#tywrites

[delusional-angel]

they'll write stories of our love...

I long for a love that may not exist. This little corner will be home to many ocs and the media I fell in love with along the way. The listed fandoms and interests aren't all inclusive and I'm open to writing for more things and characters when asked if the vibe is right. :9 I'm open to getting into and learning new things so don't let my fandom list scare you. This blog is nsfw and will contain noncon and dubcon, so all minors, kindly see yourselves out.

I'm a work-in-progress. (◍•ᴗ•◍)❤

little tidbits: mostly GxB but GxG friendly, all Darlings/readers are female and will be addressed with she/her pronouns. Darlings may be read as multiracial/black in some instances.

the heart wants what the heart wants...

♡ exophilia ♡ myths + legends ♡ anime + manga ♡ comics + graphic novels ♡ video games ♡ movies + shows

we don't get down like that 'round here:

𝙓 bimbo!reader 𝙓 ddlg / infantilization / age play 𝙓 cheating 𝙓 dbf and stepdad 𝙓 omegaverse 𝙓 minors (all characters I write are 19+)

'And they lived happily ever after...'

[transcendentalyouthh]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

For Ouji, it was a sunny, relaxing beach trip with three of his closest friends– a week of summer well spent.

For Arafune, it was a week of herding six other rambunctious teenagers in a paradise of sun, sand, and no adult supervision.

Two groups of eighteen-year-olds (and Yuba) accidentally merge vacations, spending a week at the beach together. The more the merrier, right?

In which @araouiswoke and I use the single braincell we share to write the most incredibly self-indulgent beast of a fanfic yet.

[delusional-angel]

a replaced!mc au pt. ii〚Flectere si nequeo superos, Acheronta movebo.〛

"If I cannot bend the will of Heaven, I shall move Hell."

part unus

This series was inspired by the writings of @wafermelons and @pen-ink-therapy whose work showed me how cathartic writing and reading angst could be.

Imagine an alternate universe where the seven avatars who have come to love the MC with everything they have, reject them for another. Old wounds are ripped open and laid bare for all to see. Grudges are brought to light, but with it comes an inner peace MC hasn't felt since they became the emotional support of the seven demon lords of the Devildom. Through trial and fire, MC will begin a new journey and the brothers will lose what cannot be replaced.

Warnings: mental abuse, emotional abuse, acts of violence, suicidal ideation, poor mental health, angst, mentions of past death, MC chose violence.

Note: There will be n/sfw and yandere content in future installments because I am a ✨ w h o r e ✨

The look on Mammon’s face—for lack of a better word—was priceless. One sentence. One response from you was all it took to crack his face in two. Your softly smiling lips and impishly twinkling eyes didn’t betray your emotions like his did, but inside you were just as surprised at yourself. The sentence flowed from your lips like a cool breeze on a warm summer’s day. It should’ve hurt, or been scary, or sent you into a panic attack afraid of all of the things that could be done to you in retaliation for daring to talk back—but it wasn’t and you didn’t. You forgot what this felt like, defending yourself against those who sought to tear you down with their hands or their words. It was always scary at first. The buildup of anxiety that festered the longer you took to defend yourself, but once you did, they almost always backed down because they thought you were an easy target and you proved you weren’t.

It was like how a bully's face crumbled in humiliation when you snapped back. They thought you were prey to make an example of in front of your peers, but they were so wrong. You could recall a relative who thought their blood ties could excuse bad behavior, only to get settled in front of the whole family, consequences be damned. You forgot what this felt like. To care about yourself. To begin to love yourself again. When you defended yourself, no matter the outcome, you were affirming your worth and your dignity was not something that could be taken away no matter how daunting the foe. You stared the second strongest lord of the Devildom in the eye and quirked an eyebrow. If you were to die for this, you sure as hell were going to get your money's worth.

You had always been worth so much more than you ever believed, MC.

While you had been invigorated and ready for conflict Mammon’s face had cracked, but by the grace of Diavolo it didn’t betray the mayhem raging inside. His eyes were wide with trembling pupils as if he was having trouble focusing on the human standing not even two feet away from him. Mouth slightly agape, no sound came out. His brothers, the mighty avatars, were frozen where they were. Asmodeus had been curled up on the couch with a throw blanket, but now his eyes were wide, and lips a wobbly line. Belphegor and Leviathan who had been grabbing for Danielle who had been scrambling towards you, were now frozen with their arms extended.

Satan had been stalking towards you with nostrils practically flaring when your words brought him to an abrupt halt. Beelzebub who had been seated on a chair was now sat upright, confusion and concern marred his features as once again he was at a loss of what to do. Lucifer stood the closest to you and Mammon, but he too had paused. He didn’t register that a mere human’s words had halted his movements and if he realized or someone was suicidal enough to mention it, he would surely combust on the spot. The silence was going on too long for your liking. I mean, you had places to be tonight. They had wasted enough of your valuable time—time a mere mortal like yourself couldn’t get back—and you’d be damned before you let them take a second more. Hurry up and start the confrontation so you can get the fuck on.

“What’s the matter, Mammoney? Cat got your tongue?” You used the old nickname he once wore like a badge of honor. He’d go out of his way to have you call that name in public, wanting the world to know that he was yours. Things had been so good once. You were so happy. Don’t worry MC, you can be happy again. It just won’t be with him.

Mammon had to shake himself from his stupor. He hadn’t heard that nickname in so long, and for some reason unknown to him, his heart ached. However, he couldn’t think over these foreign yet familiar feelings now. His brothers were watching and he wasn’t about to let himself be cowed in front of them.

“What the fuck did you just say to the Great Mammon?” His canines seemed more prominent, and his eyes sharpened with a danger never intended for you before. His fists were balled and shook slightly, and you could see the you of the past throwing yourself out of the way, so terrified of an attack. That was no more.

Your smile never left your lips, you didn’t even hesitate, “You’re a goddamned hypocritical little bitch and caring about you was one of the biggest mistakes I’ve ever made.”

He stumbled backwards and the bubble burst. Lucifer was charging at you, drawing up to bring his full form over yours. He was darkness and the odor of burning blood and rusty iron from chains and torture. “MC! How dare you—!”

You turned your head to the left to lock eyes with the furious demon. The fallen. He thought he was so scary, but the flash in your eyes was murderous. He had always thought he was so intimidating. A word from him, and everyone would fall into line, but you weren’t one of them. You looked at him and all you saw was a waste of space. His booming voice that seemed to reverberate in the common room and the hellfire that was his eyes, did nothing to you. Instead, your own eyes were alight with unbridled rage at his insubordination.

“Shut the fuck up!” Your voice was a growl, a beast that long lay dormant inside was awakened and out to protect you. "I am your master and you will obey me."

Every demon in the room was thrown back as strong gales of wind spun with you at its center. All were tossed back from their spots and sent crashing into furniture or the walls around you. Beelzebub was thrown into a display shelf, glass and priceless antiques were destroyed beyond repair. Asmodeus was thrown up where his head hit the ceiling on a tender spot that sent tears blurring his vision. He fell on his side and could immediately feel the bruises forming. Belphegor had been ripped backwards where he skidded across the carpet and bumped into an end table that fell over to crush his thighs.

Leviathan was ripped from his seat and spun in the air where he was thrown at the door where his head collided with the doorframe. His vision blurred and mind raced, unable to latch onto any thought but of terror and confusion and the splinters stuck in his scalp. Satan felt a punch to his gut that propelled him back into the lit fireplace. It took agonizingly long seconds before his body registered the heat. Then, he quickly threw himself on the rug before him and rolled to extinguish the flames, being too stunned to even think of a spell to put them out. Mammon was thrown back where he slid across the carpet and against the wall. Family photos and memories fell from the surface onto and around him. Glass shattered and frames broke and a picture of you and him on a rare trip to the human world caught his attention. You were holding his hand and beaming like it had been the happiest day of your life.

Lucifer should’ve been the one out of the brothers who could stand his ground, but his knees were kicked in by some invisible assailant, and he was tossed aside like a ragdoll. His wings wouldn’t listen to him and appear to catch his flight, so he was cast aside like something insignificant, an indignation he was sure he had never felt in all of his days.

The epiphany came too late. The paltry amount of magic Solomon had leant you at the beginning of your first semester was overwhelmed by your natural talents. You were able to summon the brothers to your side without a formal invocation and they had been imbued with strength they had never felt before from a pact mate. You were far stronger than they had realized, but somehow the fact had been forgotten. Why did they forget? Because you never used your pacts. You treated them like friends and only called when your life was threatened. You never asked for anything, but a bit of their time and they couldn’t even give that. This time, your command wasn’t imbuing them with power, but draining them. While all of this was happening, no demon uttered a single sound, not even a pained groan from their throats, because that was your command: To shut the fuck up. Their bodies listened and obeyed.

You exhaled. You had been afraid for nothing! All this time you held your tongue, bowed out with your tail between your legs and avoided confrontation like it was a fatal contagion because you felt it could kill you. Your life had been threatened in every possible way it could be and you still had panic attacks at night. You would awake unable to move and the air leaving your lungs. You couldn’t breathe or make a single gurgle inside of your throat and your vision would begin to go spotty. Every time that happened you were taken back to your throat being crushed by the hands of someone you foolishly trusted. Your lungs failed you and desperately clawing hands made no scratch on the demon who straddled your weakening form. You couldn’t have done anything to protect yourself back then, and it had hit you long ago how insignificant you truly were.

You could be killed by these creatures who didn’t view you as more than a fly—they had killed you like the fly they saw you as—and every threat may have been filled with truth. Almost eaten in a fit of rage because you were close enough and food. Almost ripped apart because you dared to say 'no.' Almost maimed over a stupid game that didn’t matter. Threatened to be sold or killed or disfigured or tortured until you were actually killed and brought back like exchanging a faulty product for a new one in store. Maybe you had been replaced long ago by a new you who they didn’t bother to ask how you felt. A new you who forgave and forgot.

In the chaos, Danielle was the only one left untouched. There was a slight tremor in her legs as she walked towards you, but it vanished the closer she got. Her back straightened and eyes never left your own. She stopped short, not wanting to invade your personal space, not from fear but from compassion. “MC, are you okay?”

You always looked at her with a softness your eyes had lost towards the brothers, and your smile bloomed into something shy and incredulous. “You’re something else, Danielle. You know that?” She shook her head, worry evident on her features. She pointed towards your hand that glowed with the signature colors of the demons you were in a pact with. The sight soured your expression.

Raising it to get a better view, these colors once gave a feeling of security but now they were a ball and chain you needed to find a saw to cut off. You wiggled your fingers and glanced at her. “Y’know, I was tricked into making these pacts.” She perked up then. She didn’t know how it happened and she never asked because she felt it hadn’t been her place, but she had been waiting to hear your side of things. “I thought I was helping,” you turned away from her, her honest eyes doing something to you, “but I was the only one hurt in the end.” Your throat became sore.

“MC?” Danielle started.

“Yes?”

“I’m on your side.”

You laughed. Come on, now. This had to be a joke, but Danielle stared at you with a resolve that you knew you couldn’t shake. You shook your head as you gazed at her, “I wish that we could’ve been friends.” You smiled and she could feel that same shyness she felt when first meeting you. She had always wanted you to like her, but she didn’t get the chance. “You should go.” You inclined your head to the door. “There’s something I have to do and…I don’t want to scare you.” You couldn’t budge her. “I’m not afraid, MC.” She was already going back to her spot on the couch where she sat crisscrossed. “And I feel like I should be here. Everything needs to come out in the open and I understand if you hate me—.”

“I don’t, Danielle. I could never hate you.” You smiled and she had to look away and clear her throat. Please don’t look at her like that when she’s trying to be serious and supportive here! “Well, no matter what happens here, I just want you to know I’m on your side.” she forced her eyes to meet yours again. You shook your head again, but maybe you didn’t hate the fact that she was here. What was going to happen in this room would sever the ties that bound you to this house and everyone in it, but that thought didn’t scare you like it once did. As cliché as it sounded, you truly could see the light at the end of this tunnel.

Turning away from her, it was time to get started. Your voice was clear and even when you turned your attention to Lucifer who had pulled himself up from the crumbled heap he once was. “Kneel before your master.” Avatars were drawn from their positions and forced to form a circle around you. All were forced to their knees, crashing harshly against the floor and nearly shattering kneecaps. The loudest of the brothers, Asmodeus and Leviathan, weren’t allowed to even make a peep. It was so nice to not hear their shrill voices for once. You basked in the silence, but your attention never left Lucifer whose eyes tried to express every vile intent and curse he could muster, ruby red eyes shaking and mouth drawn tight. You weren’t satisfied.

