distance between you two had closed. But even though he was so close that you could see the bright green specks in his eyes, you still couldn’t figure out what was going through his mind. Would you ever?
Maybe, the day you find out would be the day you would be able to give him anything he wanted.
“Please, don’t cry,” he said, and suddenly his voice was so loud, so firm against the swaying snow. His hands were so warm. “I may be a demon, but I’ll always be your demon.”
A cozy feeling tickled your heart.
-------
im sorry this is so late OTL
but don't worry, this series will eventually be finished!
“You’ve sure got some guts,” a haughty voice said suddenly, accompanied by the sound of two quick taps against the ground. You would recognize that habitual sound anywhere.
Licking the whipped cream off your lips, you turned towards the owner of the voice, a certain demon with conspicuous purple hair.
“Huh?” you asked, scrunching your eyebrows together. “What do you mean? Of course, I have guts. Our physiology isn’t that different.”
Mephistopheles stopped in front of you, tilting his head as if he was carefully considering you. Narrowing his eyes, the normally bright green of his eyes darkened into a stormier color. With a hum, he reached out with his pristine white gloves and gently grabbed your jaw.
The smooth fabric, warmed by his body temperature, pressed into your cheeks, effectively stopping you from taking another bite of your crêpe. You took some offense to that. You wanted to enjoy your crêpe in peace, dammit!
“Let me eat,” you complained, your words coming out slightly muffled due to the fingers clasped around your cheeks. “You’re so mean.”
Mephistopheles huffed. “I’d say that you are the one being unfair here. Looking like this… ” When he finally released your jaw, you sighed in relief and went to take another bite of your snack, but paused when you saw him pulling off one of his gloves.
He was still staring at you with that dark look in his eyes, his bangs falling into his eyes as he started with the middle finger, the fabric smoothly pulled from his digit and revealing his bare hand. The sight of it was so enticing that you forgot to finish your bite, letting your mouth hang open as your eyes followed the way he slowly removed the fabric from each individual finger until he had fully taken off his glove.
“What is it?” Mephistopheles teased in a low voice. “You’re staring so much. Like what you see?”
You coughed, trying to act like you were fully in control of your actions, but your eyes never left the exposed skin of his hand. Damn, his hand was so nice, and his knuckles—
One long finger reached back to your face, swiping at the corner of your mouth, and when he pulled back, you realized that he had wiped away some whipped cream for you. You didn’t even notice that you had gotten cream on your face. The crêpe was filled to the brim, so it was hard to avoid smearing some of the whipped cream on your face. Thankfully, no one else had passed by.
You opened your mouth to thank Mephistopheles, but you choked on your words when you saw him suck his finger clean. He watched your reaction with great interest.
“Sweet,” he said, his pink tongue swiping past his lips. Somehow, you could hear the smirk in his voice, which was both infuriating and attractive.
You were still short-circuiting from his display, and so the only thing that came to mind was a simple but probably deserved, “You bastard.”
He wagged his fingers at you. “It’s bad manners to curse. What are you even getting angry at?”
Without waiting for you to respond, Mephistopheles reached for the other side of your mouth, his warm finger pressing against your skin.
This time, you were ready. The moment his hand left your face, you turned your head and licked the chocolate filling off his finger, purposely keeping eye contact with him the entire time.
Mephistopheles paused. He stared at you with an intense look in his eyes and his lips in a flat line. But because your eyes never left him, you saw the way his Adam’s apple dipped harshly.
“You shouldn’t make a habit of teasing demons,” he warned, his fingers coming to clasp your jaw once again.
You licked your lips, eyes narrowing playfully. “I would only tease you, Mephis.”
---
hi i had to write this in order to focus on my work, i'll be back with barbatos' little moment after my finals are over (which will be in a week)
If anyone is interested, I do have a twitter that I'm considering actually using LOL.
There's just some genshin stuff on it right now, but I am thinking about using it for updates regarding my writings? Maybe? I don't know. I really don't think anyone would be interested, but well. Who knows.
I certainly don't know, so let me know. I'll drop my twitter, and oh, while I'm at it, the little moments series is also posted on my Ao3 so I'll also drop that link. Thanks for reading this!
Hi, I just wanted to say I absolutely adore your writing. It's the best feeling ever when reading it, I feel like I'm eating cake whenever I read your stories, especially the little moments one! Have a nice day <3
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AHHHH thank you so much for saying this!!!! It's such an honor to have my writing likened to eating cake (which are magnificient desserts) !! I think this is a first for me 😭😭😭
You have made my entire night!! Sometimes, when I let my guard down, I start worrying that my writing isn't good enough, so having you say this really, really means a lot to me.