“Lower.”

Shock appeared on every brother’s face. Even Lucifer’s eyes widened as he was forced down onto his elbows where his fingers laced before him as he faced the floor at your feet in obedience. This still wasn’t enough. “Lower. Face down, ass up.” The smile that adorned your features was salacious. His once proud form prostrated himself in the same humiliating position you had been in not hours before. Forehead pressed against the floor and his ass being the highest point about him as it was raised in the air, he looked like a servant in devotion to their master.

“I’ve called you here for one last family meeting. You will listen to every word I speak and commit them to memory where they will forever be engraved on your hearts. They will invade every moment of silence you’ll ever experience. They’ll haunt your dreams and never let you rest. If I had to suffer from your words, so should you.” They must obey. Their confusion and fear were tuned out in favor of their ears and minds focusing on you and what you had to say. What was going to happen? What do you mean you suffered? You didn’t care for easing their anxieties, instead reaching down to take a fist full of Lucifer’s always perfectly styled hair painfully by the roots to jerk his head up to face you. Your eyes scanned his face looking for something of substance or value. Your eyes were unreadable, and he could feel an anxiety from being judged rise inside of him. Finally, your eyes flashed as you came to your conclusion.

“You look pretty like this. No wonder Diavolo keeps you down here—on your knees where you belong.” If they could’ve there would’ve been audible gasps heard in this room. “Just don’t forget who else owns your ass.” The look on his face should’ve been memorialized, but you didn’t waste time on him as you released his hair—now messy—and his head fell to the floor once more.

You retook your place at the center of the circle and gazed at every face. Every single one you had cared for in some way, but now those feelings had burned to ash, and something new thrived in its place. You needed to quench its thirst. As far as humans go, you tried to be good and kind. You tried to extend the same kindness to others that you wish you had been given at some of your lowest points in life. You never wanted others to feel the same hurt you did, but at the expense of your own health? You should’ve treated others like they deserved to be treated, MC. Don’t be good and kind; don’t be their Lilith. Let that vindictive bitch inside out.

“There are some things I have to get off of my chest.” You started, “Everyone else got to share their feelings, so I should get a turn before I go. Just remember: You unloaded all of this on me to fix and didn’t realize you were giving me ammo.”

You walked towards Mammon, the look in your eyes felt so disconnected to what he was used to as you gazed down at him.

“I guess I’ll start with my first,” you grinned, but he couldn’t feel the butterflies he used to. He felt cold. “Everything you did hurt the most, Mammon, because I loved you.” His eyes widened and he struggled to open his mouth or even whine, but nothing would come out. His throat was numb.

“You always pushed me away, but I couldn’t help but care. I never felt safer than when I was with you, and I trusted you over anyone else.” You searched his eyes, and he could feel the emotion. You were hurting and he was the one who caused it. How did he let it get this far?

“I was so stupid.” Wait, what?

“Everything that your brothers had ever said was true. You’re lower than shit, and not even half as useful. You go on and on about being the greatest but you’re a slave to some witches who’ve made you their bitch and you let them. Either you get trapped in schemes that anyone could see, or you throw yourself into trouble chasing coin that you never get to keep. You debase yourself for things or money that mean nothing, and in the end, you’re left used up and empty. You’re the cheapest thing on the market, but no amount of grimm can buy back the dignity and respect you lost. What’s the point of making a pact with ‘the Great Mammon’ if everyone gets a turn? How many people have you had to suck and fuck to get out of debt just to fall into an MLM? You ask for respect, but when have you ever been worthy? When have you ever been someone to be proud of?”

You stoop down to meet his eye level, his trembling pupils and glassy eyes can no longer reach your heart. “The Great Mammon is a delusion to save your shit self-esteem from everything people say because you know it’s the truth. You’re a greedy pest with no sense of self-worth so you take and take from everyone around you to bring them down to your level.” You tap a finger to his heart, “But no amount of grimm will change what you are or what people say. The only thing that can make the change is you, and you gave up a long time ago, right? You tried to play the good guy with me, but that crashed and burned. ‘I’ll protect ya!’ ‘I’m your first man!’ But how long did that last, Mammon? You kept me alive for what—a few months?—And then watched your baby brother kill me. Did you like it?” You leaned forward, voice dropping to a low whisper that sent chills wracking his spine. “Did it satisfy something in you watching that pesky little human being killed? I bet you liked that I couldn’t bother you anymore. If the human was out of the way, you could have more time to chase grimm! Mammon, you’re the second born and Belphegor’s the weakest. If you wanted to save me, you would’ve. For once, just accept the truth. If you really cared you would’ve done something about it, but you chose you brother over me. You all did. Give me back the time I wasted loving you.”

You gently touched the gold change around his neck, only to cruelly rip it from his throat. A spell in your mind, a reverse alchemy that regressed an item to its basic components had the ‘gold’ chain reduced to mere copper. You stared down at the mineral blankly, then chuckled. “Cheap and tasteless. Typical.” You dropped the ash and grains at his knees and stood up to find Leviathan. When your eyes locked on his, he wanted to shrink in on himself and disappear. His turn was coming.

“Leviathan, you were wrong. People don’t hate you because you’re some yucky otaku.” Your voice was reassuring like the times you talked him down from his self-deprecating tangents. He foolishly let himself relax. “Please smile for me.” You cooed and his muscles drew back to expose his pearly whites to you despite his eyes betraying his fear.

His tense muscles relaxed the moment before your foot collided into his mouth.

Your shoe was a battering ram against his teeth, knocking his head back with a snap and him tumbling backward and on his back. The entire time, he didn’t make a sound. Some teeth loosened while his front ones chipped and broke. His mouth wasn’t allowed to open despite filling with blood and fragments of a broken smile, so he had no choice but to swallow it all down. The blood wouldn’t stop but he choked it down all the same. Tears poured from his eyes pathetically, but he couldn’t even sniffle.

“People hate you because you’re a manipulative, whiny, bitch-ass bastard who sucks the joy out of every place you go. You’re almost as much of a blackhole as Beelzebub, listless and empty, and like your older brother you take, and you take, and you take. You take good will, you take patience, you take the last shred of sanity needed to deal with a pathetic fuck like you! You take more than a person can give and you want more, but Leviathan, I have to tell you—you’re not worth it and you never will be.” Your once low voice when berating Mammon rose an octave, showing how annoyed you had been with Levi all this time.

“You’re weak and bitter, and not everyone is going to fall for your shit. What else can you offer than that? What more can you bring to the table, Levi? Nothing and you know it. I'm sure you were as useless in the celestial realm as you are down here." Snot dribbled down his chin as you hissed in dissatisfaction. "That's why you fell, right? Not some grand purpose you deluded yourself into believing like Lucifer— you fell because you had nowhere else to go. If your brothers left you'd be all alone. Heaven knows you're not the best at socializing, and you'd be up there all alone with no one you could talk to. Let's be real, you won't focus on anything that isn't a waifu or shitty otaku cashgrab, because you knew they would see through you as the waste of space, bottom of the barrel, unwanted middle child you are." Your sneer dropped into a flat line and your voice became a grave monotone, "You were right. Shove a loli figurine up your ass, you fucking degenerate, and throw in the fucking towel. Write a note and end it.”

“The most insecure are always the loudest, and you never shut up. If you hate being such a bother, why don’t you just disappear? The third born and leader of a fucking navy, but you can’t make any friends or inspire anything but pity. You need your hand held just to leave your room, but at least you’re considerate enough to know that no one wants to be seen with you.” You sneered down at him. He had truly been an annoyance for so long. You found a kindred spirit in him, his raw insecurities mirroring some of your own, so maybe that’s why it hurt so much to be left behind by someone you thought understood you. “Now don’t go withdrawing into yourself now. You’re always so expressive when playing those video games with the other scrotes who only have experience with their free hands. You’re so good at games, that’s the only thing you can be confident in. But when you lose? Everyone loses. They lose a tooth, they lose a friend, they could even lose their lives. Misery loves company because the only company you can keep are those you ruin.

You were out of breath at the end, but felt so fucking alive. You had cared about him once. The social anxiety was real, and you wanted to help him and grow together, but he let go of your hand. You were just paying back what was owed.

You turned to Satan and frowned. His eyes were like those of a caged animal, parts afraid, but parts ready to rip the keeper limb from limb if they dared approach. “Well, if it isn’t Lucifer’s precious little boy. His happy little accident.” You grinned wickedly and his eyes widened. “An amalgamation of some of his worst parts, but nothing left to stand on your own.” You raised a finger and he rose to his feet without hesitation. “At least you know a few tricks.” You continued, “Maybe show me what you did to me that one time.” His eyes widened, as his body levitated in the air and crashed into the wall behind him. Maybe it was your own influence, but the wall around him seemed to erupt as he went back as far as the wooden and stone beams lining the foundation of the home. Dust and cobwebs and construction fell around him and sent plumes of dust around the room, but you just stood and stared with your hands in your pockets. “Make yourself comfortable.” You said and his body began to grind into the beams and plaster with every bit of harshness and pain you had felt tenfold. You could see the veins straining in his neck and chose to let him slowly grind to a halt. His skin blazed a brilliant red from beneath his shirt, up his neck and to his ears.

“Are you angry?” You raised an eyebrow with a bored tone. “You’re so predictable, but it makes sense. You’re a product of a single emotion so how complex could you really be, right?” You didn’t wait for an answer as you mused over his existence, “Born from rage, you were conceived from trauma, but lots of people were so don’t let that get you down. You were never wanted and never meant to be anything more than a product of the worst moment of Lucifer’s life.” Your smile widened just a bit and the lights were dancing in your eyes. “You’re nothing more than an extension of someone else, and because of that you’ll never be whole. You can read every book from the Great Library of Alexandria, but that won’t teach you what it means to feel. You can read about people’s lives and their dreams, but that won’t give you your own. You’ll never be able to be anything more than what you were after the fall. Wrath and hate and violence. You’re no more than a shade with one purpose and that’s just to be. So controlled by your rage, do you even have a free will or to this day, do you still unconsciously act on Lucifer’s feelings? Could you ever exist without him? Do you even exist now?” For once, it looked like the demon would shed tears from anger, but you didn’t care. The look on his face was kind of cute in a way.

“Also, before I forget, you’re a pretentious prick. Yeah, you’re well-read but how could you not be when it’s the only way you know to live? You try not to be like Lucifer, but you’re copy. Wake up! Everything you loathe about him you have right in here.” You point to your heart, “And that’ll never go away as long as you live. You could never exist without him, but he can without you, and you know that.” He stared at you from his crucifixion pose in the common room’s wall and it looked like all of the fight had left him. He almost looked like the cute kittens he loved so much. You had bested Wrath.

You turned on Asmodeus and could see the teeth chattering behind his lips. You stood above him and scrutinized his features. Was he beautiful? Well, everyone else said so. What were you not getting?

"The Jewel of the Heavens," you started, "turned public toilet."

The tears spilled from his eyes and that fueled you. You had cried in front of him so many times; His words dressed you down to every insecurity you stupidly shared when you trusted him, and he turned them into knives and spit poison at you. Everyone had flaws, but his fault was acting like he had none. He was a huge slut with no self worth, yet acted like something to be treasured. "Free to use."

"You think people like being around you? You think they love you?" You began, "but people only like what you can do for them or what you let them do to you, Asmodeus." Your voice took on the faux compassionate tone his would take when giving you 'advice' and you even gingerly placed a hand over your chest and tilted your head, eyes boring into his own. "People don't want to hear your opinions. It doesn't even matter if you lay there like a dead fish, because dildos and fleshlights don't need feelings."

"That 'love' is dopamine, sweetie. When people cum, they feel a rush of neurochemicals that trigger pleasure, motivation, and desire. People will say anything before post-nut clarity kicks in and one of the biggest little lies they'll say is that they love you." You looked down at him like you truly pitied him and maybe you did. Even you wouldn't let yourself be as delusional as he is. "People don't love you, but they sure love fucking you, and you're not too picky as long as someone throws a few compliments your way. When you tried to get me into bed after complimenting your hair, I thought: This bitch is a lost cause." You grinned recalling that memory that seemed so long ago.

Your brows furrowed and the smile you sent looked apologetic, as if you were trying to break the news gently, “Y’know, Asmo…” You started—spurred on by his puffy and red face, wet cheeks, snot, and shaking lips—“How your powers don’t work on me?” You stared him deep in the eyes with a smile that he once called beautiful. “Maybe I’m not immune, and maybe you’re just a basic little bitch.” His expression shattered into a million pieces and the tears were back in full force. “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and I’ve always been able to see right through you. So, maybe I can see your disgusting insides on the outside? Something about you was always a little disgusting to me. Everyone and anything could touch you and your touch felt like an infection to me. I washed my sheets at least three times after you slept in my bed." you shivered involuntarily. "Something just made my skin crawl, y'know?” You added conversationally like you were shooting the shit on an average Sunday afternoon.

“You embody your sin just like the others and you’re good at what you do, but would your fans feel the same if they could really see you? The insecurities and the viciousness are really ugly, and you do not wear them well, darling. You can fluff yourself up as much as you want, but we both know what you truly see in the mirror and it’s not pretty. You take care of yourself, but what’s left? Nothing. Asmodeus, you want love, but the only love you can get is physical and skin-deep. I promise you that no one could stand to be around you for five minutes if they had to do anything with you other than fuck. How could I stand you? Because I accepted it. I accepted the ugly parts because everyone has them, and I didn’t hold you to the impossible standards that you did.” You sighed as if tired with him and it all, “But for a former Jewel of the Heavens and fifth demon lord, you’re pretty fucking bland. Safe and without substance.

“You can fill the holes in your head and your ass, but you’ll never fill the one in your heart. You can’t give love and you can’t get it, sweetie. I pray you never lose that face cause you’ll really have nothing left.” You smiled as if giving heartfelt advice and turned your back to him just as quickly. He was shut out and discarded like last week's trend

Your eyes found Beelzebub but his were looking anywhere, but at you. He knew what guilt felt like, but never did anything about it. “There’s my big strong protector.” You could see his Adam’s apple bob. “Well, you’re good at protecting everyone else. You’ve got Lucifer’s back even though you don’t know what’s going on most of the time, and you could even back up a murderer over me.” His eyes found yours now. “You try to be the strong silent protector, but you’re more of a bitch-ass hypocrite than Mammon. Clap it up.” You clapped for him with a grin, “You’re as much of a drain as Leviathan and a one dimensional, listless doll as Satan. You were always good at following the others, after all.

“You hold onto the past and let it tear you up inside and you eat to fill the emptiness for a little bit, but you’ll never be whole, Bumble Bee.” The nickname made his heart ache. “You’re an empty hole that’ll never be filled just like Asmodeus, and the same way you followed Lucifer into Hell, you’ll follow anyone because you don’t think for yourself and probably couldn't even if you tried. If you weren’t a shadow or up Belphegor’s ass, you’d be nothing, and it’s sad you’ve never realized this. You think you’re kind and compassionate? You’re a dumbass that follows the leader, let’s not dress it up as something else.” You pulled out your ace. You didn’t care what would happen to you. After everything that happened, you’d sure as hell take someone down with you.

“Can we talk about Lilith? You should really stop blaming yourself. What else could you have done? I thought that it wasn’t your fault, but the second time you let someone be killed in front of you I started to notice a pattern. When it was my life on the line, you chose your twin—you always choose that trash in the end.”

You knew that your words should’ve gotten you killed, but your powers were too strong as your words penetrated their minds and nestled in deep. “Just admit it, Bumble. You don’t care about anyone else but keeping him alive even if he’s a genocidal maniac. It’s not sibling love, but dependency because you’re too afraid to live for yourself. No matter who it is, or what stake, you’ll always choose him. I did everything I could to help him for you. You cared so much and were hurting and I…” Your eyes got a little glassy and you paused to stare him down. “I wanted to help you forgive yourself, but you never should. You should live with your decisions for the rest of your shitty life and let the regret eat you from the inside out. I hope that at the end there'll be nothing left of you.”

You stood still for a moment before turning. There were no more smiles, but a burning ice in your veins. Violence hadn’t been your first instinct for so long, but gazing at Belphegor’s neck, it looked so scrawny and you could practically feel the bones breaking in your hands. “Belphegor.” You could feel the rage rolling from him in waves. He would have your life for what you said to his twin, but not if you had his first.

“Did you really think it was over?” You wanted to kick him, to crush his throat, to rip every strand of hair from his head, but that could wait. “What was it about you that made me want to help you? You had his eyes so I trusted you. I shouldn't have been so sentimental.” You gazed at him wistfully, but a chill ran down his spine. “Do you really believe I ever forgave you? Every time you hugged me, I wanted to throw up. When I was alone with you, I felt your hands around my neck and I was fighting as hard as I could, but no one came to help me. It took so long to die. I tried so hard but that meant nothing in the end. I felt myself die and everyone just watched. Surrounded by people, but I was all alone.”

They thought you had forgotten. This timeline’s MC had died, so those shouldn’t have been your memories! It should’ve been a clean slate. They stupidly forgot that if you remembered the good times pre death, how could you not remember the most traumatic event of your life? Your throat was growing tight, and you unconsciously touched you neck, “I can still feel your hands. I can feel the blood vessels bursting in my neck and eyes. You were the last thing I saw as I died, and to the end I was wondering what I did wrong. 'How did I make you turn on me? Did I offend you? I thought I had been helping.'

“But it’s okay, Belphegor. I got a second chance to see where I went wrong and I can see that you were always a greasy bastard so caught up in the past and your survivor's remorse sister complex. I wish God had wiped you out of existence before you even landed. You wanted to end humanity, but you should’ve started with yourself. The problem was always with you. Always you. Blaming your problems on others, you even blamed Beelzebub for saving your sorry ass and I hate that he saved you too. Meeting you was the worst thing that ever happened to me, and I wish I had listened to that arrogant bitch about the stairs, but you should know better than anyone that we can’t go back. We deal with the present.

“Do you think Lilith is proud of you?” his eyes were wild, silently screaming to stop talking, but you continued. “I’ve felt her since my first day here.” You said, and that was the truth. You had never been alone when you arrived, but her form was not enough to interfere or protect you. “She had always been watching you all… She saw everything but loved you anyway.” You were looking him in the eyes and the anger turned to pity at his foolishness, “She. Saw. Everything. She was there when you killed me, and she’s been angry with you ever since. When you fell from Heaven, you fell somewhere too low to reach. You’re irredeemable and I wash my hands of you."

You huffed and softly shook your head like a disappointed parent. “Just do one last thing for me, Belphegor." You looked at him now and he recognized that expression. After a long day of coddling the brothers, you would be emotionally drained but he still sucked every drop of attention you had to offer until you had nothing left to give.

"Close your eyes."

His eyes closed immediately.

“Now, fall into a never-ending nightmare where you’ll feel everything I felt."

You didn't second guess yourself.

"Die then revive and die again—"

He deserved far worse.

"staring up at your own face killing you.”

He was lucky you would let him live.

Beelzebub would’ve yelled out, he would’ve ran to catch his brother from falling to the floor in a heap, but he couldn’t do anything for anyone. Belphegor began to twitch and squirm on the floor, then he started to convulse and buck as if trying to throw someone off of him. His hands desperately clawed at his neck, trying to pry something off —perhaps a pair of hands that had a bone-crushing grip on his windpipe?— but he only tore into his own flesh, drawing bright red gashes. He wheezed, and you could see his chest desperately rising and falling as he choked down shallow breaths until his chest couldn’t rise any more. He fell limp for a few moments, and then reanimated again where he started the horrible cycle all over again. Seeing that your work was done, you turned to the last event.

“Lucifer,” you called softly to him like you did before entering his office, “Have you thought about what you’ve done? No, I’m not talking about the lies and the imprisonment. I’m talking about the threats and the violence and everything you’ve ever done to the first human in your care.” His mouth stayed sealed, and you smiled at the back of his head that was facing you.

Then, you raised a foot and stumped his head further into the floor.

One.

“You always acted like you were better than everyone else.”

Two.

“Because you felt like you were the lowest.”

Three.

“There’s a limit to how much you can fake it, Lucifer.”

Four.

“Everyone can see you for what you are.”

Five.

“An angel fallen from glory desperately clinging to a pride he doesn’t have.”

The violence made you feel a little better, but it didn’t help. You could never change a demon and he would never understand how much he hurt you. “Look at me, Lucifer.” He groggily raised his head and although the fight left his eyes, he was still alert and aware, and his body awaited your command. A brilliant red spread from his broken nose and across his face. How the mighty had fallen. “You hated me from day one and it’s always been mutual. You’re a pompous bitch who thinks he can micromanage everyone around him, and be the pinnacle of perfection we should all strive to be, but don't delude yourself, the only thing you can be proud of is your place at Diavolo’s feet. You went from being a lapdog for one master to another, and you don’t even see it. Maybe you’re not that smart after all.” You tilted your head quizzically. “I hate everything about you because you’re every trait I’ve ever seen in an abuser back in the human world. Mammon takes, and Leviathan manipulates, Satan rages, and Asmodeus tries to destroy people from the inside, and Beelzebub betrays, and Belphegor should’ve been destroyed so many times over.

“And you think you run a tight ship? You think you have the right to discipline me, but you can’t even control your damn family! Everything was falling apart, Lucifer. Everyone hated each other and themselves, and everything was on the brink of imploding because you were too incompetent to keep your little brothers in check. One wanted to destroy humanity and you were too much of a pushover that you couldn't give him a spanking—just sent him to his room and called it a day. Excellent parenting, by the way! No wonder the others are literal goddamned tragedies: They're true testaments to your capabilities as a leader." You hissed through your teeth and looked down at him like an insect too much of a pain to even crush underfoot.

"You’re not superior, reliable or the most capable person in the room. You’re a wine mom trainwreck that’s trying to prettify the disaster that is your life. You're a mess—a walking moral story to never be like you. Never in my life have I ever seen someone ruin everything they fucking touch! In this, you're truly superior." You clapped mockingly. "I may be a human, but you’re a disgrace, and unlike me, you don’t have the capacity to change. Stay bitter and twisted for all of eternity, you melancholic bitch. Every time you look in the mirror see all of the ways you failed everyone you ever cared about, remember that human who almost trusted you and died for it.”

You stepped back and finally exhaled. Anxiety and self-doubt fell from your shoulders. Every way you thought you were undeserving of love was untrue, and you thanked whatever power was out there that you realized it before something irreversible happened. You had been teetering on the edge of oblivion for so long, and tonight may have been the night you ended it all. Checking your phone may have been the thing that brought you back. You chuckled and tilted your head back with your eyes closed. It wasn’t raining but you felt refreshed. “I wasted so much time here stressing over things that never mattered. Killing myself for nothing.” You sighed again and rolled your shoulders, already thinking of plans for the future. You had far too much to catch up on!

But first…You turned on Mammon once again, “Mammon, retrieve my grandmother’s ring in pristine condition. The same way you found it when you stole it from me. I don’t care if you have to lie, cheat, steal, kill or debase yourself in anyway—I want my fucking ring.” Your lips curled, “Even if you have to humiliate yourself, preferably with video evidence, do what needs to be done to get it back.” His face paled and lips trembled pathetically. You weren’t doing anything worse than what Lucifer would’ve done. Honestly, he should be grateful to have such a kind master.

“You have five minutes.” His wings were already ripping from his back and propelling him in the air. “Oh, and Mammon,” he looked to you, and you lifted the corners of your lips with your fingers mockingly, “Do it with a smile!” His mouth contorted into the pained open-mouthed grin of someone trying to hold back tears. You waved him off and turned around to see Danielle standing behind you.

“Oh! Ah… You saw all of that, huh?” You asked sheepishly. Danielle stepped towards you until you were as close as you two had been when she tried to press you back outside, so close you could almost hear her heartbeat pounding in her chest. “I didn’t want to scare you.”

“You didn’t, though!” She was reaching for your hands and taking them in her own. Her hands were so small and soft and a loneliness you had tried to ignore for months hit you at once. When was the last time you felt such warmth? Even holding another’s hand was now foreign territory and your hands shook with nerves. “I told you I was on your side, MC.” She affirmed like you should’ve never doubted her. “I don’t know all that happened, and I won't pretend to, but did they…were you…” She didn’t know if she even wanted to know, but it would explain so much! The fear and the panic attacks and the signs of PTSD were so familiar to her. She had witnessed similar symptoms from abuse survivors, and she had done her best to not isolate you, but then it came to the point that she had to avoid you for your own safety. She took a quivering breath, not aware that her hands held your own tighter and that she was shaking.