I will also try my best to make my future stories enjoyable, even if they're not the fluffiest in terms of mood!
And, thank you for reading! (っ´▽｀)っ While I love writing for myself, it makes me happier if my works are enjoyed by others as well.
You have a good day too! Sending good vibes! ( *¯ ³¯*)♡
All of the little moments stories are linked. Everything that has happened and will happen in the little moment stories will be relevant in a future story.
Everything will tie together, culminating into a final bang, so enjoy the fluff while it lasts.
While reading Barbatos', Luke's, Simeon's, and Solomon's little moments, keep a keen eye out for details ;)
8 - That moment when you found out what Diavolo did with your doodles.
✿ part of a series now! ✿
❀ gender neutral reader ❀
“Your Highness,” you called out, your knuckles rapping against the door of his private office. The sturdy wood muffled the three knocks, softening the crisp sounds. “It’s me. Are you inside?”
Immediately after you lowered your hand, the door opened to a beaming Diavolo. He wore his polite and friendly smile, restrained in the emotions he showed through his face, but his eyes softened when they met yours.
“Please, come in,” Diavolo said, his smile unfurling into a bright grin. He opened the door wider for you, letting you pass through before shutting it.
“How’s your work going, Your Highness?” you teased, dropping your bag next to your desk. “Still have a stack of papers?”
Ever since you agreed on a weekly hangout session with Diavolo, he immediately installed a new desk next to his, furnished with everything you would need—pens, paper, ink, pencils, colors—there was even a paper weight shaped as a golden nugget.
It must be nice to be a prince.
Diavolo wrapped his arms around you, gently latching onto you, and rested his cheek on your head. This side of him was something that only you could see. You bet even Lucifer didn’t know how puppy-like the prince of the Devildom was.
Diavolo pouted, blowing out a huff of air. “I understand being formal when we are in public, but we are in private, currently. Why don’t you call me by my name? Hm?”
You laughed and patted one of his arms crossed over your chest, but you dryly responded with, “I see Your Highness has plenty of free time. Your Highness must have completed so much work during the week.”
Diavolo drooped over you, his head burying into your neck as you tried to break free of his hold. You had some work to do, but you knew he had even more work waiting for him. Even though your weekly sessions were scheduled so that you could hang out with him, almost every session was spent working. You didn’t blame it on him—rather, you quite liked these sessions since they were calm, without the chaotic mess of the brothers, and you managed to get work done. You also get to spend that time with Diavolo, so it was definitely, one hundred percent a win-win situation.
In response to your veiled reminder to start working, he clutched tighter onto you.
“Be good, call my name,” he said, his voice leaving in a higher pitch than normal. It was even a bit nasally. Was he… whining? Diavolo, the future king, was whining? “Please? Say my name, hm? You know I love hearing you say my name.”
When he finished his sentence, he blew lightly into your ear. The warm air tickled at the inside of your ear, numbing it with a tingling sensation that remained even after he stopped.
You flushed and covered your ear with a hand. You glanced at him from the corner of your eyes only to see his pouting face, his own golden eyes misty with unshed tears.
Coupled with his voice, it was an effective and deadly double KO.
Flustered, you cleared your throat. “Di-diavolo… Diavolo, I think you should go work on your papers.”
Diavolo beamed at you, his eyes regaining their clarity. If you weren’t busy avoiding his eyes as you tried to rub away the color on your cheeks, you would have seen his eyes narrowing with a hint of smugness.
Before he pulled himself away from you, his mouth pressed against the junction of your neck where your shoulder joined together, the sensation of soft lips warming your skin for just a moment, and you swore your heart missed a beat—tripping over a figurative line and tumbling around in your chest until it landed flat on its face.
Diavolo sighed as he turned to the stack of papers on his desk. “I’m so sick of looking at these papers. I much rather look at you all day. You are, by far, more interesting than whatever Moloch has to report on his governing.”
You gave him a helpless look. “It’s your kingdom that you’re looking at.”
Diavolo ran a hand through his hair, his slender fingers separating the dark red strands, and you couldn’t help but stare at the way they fell back over his forehead.
“I can still be bored of it,” Diavolo replied. The teasing and playful expressions that were just on his face had now faded away, leaving behind a blank face that carried hints of exhaustion.
As a demon, Diavolo wouldn’t show any signs of aging like humans would, since demons had amazing regeneration abilities. And with the magic suffused in the Devildom air, it wasn’t any surprise that demons could keep their youthful appearance or even alter them to their preferences.