“It’s in the past, Danielle.” You squeezed her hands back and released them, drawing away from her as she desperately wanted to reach out and take your hands again.

“I’m leaving. I don’t know where I’m going, but forget about me, okay?” She was about to argue, but your smile and the tender hurt in your eyes silenced her. “You make everything better just by being. Stay here and be happy." You nodded your head affirming your beliefs, "You deserve to be happy.”

“But where are you going? I can go with you!” She was leaning into you, wanting to invade your space, but holding herself back. You tucked a loose strand of silky hair behind her ear and slipped away before she could grab you and never let go. “For now, just forget I was ever here. I want to disappear, but on my own terms.” You began walking to the room that was never yours and she followed after. You two had left the six remaining demons to kneel in the common room completely forgotten.

Slinging your bag over your shoulder, a strangled whine left her throat. You had already packed! You had planned to leave from the start. “If you don’t feel safe here, just tell me or Diavolo or literally anyone else and we’ll take you somewhere safe.” You looked at her with concern, “Do you feel unsafe here, Danielle?” She couldn’t lie. She knew that things were fine for her here, and she couldn’t lie to you just to follow along. She could tell you needed to be away from everything that reminded you of the pain, and that may have included her.

“I’ll be okay, but I won’t forget you and you can’t forget me.” She commanded and you laughed. You both returned to the common room where Mammon was already waiting with the others. He was out of breath and covered in foliage and sweat, but he had made it in time. Extending a hand, he placed your ring into your waiting palm and you turned your back on him without even a glance. Danielle watched you examine the ring and put it on your finger to admire. Your guard lowered the slightest bit as you gazed at the precious keepsake, and she fought the urge to reach out to you. She didn't want to ruin this moment of peace for you.

Soon, you looked up at her refreshed and ready to depart. “If we had met in the human world, I would’ve been drawn to you, y'know?" Your expression became bashful. "I really would've wanted to be your friend.” You said and that only made her sadder. “I wish we could’ve been friends.” She balked at that. “W-we still can be!” You looked at her carefully and then nodded. “Yeah... Yeah, you're right! I still have your number and you have mine.” An easy smile was on your lips as you were once again thinking of the future. “When I get to where I’m going, can I text you?” “You better call!” You both giggled and for a moment, things felt normal.

It was so nice to finally talk to her, but now that you could you were at a loss at what to say. All you wanted to do was open your mouth and let everything spill out.

“I… Danielle, I’ve died every day since being here. Things were so good for a time if I just forgot everything that happened to me and forgave it all, but I was killing myself to make others happy and I don’t want to die again.” Your eyes were glossy with unshed tears, and you tried to sniffle without her hearing. You could read her thoughts and stepped back before she could advance, “Please don’t. If you hug me, I really might break down.” She held her arms to her sides and tried to look composed. She wouldn’t make you cry.

“Promise to call me and I won’t.”

You sniffled and burst out laughing. “Okay, I promise.”

You stood around and smiled at each other while Belphegor spasmed beside you. Her eyes dropped to his form, annoyed that he was ruining her moment before your left.

“What are you going to do about them?” She pointed at him, but you were already walking to the front door. Turning back, you cast a glance at the wreckage you caused: the room that a literal twister had gone through, the blood and bruises and the broken bones and the demon trapped in a nightmare of his own design.

You smiled a devil may care grin, “That's not my problem anymore!” and shut the door behind you.

┊         ┊       ┊   ┊    ┊        ┊

┊         ┊       ┊   ┊   ˚✩ ⋆｡˚  ✩

┊         ┊       ┊   ✫

┊         ┊       ☪⋆

┊ ⊹      ┊

✯ ⋆      ┊ .  ˚

˚✩

You were on autopilot tonight. Your steps felt feather light against the cobblestone that once marked impending doom, and a gentle breeze rustled the leaves around you and filled your lungs with fresh air. This time, you were leaving the House of Lamentation with no intentions of returning and the taste of freedom was sweet on your tongue.

You trusted your instincts to guide your way and found yourself at the gates of the castle. The iron gates stood tall and foreboding before you, but they opened before you could even stop and consider your options. A svelte silhouette stood beneath the moonlight, pressed uniform catching the light in his polished buttons and buckles. “Welcome MC, it’s a little late for a stroll, isn’t it?”

Another elegant figure stood beside the first, clothes and shawl glowing faintly from a fine material out of this world. Posture relaxed yet regal while the other was perfectly poised, they both felt familiar and safe to you. “Right on time! We were on our way to retrieve you, but you came to us.”

Stepping forward you grasped the outstretched hands waiting for your own, and left the shadows behind.

┊         ┊       ┊   ┊    ┊        ┊

┊         ┊       ┊   ┊   ˚✩ ⋆｡˚  ✩

┊         ┊       ┊   ✫

┊         ┊       ☪⋆

┊ ⊹      ┊

✯ ⋆      ┊ .  ˚

˚✩

To be continued~

Hey hey hey~ that line about fixing problems and being given ammo? Totally took that from @romancedeldiablo when we were chatting 😘

@romancedeldiablo @magneticwimp @yaboihack @jisoosupremacist @da-sinnamon-roll @idobvibing @kita-sds @neptune-cinths @anotakugardener @tinygremliin @bby-sparkler @crystal-freak24 @road-k1ll @nice-try-time-isn't-real @ghostl1ykisses @riordanversexreader @blacktailedfox @foxlikeeyes @prefesro @sadgirlstuffsstuff @ckapoteinterreson @flareon2005 @rose2889 @wawadraws12 @maessite @loev4eva @mythsofkairos @keshieowo @itsuki-yuuma @noodlesthesimp @galaxy-luvletters @here-queer-and-confused @gayassfuckinghomosexual @itshimbotime @pen-ink-therapy @deltatauri @scfftyy @beef-noodles-with-eggs @imasimpsstuff @books-and-catears @shoukuto @eunn @saintoshi @sunset-murders @gallantys @curatornil @azaleawisterias @sucker-for-angst-and-fluff @kittykitkatstrawberry @gene-san @obeythebutler @thesadpinkclown @smikys-stuff @ryokuu @jiminslajibolala @galactic-anarchy @venixxvoid @fallowdoe @comfydrem @sutsuxan @suunao @bear-likes-mushrooms @moontofuu @ellykralie @fuegy-fuegy @wonder-alien @reveltica @hislittlecumwhore @chosomybeloved @1On31y-1OOn3y-1Os3r @sukunas-cult-leader

[delusional-angel]

a replaced!mc au pt. I 〚Libertas perfundet omnia luce.〛

"Freedom will flood all things with light."

This work was inspired by the writings of @pen-ink-therapy and @wafermelons who both opened my mind to angst and how cathartic writing and consuming it can be.

part duo

Imagine an alternate universe where the seven avatars who've come to love the MC with everything they have, reject them for another. They were demons all along, cursed to be ruled by their sins for eternity. Finding the strength long buried within themselves, MC will begin a new journey and the brothers will lose what can't be replaced.

Warnings: mental abuse, emotional abuse, acts of violence, body shaming, bullying, suicidal ideation, poor mental health, angst, mentions of familial death.

Note: There will be n/sfw and yandere content in future installments because I am a ✨ w h o r e ✨

You had never realized how long the trek from RAD to the House of Lamentation was until you had to walk it alone. You ambled along in no particular hurry, your steps deliberately slow to put more time between you and your destination. The atmosphere matched the isolation you felt with a slightly damp breeze chilling your bones through your thick uniform and the cold from the cobblestone streets penetrating your shoes. The silence was deafening without chatter filling the empty spaces, so much so that your ears were ringing.

Why were you walking alone? It was a death march where you were forced to go on or be left in the dirt because in your heart you knew that no one would turn back for you.

It was embarrassing, really. Something you would never dare admit to anyone you respected like Solomon, Simeon, and sure as fuck not Barbatos or Diavolo. You had politely declined Solomon’s invitation to walk home together because a part of you worried that it was out of pity. He had seen the strain between your and the brothers’ relationship and you didn’t want him to know to what extent the rift had grown. You didn’t want him to see you at your lowest. You couldn’t stand to see the disappointment you had grown accustomed to reflected in his eyes.

You declined his invitation, feeling ungrateful and even more ashamed, and stayed behind at RAD only leaving when enough students had cleared campus. Then, you would slowly walk home with a pathetic hope in your heart and burning shame on the back of your neck because you hoped with all of your being that someone would notice you weren’t there. Four months ago, someone or a whole group of the brothers would find you on your way back, flustered and worried when they didn’t find you at home yet.

“What took ya so long? I thought ya had already left without me, and then I get home and Beel’s sittin’ by the door like an overfed puppy waitin’ for ya to get back!” Mammon has his hands on his hips, but melts when you smile.

“What have we told you about staying behind? If there’s anything you need, be sure to tell me, sweetie, and I’ll rendezvous with you anywhere.” Asmo gives a conspiratorial wink as if Mammon and Levi weren’t there at all.

Levi huffs, trying to catch your attention, “We have to get snacks for movie night. If we miss the sale for the limited Ruri-pop snacks I’ll never forgive you.” He says this, but he’s already striding towards you and taking your hand with a spontaneous burst of confidence before he loses his nerve.

You once wanted them to stop worrying so much. Nothing bad could ever happen to you when you had them, and you did everything you could (when you weren’t being so reckless) to soothe their nerves.

But now? You missed those suffocating days.

They didn’t notice when you were gone, and if they did, they didn’t even bother to shoot a text. You promised yourself for the last time—really meaning it this time, you swear—that this would be the last time you made your slow walk home in the hopes that someone would come for you. This hope was going to kill you. You could feel it.

Oh no, you were almost there. Your chest was tight, and it was getting harder and harder to breathe. Your lungs were trying to expand, but something was constricting them. You broke out into a cold sweat and your fingertips became ice cold and numb. A weight pressed down onto your shoulders and your vision went spotty. Not now, not here, please don’t have a panic attack. Just get inside, get upstairs, and please breathe.

You stood on the porch, gathering any courage you could find and took the ornate knob in your hand. You couldn’t even feel the icy brass in your numb hand. Twisting softly, as slowly as possible to avoid the tell-tale click that would echo in the foyer and alert your presence, you held your breath. You had found in the four months of growing isolation that going unnoticed was far easier on your heart than being ignored, and you prayed that you could get to your room without being heard or seen, because if you weren’t being ignored you were being—

You opened the heavy door just a bit to slip inside and, in that gap, you saw Danielle perched at the bottom of the stairway like she was waiting for something.

You couldn’t hate her even if you wanted to. Your eyes involuntarily softened as you took her in. If you two had met on earth, you knew that you would’ve been drawn to her and her light. Some people gave off a glow and brightened every room they entered without needing to say a word and she was one of them. A gentle nature paired with a fun personality and a taste for adventure made her hard not to love. Despite everything, you still wanted to be her friend, but you had to stamp those feelings down because you weren’t allowed to be in the same room as her. It was almost like they didn’t deem you fit to breathe the same air as her.

When you had been allowed to speak to her, before they realized how lovely she was and monopolized all of her time—when she could come to your room and stay for a few minutes before she was whisked away with a sneer from a demon—you really got along. She laughed at your jokes with an open-mouthed authenticity you hadn’t seen her do with the brothers. You had liked the same things and had friendly debates on things you disagreed on like you had known each other for years. She told you of her time traveling with a military family. The sights she had seen and the people she met who shaped her into who she was today.

What happened to you wasn’t her fault. However, that made what they did to you hurt even more. They weren’t forced to treat you that way.

It was a choice.

Danielle jumped from her spot and gingerly dashed to you, trying to avoid making the floorboards creak beneath her. Her eyes were alert and anxious, hands held out to push you back out of the front door, her words as hushed as possible but conveying an urgency that made your muscles begin to seize, “You have to go—.”

“MC.” The voice that could silence a room full of buzzing demons and hellspawn spoke your name in a way reserved for inconveniences, “Come here. Now.”

It was Lucifer. You and Danielle stared into each other’s eyes. You felt like you were going to throw up and the sweats were back in full force now. Her hands were still gently pressed against your shoulders as she had frozen too. Her pupils trembled and her lips were drawn into a tight line, but she was the first to move. Exhaling and dropping her hands, she moved to your side and stood shoulder to shoulder with you. She steadied her back resolutely and clasped your hand in her own, locking your fingers together in solidarity.