Diavolo had the face of a human in their early twenties, but you noticed the dark bags underneath his eyes, the way his eyes drooped, and the dazed look he often showed when he forgot the world existed around him.
“Besides,” he continued, sitting down on his seat, “You haven’t read Moloch’s reports. He’s a bit—how do I put this… Moloch pays high attention to details, especially when it involves… certain emotions and feelings. He’s easily excited by them, and since he wants to make sure I don’t miss anything, he includes everything into his report.” He stretched his thumb and index finger to measure the stack of papers. “This much is his.”
Diavolo pointed to basically one-third of the stack.
“That’s a lot of paper,” you said, also sitting down. “This is a weekly report, right? How do you still have so many trees?”
He blinked in surprise, probably from your concern about the Devildom trees, and then, he laughed.
“You are so cute,” Diavolo said, smiling. You were basically right next to him, so he reached over and lightly squeezed your cheeks. His voice became softer. “Don’t worry, we recycle all the paper, and we are replanting whenever we can. Anything that is within the territories of my kingdom will be well taken care of.”
“That’s good,” you said, returning his smile. “I wouldn’t want a beautiful place like the Devildom to reach the state of the human world.”
Diavolo picked up a sheet from the stack on his desk, the nail of his thumb scratching lightly against the paper. It was a subconscious habit of his that you accidentally noticed from the several sessions you’ve spent with him.
“I appreciate your concern for the environment,” he said, skimming the paper before setting it down on your desk. “But won’t you spare any for me? My eyes are so dry from reading for hours non-stop.”
You thought back to when he teared up earlier, appearing pitiful in order to make you say his name, and unwillingness welled up inside you. You had to stop spoiling him, or this would turn into a bad habit.
“Be good, hm?” you said flatly, mirroring his earlier coaxing. Only this time, there was mild indifference on your face. You brought out your own homework and grabbed a gilded pencil from the pen holder. “Get to work. Your kingdom awaits your guidance.”
Diavolo didn’t respond. You stopped flipping through your chemistry notes and turned to find him staring at you with a smouldering gaze. The dark pupils of his eyes nearly swallowed his golden irises, leaving behind a thin ring of yellow that reminded you of a fire’s core—a blazing, molten yellow that threatened to intensify into something that burns.
You swallowed hard, the air pausing in your chest. If you weren’t sitting down, your knees might have given out from how intense his eyes looked.
You managed to get some words out. “What—what is it?”
“I’m sorry,” Diavolo said. There was a hoarseness to his voice that roughened his words and lowered his pitch, seeming to rumble from his chest. Despite the hoarseness, the way he spoke was undeniably smooth and even a bit… deliberate. “It seems… I experienced momentary deafness. Please, would you repeat what you said?”
There was absolutely no way Diavolo experienced “momentary deafness,” or however he put it, because you knew that, as a demon, his senses were outstanding compared to humans. He had always been healthy, and today would be no exception either. Although it resembled more of an excuse than anything else, you had no resistance to that stare of his and could only agree to his request.
“Di—Diavolo,” you said, but when you found that your voice came out slightly wrong, you cleared your throat and repeated yourself. “Diavolo, be good. Do your work.” Your voice subconsciously became softer, but this time, it didn’t contain the same indifference as before.
Diavolo’s long eyelashes fluttered, trembling as he took in your words. After a short period of silence, he hummed softly.
“Yes,” he said, looking at you. “I will listen to you.”
To your surprise, he actually returned to his work without saying anything else. The only sounds that filled his office afterwards were the smooth slides of parchment against parchment as he placed the ones he finished reading onto your desk.
You returned to your own work as well. Your chemistry class had an exam coming soon, and you still felt ill-prepared for it, so you couldn’t miss out on this quiet time. However much you would like to study at the House of Lamentation, it was impossible to do so most of the time. One brother after another would just invite themselves into your room, often bringing their little arguments with them, resulting in them always asking for your opinions without fail.
Tapping the edge of the golden pencil against your notes, you took in a deep breath and cleared all irrelevant thoughts from your mind. No more nonsense. It’s time to study.
And so, the time quietly passed in this manner.
Before you knew it, you reached the last pages of your notes. You sat back into your chair, closing your eyes as you enjoyed the soft cushioning against your back. Diavolo’s taste was just fantastic, although you suppose anyone would after living in luxury for thousands of years.
The sound of scratching filled your ears, suddenly reminding you that you weren’t alone in the room. You lazily opened your eyes to see Diavolo slide another paper onto the growing pile on your desk.