“I’m not letting you go alone.” She said softly, but with an unshakeable resolve.

The panic came back, though. If she was with you, they would think you were using her as a shield. 'She was too nice, of course she would defend you,' they would say. 'You’re low using such a sweet girl like that, MC. Can’t you take responsibility for anything? What are you so scared for?'

Because you were killed at least once, and you could be killed again any day but you couldn’t say that out loud.

You couldn’t do this. You barely worked up the nerve to get to the front door and now you were—! Why couldn’t they just leave you alone? You completely regretted wanting to be noticed. You should’ve been careful what you wished for.

Danielle felt you standing still as a statue beside her and turned to look at you. You stared ahead into the distance and your breaths were shallow. To her you looked like you were going to battle and she couldn’t deny that feeling. “One step at a time, MC. I’m with you.” She whispered in your ear and took one furtive step while still clasping your hand.

It would be much worse if you kept the avatar waiting. Not even Danielle’s radiant presence could save you then.

You both entered the kitchen where Lucifer decided to lambaste you today. He sat at the dining table, one leg crossed over the other and a hand atop a pile of papers. Beel stood at a corner with his back facing the scene, adding toppings to a mountain of a sandwich. Somehow, he felt Danielle’s presence and tilted around a bit to greet her, “Welcome home, Danielle.” His eyes didn’t even glance in your direction though your eyes searched for his. You hadn’t expected for him to block you out. To his credit, he was the last one who turned against you, holding out for an entire week even.

You pulled yourself from the mournful thoughts because you had more pressing matters at hand. You could feel Lucifer’s glare on you but couldn’t meet his eyes. Maybe if you kept your head down you could fade away. He observed your and Danielle’s hands clasped together, well…her hand was holding yours, but you still couldn’t feel your fingertips to return the gesture. All you could feel was your palm sweating against hers. He glanced up into her eyes, a silent question in his own, but her brows furrowed as she frowned in response.

He turned his attention back towards you, a harder edge to his glare and words after seeing Danielle choose your side. He lifted a sheaf of papers from the pile and asked a simple question, his tongue working over the words as if it was so simple that even a toddler could answer.

“Do you know what these are?” You looked up with your head still bowed slightly, not having the courage to expose your entire face in the light. You squinted slightly at the white sheets and blank spaces. They looked like school assignments, but why were they…?

“Don’t make me repeat myself again.”

Danielle’s hand gripped yours tighter and you could feel a slight tremor from her arm pressed against your own.

Your tongue felt numb, your syllables clumsy making you feel more incompetent by the second, “I-I…Those l-l-look like…” You took a shaky breath. Compose yourself. You just need to say one sentence. Just one simple answer and maybe you can just be silent and take the verbal lashing. “Those l-look like school—” your voice slurred, and you pronounced ‘school’ oddly, but you forced yourself to continue. “look like school papers…” your voice dropped into a hush around the end. You sounded like a vulnerable child about to receive punishment for acting naughty, but you were an adult god damn it! Why were you made to feel this way?

“Very good.” A cold smile that didn’t meet his eyes, tone dripping in sarcasm and venom ready to inject into your veins. “Now, would you enlighten me as to why they’re incomplete?”

Your eyes widened and you went rigid. If you made a move your muscles would scream bloody murder as now you were suffering a full body muscle spasm brought on by your anxiety. Fight, flight, freeze or faint.

“Some papers were half completed, but turned in. Then, they stopped being touched at all. So, tell me, MC: Why do you choose to shame me in front of Lord Diavolo by showing your complete disregard towards his program and goals?”

Your mind went blank, but fragmented thoughts were racing at the same time. You tried to keep up with work, but then you couldn’t finish. And then, the assignment deadlines would pass and it would be too late to turn them in. You quickly lost your resolve to even try, because even if you tried your best, it wasn’t good enough. You couldn’t do anything right.

Danielle interjected when she could tell that your mouth went dry. “They’re doing the best they can, Luci.”

“But their best isn’t good enough!” His roar ripped through the air and blasted against you both. Danielle’s knees almost buckled and now you were bracing yourself against her to keep her upright.

His exclamation brought an audience. Levi came to the door with a scowl on his face, “Can’t you yell at them somewhere else? A raid is about to start!”

Somehow, Satan had moved to the kitchen with his nose buried in a book. You had realized his pretentious ass feigned reading when he was really just eavesdropping. He had to maintain an image of sophistication masking his actual pettiness at all times.

Mammon sauntered in with the widest grin on his face. He looked to you and then Lucifer and then back to you again. He was practically glowing in satisfaction when he gave you a thumbs up, “It’s nice ta have Lucifer yellin’ at someone else for a change. Nice goin’, human!” It was always ‘human’ nowadays, just like when you first got here. You think he forgot your name.

“Enjoy it now, Mammon.” Said Asmo. “That one won’t be here to always take away Lucifer’s attention.” He smiled sweetly, but gasped when he saw Danielle beside you. That smile became a sneer when he saw your hands. He held out his own and hurriedly beckoned to her like you were contagious. “Come here, darling. You don’t want to waste your time here with the same old, same old.”

Danielle nearly balked, but she turned her attention back to Lucifer. “You’re being too harsh. MC has been—”

Lucifer raised his hand to silence her and massaged his temples like you were bringing on a migraine. “Apparently I haven’t been harsh enough. If this mere mortal feels that they can skate by without consequence and smear my reputation with their ignorance, I have not been harsh enough. That was my failing as their better.” He sighed but straightened himself up into the pinnacle of authority he had always been. His back straight and eyes now trained on you and you alone. “So, what do you think I should do with you, human?”

You unconsciously tucked your chin like a frightened child. You stared at the marble floor, but mentally you were miles away where no one could touch you. You had to remove yourself from the situation because if you took it all in, you would break into a million pieces and never be fixed. You managed to turn your ears off a bit to dull the banter from the sidelines into a soft buzz.

You shouldn’t have done that.

You were brought back to the present when a gloved hand clamped around your jaw and raised you head so high your neck ached and popped. His thumb and fingers pressed into you, putting pressure on your teeth, and bruising your skin and gums. Despite it all, your lips were the only things that could move as they trembled.

“Look at me when I am speaking to you.” Please don’t look into his eyes because if you do, you’ll truly break down, and it’ll be pathetic and it’ll be the last ounce of dignity you have being shattered against the floor. You’ll burst into tears and you’ll never stop, but if you don’t meet his eyes now, you feel that he’ll break your jaw in his grip.

Your eyes darted up, intending a quick glance but when you saw those red eyes directly for the first time in months it hit you at full force. Distaste and revulsion were the first emotions you could feel rolling off of him in waves. You had always been in tune with their feelings, but recently, you had prayed you could stop being so aware. Being blissfully ignorant could have saved you so much damage.

Brilliant hellfire eyes stared you down and took your breath away. He was trying to find something, but you could feel the realization hit him, and disappointment wash over his features.

He nearly whispered but his voice had a quality that carried so that everyone could hear him, “To this day, I do not understand what possessed me to choose you. All for some angelic blood so diluted over millennia that there’s nothing of value left.”

That’s what broke you.

He shoved your face away in disgust and you managed to straighten your neck before you got whiplash. A thick sob tore from your throat and hiccups became pained wails as you bowled over with your forehead pressed against the cool marble tiles. Now that it started, you couldn’t stop. Wails became choked sputters and then you began to hyperventilate. You needed to breathe! You were gasping with all you had, greedily gulping like a suckerfish, but nothing was going down. Lack of air caused lightheadedness and you swayed on your knees.

Your eyes were open, you knew they had to be, but salty tears and technicolor blurs obscured your vision, compounding the nausea building its way up inside of you. You couldn’t breathe and if you threw up you felt you’d suffocate and drown. Your throat tried to reject whatever the nausea was trying to expel from within you, but you hadn’t eaten anything of substance in so long that you merely dry heaved pathetically. You didn’t have to look up to see the complete revulsion from the demons standing above you.

“Gross~ I didn’t know normies could make those sounds.”

“It’s like they’re hacking up a hairball.”

“I hope Danielle can’t do anything like that.”

“Don’t be crazy! Of course not!”

The words make it even worse, but please block it out. You have to hold on. This panic attack was unlike any you had ever felt and not only were you physically bracing yourself, but you were also trying to hold on to your mind with trembling hands. You were going over the edge, and you were the only one who could grab your hand and save you from the fall.

You had seen mental breakdowns before. Even if the person survived there would be something off in their eyes. They could recover, but they would never be the same and you couldn’t risk losing yourself. You were the only you that you had.

Four months. Four months could undo a year of hard work. A year of baring your soul and trusting your heart to them. If they didn’t kill you, you just might.

“MC, please!” Danielle was kneeling beside you. How long had she been there? You hadn’t noticed. “Listen to my voice.” She placed her hands over your mouth, firm but gentle. “You have to breathe slowly. Breathe through the gaps in my fingers.” She had to sidle over to wrap an arm around you in your hunched over position.

“What are you doing, Danielle?” a bewildered exclamation came from someone, “What if they throw up on you?” That was their main concern.

“Breathe deeply into your diaphragm and hold it, okay? Ten seconds, that’s all you have to do.” She spoke softly over your shoulder, and you tried to follow her instructions. Shallow breaths wracked your frame, but you tried to stabilize for her. You didn’t want to waste her kindness.

Polished dress shoes stood in front of you, signaling who towered over you. You didn’t have to look up to see his face. You knew.

“You can only manipulate someone so much until you’ve exhausted your welcome, MC.” He dropped the papers over you, “Aren’t you tired of inconveniencing others? I believe we’ve all been very hospitable towards you. All things considered.”

You turned your head just slightly to look towards the counter nearest the refrigerator. Beelzebub still stood there with a slice of bologna hanging from his mouth. His eyes met yours and he held your gaze for a few seconds before turning away. In a matter of seconds he had deemed it all too much to deal with and you not worth the effort. Family came first and you weren't on the same level. Not anymore. Probably never.

You gave a final exhale as you pressed your forehead against the tile once more. You knelt in a humiliating prostration at the feet of one of the most powerful demons as a fellow human had her hand over your mouth, instructing you how to breathe.

It was almost funny.

“Go to your room and finish all of these assignments. Don’t even think of coming for dinner as I don’t want to see your miserable face.” He looked down his nose at Danielle but couldn’t muster any anger towards her. “It would be beneficial for everyone.”

‘Beneficial like when you lied to your brothers and kept one trapped in an attic because you didn’t want to admit how fucked your family was to your boss? Like how you claim to care about your family but you wag your tail like a bitch in heat whenever anyone even says Diavolo's fucking name? You hide behind your role as a 'dutiful aid' to 'his highness,' but you’re truly just a fucking coward.’ you thought, and it shocked you how it came so smoothly. You never allowed yourself to criticize them before so where was this coming from?

You whispered to Danielle, “You should go.” It could get worse if you took up anymore of her attention and you could feel the claws coming out.

“See!” Asmo exclaimed, “MC’s so ungrateful that they don’t even want your attention so just come with us, okay?” He extended his hand again and after giving one final glance towards you she reached out to him. If Asmo was rejected in favor of another, it would not bode well for all parties involved.

“To your room. Now.” Lucifer kicked up dust, maybe involuntarily, maybe intentionally as he left you where you were.

You could hear shuffling. Several pairs of feet moving away and circling the girl like a caged canary that brought them so much joy. You were left with the silence and once again your ears began to ring.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

┊         ┊       ┊   ┊    ┊        ┊

┊         ┊       ┊   ┊   ˚✩ ⋆｡˚  ✩

┊         ┊       ┊   ✫

┊         ┊       ☪⋆

┊ ⊹      ┊

✯ ⋆      ┊ .  ˚

˚✩

Back in ‘your’ room tucked off of the kitchen, you sat at the desk with your eyes closed. This wasn’t your room. You had been made aware that you were merely inhabiting a space here in the brothers’ home on the Demon Lord’s orders. Nothing more. While you were merely a guest, they had refurbished and given Danielle a room upstairs so that she could be closer to them. She noticed the inequality, so you told her you liked having a quiet little spot. She pretended to believe you.

Your head still spun, but you were feeling better as you held on to the little peace you had. The small act of defiance. That comeback you had for Lucifer invigorated you although you kept it locked tight in your head. When had you ever truly rebelled? When you found the attic room and freed Belphegor so that he and his oldest brother could reconcile? When you risked your life—and died—for their sakes?