Diavolo had made some good progress. He was nearly done with his stack, which earlier had towered over him. Some of the papers were signed and stacked to his other side, some were set aside to be reviewed again, and the remaining unnecessary ones were set on your desk.
The reason for it was because Diavolo knew you had a habit of doodling when killing time. You often finished your work before Diavolo, and so while resting your brain, you found yourself reaching for some paper and letting golden ink flow and form random shapes.
The pen scratching against the paper, the twinkling of the golden ink as the lights casted their glow against it, the shuffling of fabric against wood, the scritch scritch scritch that would occasionally murmur in the office—they all came together to form something comforting to you.
It became extremely familiar. Sometimes, when you studied alone in your room, on the rare quiet days when no one bothered you, you found yourself scratching against paper with the edge of your nail. Because, otherwise, the silence didn’t sound right.
How wonderful it was—to have this sort of secret connection.
“Oh? This is different from your usual doodle.”
You blinked, waking up from the trance of your drifting thoughts, and saw that Diavolo was smiling at you as he leaned into his hand.
“Ah, did you finish?” you asked, returning his smile as you set down the pen in your hands. “I think you finished faster than usual.”
“Of course, I did,” Diavolo said. “I had to in order to fully enjoy your drawing.”
He reached over to your paper, and then you realized that you had spaced out the entire time you were doodling. You had no recollection of what you drew, so when you looked down at your work, you couldn’t believe your eyes.
The golden lines winked back at you, teasing you with their sparkles as you tried to process the fact that you accidentally, very much so, drew the prince of the Devildom while he was working.
Indeed. Now, you remembered.
On the back of a report was a Diavolo in gold ink—the eyes half-lidded, focused on the paper in his hand; his mouth set softly with the ends curled down, matching with the minute wrinkling of his brows; the taut lines of his neck gently trailing into his collarbones, which were exposed due to his unbuttoned collar; the protruding knuckles on his hands, linked to his slender fingers that held onto paper.
It was a rough sketch, but it captured so much that the roughness gave it a sense of life. Of course, it wasn’t perfect. It was drawn in such a short amount of time that it could hardly be considered a masterpiece.
But with how Diavolo was handling the paper, you almost felt like he was treating it as such.
“Can I keep it?” he asked, setting the paper down and turning to you.
You looked at the drawing in his hands, and then back at him. Your sketch felt like a mocking copy of the real thing, and a creeping feeling of shame crawled up your neck.
“Are you sure?” You fiddled with the pen on your desk. Why did you have to go and draw him? “It’s not that good. I don’t mind if you keep it, but—”
“It’s not a matter of being good or bad,” Diavolo interrupted. He tenderly traced the lines you drew with a finger as he spoke. “To me, when I see this sketch, I don’t see the technicalities of art, but rather, the time you spent thinking of me. And it is this time and thought you have put in that I treasure the most.”
You didn’t know what to say in response, so you looked down, away from the soft indulgence on his face that only appeared when he was alone with you.
You looked away because you couldn’t bear the way your heart stuttered from it, because you couldn’t bear to allow yourself the growing familiarity of that expression, because you wouldn’t be able to bear it if one day you were no longer the receiver of the same expression.
Diavolo left a lifelong impact on you that was slowly suffusing through your daily life, but what about you?
How long will you last in his heart?
You clenched the pencil you were playing with, your mood dipping at the depressing thoughts sneaking their way into your head, but then you remembered something.
Looking back at him, bracing yourself against that expression on his face, you asked, “What did you do with my other doodles?”
Diavolo tilted his head, the strands of his hair brushing against his eyes, and he smiled at you mysteriously, like he relished in knowing something that you didn’t.
“Are you curious?” he asked.
You stared at him, face blank as various snarky replies flew through your mind. You were so tempted to sass back, but you decided on a mild, “Well, yeah. Why else would I be asking?”
Diavolo laughed, eyes squinting into crescents. “Fair enough. Then, I’ll show you.” He leaned over to his other side, away from you, but right before he pulled open the drawer, his hands paused.
“Are you ready?” Diavolo teased.
You were not impressed. At your deadpan expression, Diavolo stopped playing around and finally pulled the drawer open, carefully taking out the glass display box from inside.
You couldn’t tell what was displayed inside until Diavolo placed it down on the desk and removed the casing around it. Six golden seal stamps, each with a beautifully carved wooden body, were meticulously arranged so that the patterns could be seen clearly.
“Are those… seals?” you asked, leaning in closer to confirm what you’re seeing. “What do seals have to do with my doodles?”
Diavolo rubbed your head. “Look closely,” he said. “These are my favorites out of all your doodles.”
You blinked, then carefully studied the engravings. The first one was a doodle from long ago, from when you had just started the weekly sessions with Diavolo. In fact, it was so long ago that if Diavolo hadn’t told you that it was your doodle, you wouldn’t have recognized it at all. The others were all from your previous sessions. Some you couldn’t remember when it was from, but some you remembered doodling in the previous months.
“To answer your question,” Diavolo said after a while, “I made all your doodles into seals. My favorites are kept close to me in this case, and the others are placed in a protected cabinet at the back of my office. I also made another set so that I could look at them and use them back at the castle.”
“You…!” you choked, whipping your head towards him incredulously. You thought it was already crazy that he made six seals of your doodles, but not only did Diavolo make a seal out of every doodle you drew, he made two sets! Two! “Isn’t that overkill?! Why did you make two sets? That’s such a waste of resources! I thought you would just keep the papers I doodled on, not… not… this!”
Diavolo ignored your scolding and picked up a seal from its stand. “Do you want to give it a try?” he asked casually, taking out another box. This one held wax sticks, a spoon for melting wax, and some tea candles. “This penguin of yours is really cute. I love how chubby it is!”
“No, no,” you breathed out, rubbing at your forehead. “No, it’s fine. As long as you’re happy.”
After all, Diavolo was a prince of an affluent kingdom. It was also part of his nature to indulge in these sort of eccentric little things. And it wasn’t like you were angry or anything, since you did give him permission in the first place. You weren’t angry at all, just perhaps a bit embarrassed at having something you made with barely a thought and any effort to be turned into high-quality seals that rivaled the manufacturing of the royal seals…
Diavolo was really too much.
“Then, you can watch me,” he said, grinning. “What color should I use?”
You curled the edges of your lips. “How about blue?”
Diavolo nodded, grabbing the dark blue wax stick from the box. The golden specks mixed into the wax sparkled under the light as he broke a piece off. Lighting the tea candle with a spark of magic, he placed the piece of wax into the spoon and watched it melt into a puddle of gold-speckled blue.
Now that you thought about it, it was rather endearing. You smiled at the pure glee on Diavolo’s face when he poured the wax out on some paper, delicately pressing the seal into the wax.
This wasn’t bad. You could get used to this. Maybe you shouldn’t, but when you saw how Diavolo beamed after lifting the stamp from the wax, when you saw how he showed the penguin to you after peeling it from the paper, when you saw how this moment held you two so tenderly that you felt like time stopped—you were rather reluctant to let all of this escape from your grasp.
Crackle, stamp, peel.
This sound, too, you decided—if the sound of nails against paper was the sound of comfort, then, this sound of joy—you won’t let it escape.
It was yours to immortalize.
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Masterlist!
Phew, this one took a while. I'm sorry it's so long ;-;
The Little Moments (Obey Me! x Gender Neutral!Reader):
1. Mammon
2. Lucifer
3. Asmodeus
4. Leviathan
5. Satan
6. Beelzebub
7. Belphegor
8. Diavolo
9. Barbatos
10. Luke (Soon to come!) (I think I should say this: No romance with Luke!!!! Luke’s story will be platonic!!!! Very very good friendship with Luke!!!!! No romantic undertones!!!!!! Thank you)
Here is Mammon’s. To be honest, I have no idea how this happened.
But I like how it looks!!!! A lot… Maybe too much…
It looks like an egg (unborn fortunes?) and also kinda looks like his wings?? I’m not sure myself, hahaha. Although, if you squint, you can see hearts.
This is all I have for now. I’m thinking Satan’s will be completely unhinged.
May I offer my design of Lucifer’s seal in these trying times? (This is actually from a few months ago lol.)
“Damn, that’s a lot of lines,” you might be thinking, and yes, I’m thinking it as well. I certainly would never attempt drawing his seal if I was trying to summon him if it really looked like this.
But I think it fits Lucifer to have a seal that is complicated. Complication demands attention to detail, and it is only fitting for the Avatar of Pride to have a seal that matches him—symmetrical elegance, intricate details, and peacocks! Haha, I wanted to add the motif of peacock feathers in there somewhere. Oh, and I also tried my best to make it be in the style of the seals in the Ars Goetia.
I swear, the person who drew those seals were probably high.
dededos
kianamaiart
andulkaphoto
tangentwithtanner
annaxmalina
stormborns
turnnoffyourmind
pixelskylines