You always played nice, but at what cost?

Your identity.

Your self-worth.

When was the last time you put yourself first? Maybe a little before you first met the brothers, and then self-preservation came secondary to fixing their plethora of identity crises and daddy issues.

You were truly at your lowest point in life, you could feel it. The emotional turmoil transformed into physical pains that crushed your lungs and strained your heart. An incessant throb wracked your brain and shuffled already scattered thoughts. Freezing cold hands wouldn’t stop trembling and the lights in this room felt too bright. This was the worst you had ever felt down in the devildom, and none of the demons under your pact came to console you. You could feel traces of them in the pact marks that only glowed when you called for them, but you felt nothing coming back from their end. You knew for a fact that they could tell when you were sad and hurting—they had always broken down the door to get to you before you even realized you were sad—but not anymore. The throb in the back of your head dulled when you realized they were ignoring it all. Like muffling a ringing phone beneath a pillow, they would stifle your psychic calls until they stopped coming.

Your D.D.D vibrated in your pocket, catching you completely by surprise. You paused for a moment, not knowing what to do with it, but you gingerly plucked it from your pocket and slowly raised it to your face to look at the notification. From the Solomon, Luke and Simeon group chat.

Solomon: MC? Did you get home safely? I was waiting for your ‘I’m home’ text or call and it’s already been 15 min.

Simeon: Lokw os

Simeon: Luke os bry

Simeon: Luke is vry

Solomon: ‘Luke is very angry with me for not walking you home and he’s refused to speak to either of us until you call him and let him know that you’re safe.’ Did I get all of that, Simeon?

Simeon: （*’∀’人）♥

Solomon: Luke, I can tell you’re reading in the chat.

Solomon: Your leaving just proved it.

Solomon: sigh…MC…Please just let me know where you are. We’re worried about you. We always have been.

Simeon: MC, please remember what I told you. I’ve never forgotten.

Luke: （＊〇□〇）……！

Solomon: I agree, Luke. Maybe he’s using talk-to-text? But that’s beside the point. MC, we’re giving you 45 minutes to respond, and if you don’t, we’ll come get you ourselves. Luke is still pouting in the corner.

Luke has left the chat.

What the hell… When did the tears stop? You touched your cheek to find that the tear tracks had dried and a hesitant smile traced your lips. Even when you had been at your lowest… They had always been watching you. Remember what Simeon had said?

He had asked for you to meet him in the art classroom after school had ended. He leaned back against the drying rack and the flowing sheer curtains fluttering around him in the evening breeze was a sight to see. When he noticed you enter, a gentle smile tinged with regret graced his features. Everything he did took your breath away, even after knowing each other for over a year.

“I’m glad you could make it. I was willing to wait all night.” He smiled.

“Of course, I came! I didn’t want to keep you waiting.” You shuffled in and plopped down your bag, taking a seat so he had your full attention. He must’ve had something important to say and you were worried. This was only a month into the new exchange program so you had hoped no one would notice a change in you. Silly MC, how could you evade the watch of an angel?

“I just wanted to be alone with you,” He began, finding the words to not scare you away, “I wanted to make sure that you understand how much you mean to me.” Your eyes started to burn. You sniffled to avoid any dripping issues, but if he said anymore you wouldn’t be able to hold your emotions back.

“MC, please know that you’re never alone.” You shook your head and looked down. “I know, I know.” Agree with him now before he says anymore because if he does, you will break down and it won’t be pretty.

Dammit he wasn’t stopping.

He smoothly dropped on bended knee and carefully took your balled-fists into his hands. He looked up at you with aquamarine eyes like you were the finest jewel to him. “I cannot do anything until you ask me to. I cannot act until I am given permission. I watch and I’ve always been watching, and I’m worried for you, MC.”

You bowed your head, the tears falling into your lap. “Whenever you need or want me, even if it’s for nothing at all, please tell me. I will always be here.”

That was three months ago now, and you didn’t do it. The more time that passed, the worse things got and the more embarrassed you would be to admit all that you went through. It was also embarrassing how much it all hurt you. If only you knew that the people who cared wouldn’t pity you, but instead would be furious for your sake.

A warmth bloomed in your heart as you reread the group chat over and over. Months spanned over a year and there had always been warmth. Laughs, security, jokes and shared knowledge. Plans to meet up, discussing the fun had afterwards, learning more and more about each other when one of them couldn’t fall asleep and then a sleepy rambling Luke waking up too because he also wanted to talk to you at night. Then, him falling asleep with the D.D.D in his hand and accidentally typing more gibberish.

You were grinning now, gazing at the screen that comforted you. You needed to organize your priorities right now. Get it all out on the table, see what you needed and what you didn’t and move on from there. The love that you felt for the angels and Solomon, and even Diavolo and Barbatos couldn’t be crushed so easily, but you had also felt this way about the brothers until very recently.

You didn’t stop loving them, you were saving yourself.

One month, was simply being forgotten.

“I’m sorry, MC! I thought Levi would tell you.”

“Why did you think that? I was sure Mammon would tell!”

“I was so focused on the slots, of course I couldn’t think of anything’ else!”

With the second month, came the cold shoulder.

“You wanted to go, MC? I didn’t think that club was your scene, y’know? So many different people, I didn’t want you to get stressed out.”

“I saw the new café and Danielle was the first person I thought of. You can come next time if you want.”

“I have the worst luck when I’m with ya so I asked Danielle to come instead, and then I won like twenty racks! Ya can’t ruin this for me now!”

“It’s a more upscale restaurant and I knew that Danielle could hold her own with the affluent better than you could.”

The third month solidified your worst fears:

Mammon hit you the hardest. You noticed him beginning to pull away. You only got to hang out with Danielle a bit before the rest realized how wonderful she was. Soon, Mammon would come cozying up to her. Burying his head under her chin and wrapping his arms around her waist, begging for affection like he would do to you just a week prior. He didn’t have time for hanging out anymore, but always had plans to do something with Danielle as he nervously prepped to have some time with her.

He was always a bit money hungry, but you already knew that. However, you didn’t expect he would treat you like meat.

You found the pictures on social media. Candid photos of you whether in class or at home when you were minding your own business. None of them were risqué, but there was a voyeuristic perverted quality as a hidden camera spied on the seemingly most vulnerable human at RAD. The source led to him, and there was a fight to which he never apologized until the end. Mammon was selling photos of you to greedy buyers with unconventional interests and fantasies. The one brother who would protect you with his life was using your image to make chump change to fund his outings with Danielle.

Diavolo found out and reprimands were in order. When Lucifer scolded mammon at home, it was for being caught and he didn’t mention a single thing about your autonomy! You were scolded as well, because surely, Diavolo heard about it from the scene you made.

This was the first true betrayal.

It would get worse.

The last few times you joined Mammon and Danielle at the casino, he swore she was his lucky charm. He once kept you close, never out of arms-length because he was sure Lady Luck was guiding his hand when you were around. Now, he had Danielle blow on his dice and he won big every time. He treated you like a pestilent, sending you out of view. Danielle would try to find you in the crowd and he would lie and say you were at the slots or something. You watched from the corner as he told a bald-faced lie and notice that Danielle’s brows would knit in concern and her lips frown as she tried to search for lies. She didn’t feel right about this, but she didn’t know what she could do with his grip on her forearm rooting her in place.

The last time you went, you dressed to the nines. You were going to have fun with Danielle even if it killed you. Mammon didn’t glance or compliment you even once, but you caught her eye and she tried to keep close to you all night, keeping you near to talk even when Mammon fumed with you so close to the table as he kept her as close as possible.

He lost some and started taking shots. His temper was flaring, and you could feel static heat racing up your spine. “Would you like to dance?” Danielle stretched out her hand for yours and you took one step towards her and your shoe broke. “Told ya, they’re unlucky.” He snickered and grabbed for Danielle once more.

“I’ll help you—!” she started but you already raised a palm and told her you would be alright. You’d go ask for a spare or something. She frowned and didn’t turn away even when you disappeared in the crowd, Mammon forcing her to turn her back and pulling her into the mass of bodies on the dancefloor. You went home and crawled into bed.

Levi was always immature when it came to something he was passionate about. He didn’t like being beaten in games, but he hated when his partners weren’t up to standard.

“You’ve never even played before. Why did I let you on my team?” He whined as he saved you from an enemy. He had never been like this before. He had always been grateful when you showed interest in the things he liked and actually tried to get into them with him, but he found someone else he found more suitable.

You were having trouble aiming at a distant target and being watched so critically definitely wasn’t helping. “Come on, just shoot already!” You shot and missed at the enemy that pinned him down. His player character was shot in the head and the round ended with your team losing and the failed music track filling the room to rub it in.

He threw his arms out with a scream, just furious with the outcome and knowing it wasn’t his fault, when his knuckles clipped your front tooth. You reeled back, tears prickling your eyes and blood gushing from your mouth like a broken dam. It felt like every nerve ending in your head was exposed and screaming. Willing the tears away, you managed to force you eyes open to stare dumbly at the broken tooth in your hand.

“It wasn’t my fault! You were in the way! This wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t lost us the match.” He sat back and crossed his arms indignantly. The Levi you knew would have tripped over himself rushing to your aid, trying to recall every medical scene from his anime that he could pull from to help you. This Levi huffed and didn’t even apologize. You had to collect your self and stumble to the bathroom to rinse off and staunch the constant flow of blood. Then, you would make your way to Purgatory Hall to ask Simeon to repair your tooth.

He looked like he had been burned.

His eyes had never widened so much, blue irises losing color and nearly becoming white as he staggered back against the wall behind him. He bit his bottom lip before gently asking questions.

“MC…”

“It was an accident.”

“I can only act if you tell me…”

“It was an accident.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“I’m sorry.”

He bonded your tooth for you in silence and you left feeling like you had betrayed him. When you returned home, no one mentioned the incident. No one had noticed and Levi hadn’t told. You stopped hanging out with him after that. If you made too much noise he would pound on your ceiling to shut up, but you could hear his enthusiastic wails all hours of the day. You began to really hate his voice.

You hated all of their voices.

Satan had always been a pretentious prick, but it couldn’t be helped because he was well read, right? Where you once had book exchanges and discussed your thoughts, he would rush through the books you lent him to return them before you could even finish one of the books he loaned you. Where he once listened thoughtfully to your opinions, his eyes glazed over waiting for you to finish. His body language and actions even started to rush you. Rolling his eyes, body facing somewhere away from you, making hand gestures to go on.

When he did respond, it was to tell you why your analysis was wrong and that you clearly missed the mark. 'You just couldn’t see the author’s true intentions and it's upsetting because it's hard to miss.' in his humble opinion. He claimed to be upset because there were so many books he wanted to share with you, but you foolishly couldn’t read the languages.

The next moment, you saw him patiently teaching Danielle the dead languages so that she could read with him.

“You just don’t get it do you?”

“I knew your limited brain capacity wouldn’t keep up, but I still hoped…”

“This isn’t worth it. Just return the book.”

You feared for your life again when you left a book you had borrowed in your desk at school. “I-I’m sorry, Satan, but I can run back to campus and get it back!” You were already putting your shoes back on at the front door, but that couldn’t save you.

“You idiot! That was one of only five copies in the three realms, and you ‘left it at school’?” He mocked your voice. “How could you handle other people’s property so lightly? How could you be so inconsiderate? Had you always been this way or was I just too blind to see it?”

He advanced towards you and you staggered back into the wall on instinct. You felt so small as your body trembled in the corner. It was an accident, but every word would only be an excuse and make things worse.

“I should’ve never let you borrow something so valuable; that was my fault, but I’ll be sure that you never make the same mistake again.” His sclera had shifted into blood red and his teeth were too big for his mouth, but you could hear every threat clear as day. You could still hear them clearly in your head whenever you were alone.

He couldn’t physically harm you due to the pacts, but he could have you hurt. An upwards palm from him had your body lifting into the air, your fingers on the wall not keeping you stationary. A sideward slash sent you spiraling into a distant wall outside of the kitchen. You crashed into it on your back. Having recently been reinforced, your body hadn’t crashed through it entirely, the wood, steel, and plaster crushing around you and cushioning your impact with jagged scraping edges. The back of your head took it hard, and your vision went white for a few painfully long seconds. Your shoulder blades caught jagged pieces. You could feel your shirt ripping and the sting of fresh cuts bleeding and mixing with the dust and insulation.

He huffed as if he had been overexerted, you could see beads of sweat on his temples. He was tense from rage he couldn’t act on and the restraint made him even angrier. “Never show yourself in front of me again!”

And you didn’t from that day forward. You were left to pry yourself from the wall, drop to the floor, and drag yourself back to your room where you lay exhausted. You never told anyone about this and certainly didn't ask Simeon to patch you up. You tried your best to disinfect to avoid infection and couldn't care about the possibility of scarring.

The wall had been repaired with no questions asked. The others joked about Satan’s anger issues being almost as expensive as “Beel’s” and that was that.

Asmodeus was the most venomous. You had always known it, but chose to focus on his inner beauty. Famous last words.

“I didn’t invite you because the clothes won’t fit you. They cater to more…” He looked thoughtfully, “A more elegant figure, you know?”

“You just don’t have the look, sweetie.”

He had once called you beautiful.

“Just look up some routines on Deviltube if you need help.” He would answer flippantly with a gesture to go away, not even looking in your direction.

Your self-care days were over.

“Oh, you’re still wearing that? I guess you could say it’s retro despite only being two season old…You do you, sweetie!”

You used the old clothes he once bought you because you didn't go shopping with anyone and didn’t know where to go. You could ask the Purgatory Hall boys but the risk of making them feel like your second choice would devastate you.

“Are you sure you want to eat that, MC?” you had grown used to his saccharine concerns as a sheer shroud over malicious intent. He gazed at you up and down before pouting in thought.

“I’m just worried about you,” he continued, “You’ve been getting a little…how do I say it?” He touched his temple in thought and as if a lightbulb lit over his head, he gleefully grabbed nonexistent fat around his mid-section and pretended to squeeze at it.

“You’re getting a little round around here. I’ve noticed your uniform is getting tighter, honey. You’ll have to get new measurements done at the school store.” He giggled coquettishly.

He found you alone in the kitchen rummaging the bare pantry where you found an open box half-filled with stale crackers. That would be your dinner and you were grateful for it.

Despite not having a meal in so long, you tended to bloat from water being your only food. You could get a pack of crackers from school sometimes if you could get to the vending machines and it was always a blessed day when Luke found you and forced you to share his lunchbox.

Not having eaten something with substance in so long, however, would make you sick in a few bites and have you holding back vomit until you could sneak to a bathroom. You hoped Luke didn’t think it was his cooking, so you started disappearing around lunch time. There was no food to pack a lunch at home and no food was ever saved for you. You couldn’t have breakfast or dinner because Satan would be there, Beelzebub would eat your plate no matter how early you arrived, and Asmodeus seemed to take a sick interest in watching you eat.

“I’m just trying to help you be a better you.” He said, “I know it’s hard work, and you may feel it’s hopeless, but even you could polish yourself, you know?”

You stared at him as pain built behind your eyes. There was so much you could say, but if you tried to open your mouth the dam would break. You kept the crackers and went to your room. “Good talk, by the way!” He called after you.

You hope he chokes.

Beelzebub considered himself a silent protector, but he was simply a bystander to it all. You once worked out together, attended all of his games, and he even dedicated his wins to you even when you told him it was all his hard work. Now, he changed his workout times like he was avoiding you and didn’t keep to the routines you two made. He never had time and didn’t invite places. You used to run errands together and now, he said you couldn’t come, or he just plainly didn’t want you there.

How did this happen?

He stopped inviting you to games, stopped reserving tickets so that you could see him as close as possible in his glory. Those seats were reserved for Danielle and you had to feign disinterest in sports so she wouldn’t feel bad. You fell out of the school spirit scene.

He passed you by in the hallways both at home and school, and he stopped trying to hold himself back from gobbling your food. It was now him glancing at your taken aback expression and giving a firm, “You snooze you lose.” Which everyone minus Danielle thought was so hilarious.

You realized you were food soon after.

You were awakened by a crunching. Snaps and crunches drew your attention to a large and dark figure huddled over the vanity. This mass was darker than black and you had no problem finding it in the gloom. “So hungry…” It groaned and you knew who it was. “Beel.”

His head whipped around, eyes flashing in the dark like a beast’s. Yellow and glowing in the dark room, this startled you and you immediately flicked on the bedside lamp. He held old jars of creams and unused makeup and other things you stopped giving a shit about. Lipstick tubes were hanging from his maw and his eyes were glazed over, as he was concerned with one thing and one thing only. “Beel, you’re sleepwalking.” “So hungry…”

You huffed, and moved to get up so you could gently steer him to the kitchen. You startled when you noticed he was so close and already looming over you. His expression hadn’t changed. “So hungry…” The groan was now a growl. “Beel, please wa—!” His hand, so large and hot, was gripping your forearm in a second. He squeezed and wrenched it upward and towards his gaping mouth. Had he always had rows of sharp teeth?

“Beel, stop!” And he froze. His eyes were still blank, but he followed your command. “Let me go and get out of here!” Your shrieks alerted the rest of the house as they all shambled in to see what was disturbing the rare night of them all being asleep at once. “What is the meaning of this, MC?”

“Beel, get out and don’t come back!” He released your hand and was already mindlessly shuffling from the room, the brothers sending him worried looks as he retreated.

“I will have an explanation, MC.” Lucifer was in your face and standing at full height like his presence was enough to earn some obedience from you. You had used your pact for once, and felt reassured for the first time in so long that you didn’t recognize what it felt like.

“He was trying to eat me.” You responded gruffly, glaring up at him and over the bullshit.

He looked taken aback at your direct stare, but quickly frowned harshly. “That’s what he does. He sleep eats.” He acts like he’s explaining something to a child, but you’re only getting angrier.

“That doesn’t give him the right—”

“You’re merely prey to him!” He booms before you can bring up a very valid point and the words die on your tongue. He must have authority at all times, and he will force it from your hands before he loses it to a mere human.

He turns to the remaining brothers sans Beelzebub and Belphegor who was still asleep. No one had come to your defense and Danielle tended to sleep in headphones so she hadn’t heard you.

“Everyone back to your rooms,” he called to them, signally that this little thing was over. He turned to you with a withering look before he left you in silence again, “I will not have another disturbance from you.”

The door slammed shut behind him.

Could you ever have truly trusted Belphegor?

Once forgiven and you saving his relationship with his brothers for a second time, he clung to you like the most spoiled child with a sadistic streak. He delighted in monopolizing your time and keeping you close so he could nestle into you during his hour long “naps” no matter what you had to do. It was suffocating and he had never apologized for anything he had done—ever—but you lived with it. Even found comfort in the quiet that came lying near each other when you needed some time to think or not think at all.

But then, he found a new toy. One he didn’t break.

He didn’t have time for you, he didn’t make room for you. You were a pestilence that ruined everything you touched. Soft smiles and fingertips lightly brushing together beneath the dinner table vanished and now you were perfect for bouncing jokes off of. He figured himself a comedian with his dry humor.

Wanting your pillow back, you carefully ascended the attic, feeling like you were entering a lion’s den every step of the way. He was curled up with a sleeping Danielle, but his eyes opened on you as soon as you got close enough.

“Um, hi, Belphie.” You stopped where you stood and fiddled with your hands. You had to hurry before you lost his attention, but get your point out carefully so he wouldn’t feel attacked. “I just wanted to know if I could have my pillow back?”

He rolled his eyes and turned his back to you, getting more comfortable against Danielle before he would fall asleep. “I threw it away.” He said, “’Had a bad smell. Didn’t smell like Danielle.”

He curled against her neck. “Get out, I’m trying to sleep.”

You left.

Something that you never expected—who were you fucking kidding?—you didn’t expect any of this shit to happen. You just wished it hadn’t happened.

One morning, you were awakened out of a dead sleep you hadn’t known you took. You were wearing your clothes from the day before and your homework lay on the desk undone. The lights had been left on and you lay atop the covers instead of under them.

“Wha—?” You couldn’t even slur with your dry mouth. Lucifer had the task of shaking you awake. The disdainful curling of his lips not being lost to your bleary eyes.

“W-What happened?” You asked before he could turn away.

“Belphie put you to sleep before we went out last night.” He answered matter-o-factly.

Your mouth opened and you had to force sound to come out before he left, “Wh-Why? Did he use his power? Wh-Why did he put me to sleep?” Your voice sounded pathetic but you felt pathetic.

“Because we were all going out last night and we didn’t want you asking questions. Annoying questions like now. I was wise to think ahead.” A small self-satisfied grin lit his features before sharp eyes lowered to you again, looking down his nose at you.

“Now get ready for school. I will not allow you to miss a day of class no matter what. There is only so much shame you can bring me, and escape unscathed.”

You had really lost your autonomy here.

You shook your head. Lucifer wasn’t even worth remembering. It was almost as if his existence was the root of all suffering. You blew air through your teeth, feeling a calm wash over you. You pulled up the PH group chat and found your thumb moving on its own.

MC: Hi, guys. I’m sorry it took so long, but I’ll be coming to visit soon whether you like it or not! I haven’t felt this good in so long. I really miss you all.

You grinned and one single tear flowed down your cheek. They did make you so happy.

Luke: You didn’t call me, but I forgive you!

Simeon: (*≧∀≦*)

Solomon: ☜(˚▽˚)☞

Luke: MCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCC!

Luke: I’ll be waiting, the cupcakes are cooling now! We can decorate together! (❁´▽`❁)*✲ﾟ*

MC: I can’t wait to see you guys. See ya in a few!

Locking the screen you stood up and stretched your aching body. Everything hurt, but it wasn’t unpleasant. It felt more like weakness was leaving the body. You grinned, 'Oh my gosh, am I becoming some kinda pervert?' You shook your head playfully. Your dry hair swished around you and you looked into the mirror for the first time and truly saw yourself. Tapping a brittle fingernail against glass, you gazed at the combination dry/oily skin and anxiety-induced acne on the person before you. They stared back as if they were waiting for you to say what they’ve been needing to hear from you.

“We’ve gotta get you some self-love, bitch.” You smiled at the person smiling back before grabbing some toiletries and heading to the bathroom. You deserved a hot shower and a deep condition.

You wore a facial cleanser as you styled your hair over the dusty vanity you hadn’t touched since that night. You were looking better already, as if you were reborn or something. Love was overflowing from your heart and you were practically glowing. ‘Could this be Simeon’s influence?’ You smiled as you thought back to him. There was so much you two had to discuss, but firstly, you would hold onto him and never let him go.

You wore the clothes you were wearing when you had arrived in the devildom for the first time. Not the things Asmodeus had bought you. They weren’t you and never had been. You didn’t need to conform to Devildom standards and sure as fuck not his. You hadn’t been friendly to yourself in a long time, and you needed to start now. The clothes fit like a glove and as you gazed at yourself in the full-length mirror you avoided from Asmodeus’s influence, you had no idea what he was talking about. ‘The twink’s got bad taste.’ You thought as you turned around to get a look at your ass. You hadn’t been working out since you lost a gym buddy, but you could still get it.

You were doing something that would mark the end of the dream turned nightmare with the demon brothers of House of Lamentation. You packed a school bag of only the most valuable things which weren't much. You weren’t bringing anything linked to this house, even a toothbrush. You were going to have to pick something up from a store and borrow the rest from your new roomies you were going to impose on. You didn’t need to think hard about what you would bring.

A teddy bear that came in a matching pair with Luke’s. A beautiful and delicate teacup with matching spoon and saucer gifted from Barbatos that was too precious you hadn’t removed it from its box since the day you received it. A matching friendship bracelet with Diavolo. He secretly wore his beneath his sleeves every day and would playfully flash it whenever he caught your eye. It looked pretty juvenile with its colorful woven strands and bronze charms but it was yours and had both your initials in it. Lastly, was a pashmina you swore was softer than any cloud in the sky. Simeon had wrapped it around you one chilly day, stating he had brought it from the Celestial realm just for you. He made you feel so special.

Just one more thing and you could leave. Walk straight out of the front door with dignity and never look back. You dug into the underwear drawer for something you had brought from home that made you feel grounded. No matter where you were, you were never truly alone because you had your grandmother’s ring. This ring was proof that she had lived and loved you. No matter where her soul was, she always loved you and you would never stop loving her. Holding this ring in your trembling palm got you through many panic attacks, and not being able to find it amidst the underwear and socks was quickly bring up another one.

“No, no, please be there…” you whimpered when you couldn’t find it no matter how frantically you searched. You froze. Traces of yellow aftereffects lead from the drawer, so feint you would’ve missed them. That greedy motherfucker. You leaned back on your heels and sucked in a breath through your gritted teeth. Your hands gripped the edge of the drawer so hard that the wood broke and splintered in your palms. The shock brought you back, but didn’t elicit a peep from you. You looked at your palms and ripped a few splinters out with your fingers until you decided it was sufficient.

They really couldn’t leave you alone until the end, huh?

You strode to the common room with purpose. Playful chatter flowed into the hallways as you got closer and closer to the source. You normally would’ve retreated. Held your breath and ran the other way like a field mouse. Satan was in there and he had his spells where he didn’t need to touch you and Beelzebub had his hunger, and Asmodeus had his weaponized words, but that only made you angrier. Fuck that and fuck them. You strode into the room and stood where you could observe the room, looking from face to face until your eyes locked on your target.

The banter died down at your shocking presence. Danielle was the only one who visibly perked up and was already shuffling off of the couch “MC!”, evading needy hands and clambering towards you. Lucifer awoke from the shock and was rising from his seat.

“MC! I thought I told you to—"

“Mammon, have you seen my ring?”

Recognition flashed in his eyes, but he pushed it down and met you with a bored indifference and a scoff. “What ring? There's tons of rings 'round ‘ere. Ya expect me to keep up with one?” He acted as if it was such an inconvenience, leaning back in his seat and putting his feet on the ottoman and hands behind his head in mock relaxation.

You sighed. He was going to force your hand, wasn’t he? “Where is my ring?”

He was pissed that you weren’t letting this go. “I already told ya I don’t have your damn ring! Why do ya think it was me, huh?”

“Because it's always you.” You said in a monotone, staring him down like he was the biggest dumbass in the three realms.

He was up on his feet now. “How fuckin’ dare you! What does a shitty little ring matter, anyway? The band wasn’t even real gold! I didn’t even make cab fair with the thing!” His hands were up in the air in exasperation. He was in your face whining like he was the victim because he didn’t make his asking price.

“That was my grandmother’s ring and you knew that.”

“Why should I care? Yer granny's dead and what’s the point of holding on to some shitty ring? I might as well get some use outta it if it’s just gonna sit around.”

Your head tilted only slightly as an incomprehensible smile stretched across your lips. Your grandmother’s passing was still fresh in your mind while these brothers had millennia to mourn their sister. They held altars in her glory, and even a creepy little bedroom replica and you never criticized a thing. You were always the enabler, never a bad word for anyone.

Did you try to be Mother Theresa or something? The dam would break again, but it would not be your tears shed tonight.

Your eyes looked like murder and your smile foretold destruction.

“You god damned hypocrite.”

˚

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[transcendentalyouthh]

I Just Want to Taste It

"So? How'd it taste? Yummy, right?"

Ouji was uncapping the tube as he spoke, long lashes catching the light just right as he looked down, watching his own hands moving.

Tetsuji wanted to ask him how it was possible for any one person to be so beautiful. What it was like to move and breathe and exist as if you'd just stepped out of some kind of painting.

"I didn't try it," he said instead. "I don't really wear makeup."

Ouji quirked a brow at him, lifting his gaze as he passed the tip along pursed lips. Painting them with sickly sweet strawberry, a bright sheen of red-pink daring Tetsuji to look anywhere but the tempting mouth before him. He hadn't noticed it before, but the light of the hallway made it easier to see--Ouji's gloss had glitter. It was mesmerizing.

"I see," he said as he finished. Tetsuji snapped his eyes to Ouji's as the other spoke. They crinkled with another smile. "More your girlfriend's thing, then? Does she like flavored gloss, too?"

"I don't have a girlfriend. I haven't really been interested in dating."

..

Alternately: Ouji wears some lip gloss to their study group. Arafune is distracted.

read on ao3

[delusional-angel]

✩Shutterbug✩ 『Yandere!Peter Parker x Reader』

[All characters in my fics are 18+.]

    Peter tried to steady his pounding heart as you snuggled up closer to him. Your arms wrapped around his waist lazily as you were beginning to drift in and out of sleep. The blanket draped across your shoulders was dropping, allowing his fingers to graze your skin almost innocently.

You were having a Tolkien marathon at his condo and strewn across his couch—and nearly in his lap—you were totally at peace. You spent nearly every other day at Peter’s place, sleepovers were something you never batted an eyelash at because it was Peter and you were starting to realize that being near him was the happiest place you could be. Your best friend.

If only you knew what you did to him.

The sun had set hours earlier and you were nearing the middle of The Twin Towers when it dawned on you, “Damn, these movies are long.” You murmured.

Peter chuckled, “Getting sleepy?”

“No. Absolutely not.” You drawled as you fought sleep. You tried to sit up straight but now Peter’s hand was rubbing up and down your arm and you were finding little reason to get up at all. You were so sleepy you didn’t consider how out of character this was.

Peter’s breath hitched as he felt you relax against him. ‘She trusts me. Don’t be nervous, dude, there’s nothing to worry about. Ask her.’ The pounding in his heart was anticipation as he cleared his throat.

“Y/n.”

“Yes, darling?” You hummed and his resolve almost broke, the things you did to him.

“There’s something I want to a-ask y-you…” the stutter caught your attention and now you were sitting up and pulling away to better see him. ‘Pl-please, don’t do that cause if you do, I can’t think.’

“What’s the matter, Peter?” The concern was clear across your face.

“W-well, I’ve been meaning t-to for some time, but didn’t kn-know how to ask. I mean! Ned says he can’t channel his inner Naomi anymore and MJ says if I ask her again, she’ll shove my camera up my—”

“Peter. Breathe.”

Your hands were on his shoulders and like that, your mysterious power you were completely naïve to was working on him and easing his anxieties.

“Y/n, would you model for me?”

This time you froze.

Did you really have to think about it? You were nervous even though you felt you shouldn’t be. Peter was your closest friend and after all he did for you this was your chance to do something for him. You didn’t think as you said, “Of course.”

“Really? Do you mean it, Y/n? This is awesome!” He’s off the couch and on his feet. “Am I dreaming right now? Oh no, I could totally be dreaming, it’s happened before ohmygod.” This boy actually pinches himself and the way his face lights up when it actually hurts makes you snort. ‘I can’t believe this dork is my best friend I gotta protect him.’

When realization sets in, he’s pulling you off the couch and into his arms to twirl you around. “You won’t regret this, Y/n. I promise. I know what I’m doing so just trust me, okay?” Your head is spinning and tossed back as you giggle. He was always so childish but he never failed to surprise you. You didn’t think to consider what he could possibly be reassuring you for.

You both flop onto the couch breathless, you throwing your legs over his without thinking and his heart thumps from the contact. Biting his lower lip, he takes your hand and lightly brushes a thumb over it. Every instinct he has, human and otherwise, is telling him to kiss you but he knows he can’t push you.

From the moment you let him into your heart, he knew this wasn’t something to take lightly. Every action, every meaningful moment you shared with him was carefully planned in his own way. ‘There’s only one Y/n in this world. I’d never ruin it with her. Slow and steady wins the race, right?’

So many pictures of you decorate the walls of his personal office–the one in this very condo that you have no idea even exists. He has albums specifically for photos taken while you’re lounging at home, out during the day or sleeping at night. They’re damn near scrapbooks carefully labeled and lovingly arranged and annotated with his thoughts on each picture. He knows when your taste in fashion changes and can read your body language better than any seasoned profiler. He knows nearly all of your facial expressions except for a choice few that he hopes to be the only one who will ever see them.

Of course, you’ll never know his little collection ever exists.

“So…” he starts as he focuses on your hand shyly, “Wanna start tomorrow? Say…at Queen’s Coffee? You bring yourself and I’ll bring my camera?”

You smile and rest your head on his shoulder. “I suppose I could.”

“And Y/n…”

“Hmm?”

“Is it okay if I considered tomorrow a date?”

You didn’t even think about it. Had you always wanted something like this with him? Was it always building up to this? There were pleasant butterflies in your stomach that told you so. 

Now, it was your turn to be shy as you buried your face in his sleeve. 

“I’d be insulted if you didn’t.”

The next day you’re dressed cute & cozy and sitting across from Peter, your drinks already served. He’s been fiddling with his camera nervously for several minutes which is bs cause you know he knows how to use the thing.

“Pe~ter~” You call and the camera almost slips from his fingers. “Careful!” You call. He sits the camera on the table and sighs with his hands fisted on his jeans. You reach forward across the table, “Look, I’m a little nervous too, but I trust you.” He looks into your eyes for the first time since you both arrived. “You do?” “There’s no reason why I shouldn’t.” Oh, honey. If only you knew.

His hand finds its way over yours as you enjoy the moment. It fits perfectly, but then, he has an epiphany. Hoisting his camera up in the other hand, he takes the shot of you and your hands joined on the table. “I’ve always wanted a shot like this!”

That kicks off the first of many dates. The next one is at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. He’s as geeky as ever as he instructs you to just act natural and admire the art. You’re looking up into the eyes of a mural when you hear his voice, “The art admiring the art.” before a click.

The dates continue but with gifts. “I know this color would look amazing on you.” “I saw these jeans and then I really wanted to see you wearing them–not in a perverted way, though!” “I saw this necklace and thought of you.”

He’s always bringing something new to “accentuate your natural beauty” and they coordinate well with your outfits.

Soon, your photoshoots are taking place in more private settings. Late nights strolls where only the stars can guide you, high vantage points you have no idea how he found and he wants you to see the view. In the dark you feel anything can happen and you don’t know if that feeling in your chest is hesitation or anticipation. 

The shoots start drawing closer to home–Peter’s. “I just love seeing you comfortable.” “We always have the most fun alone like this.”

Comfy clothes you like soon include Peter’s own in your outfits. Basketball shorts, tees, hoodies and sweatpants. You start wearing more of his than your own and the sneaky thought that maybe he liked seeing you in his clothes doesn’t persist or set off any alarm bells. 

Soon, he starts making requests. “I g-got you these yoga pants. Th-they’re your favorite color and were on sale!” He says with his eyes averted and a bright blush. 

And then things take a turn.

   You hold the peach colored nightie between trembling hands. The department store bag lays in the bathroom sink forgotten as you finger the delicate lace chest. This is a gift unlike the others, more intimate than anything you’ve ever received and for some reason this feels like it changes everything.

Your face is on fire, and you’re momentarily struck dumb. What does this mean and what happens depending on what you choose? You lean against the closed bathroom door and exhale. You can feel a presence from the other side and Peter’s voice clear with worry calls from the other side to you. “Are y-you okay, Y/n?” His voice cracks at your name.

On the other side, it feels like everything he’s built up is crashing down all around him. You got so comfortable and he got so arrogant, he let himself believe he had a chance and now everything was positively shattered. “I-I’m sorry! I know it’s too much, I wasn’t thinking–I’m so sorry. Please, you don’t have to do anything that would make you uncomfortable. I’m so sorry.”

You swallow dryly as you clear your thoughts. This was only as dirty as you thought it was. Photography was Peter’s passion and you were modeling. No one else was around. It was just you and him. The safest place in the world.

When you don’t answer, Peter panics. The knob starts jiggling erratically and the door shudders under his strength. “Please, Y/n. Answer me.” So many thoughts of how he’s fucked up is racing through his mind at a speed he just can’t handle. ‘It’s all over. I ruined it. Everything’s over. She’ll hate me forever and I’ll die.’ Ice chills his veins at the next thought, ‘How do I fix this? How do I take it all back?’

He nearly falls through the door, but pulls back when the door opens just a crack. His breath hitches. You peek through shyly, and Peter’s jaw drops. “Just don’t laugh, okay?” How could he be so lucky?

“I would never laugh at you!” He never had and never would for as long as he lived.

The door slowly opened to reveal you in the nightie and nothing else. The soft material clung to your waist and the hips he loved so much. Thighs bare and basically begging for him to part them and do what he’s imagined nearly every night before falling asleep. It took every bit of strength he had to brace himself at the door and not throw himself at you. God, he hoped you didn’t notice what was going on in his jeans. ‘Just keep your eyes up here, okay Y/n?’

You stepped through and asked him where he wanted you and when he answered, “Anywhere’s fine.” he meant that in every possible way.

You accepting that gift kick started an avalanche. Peter loved photos of you lounging around his condo doing the most monotonous things. Just capturing you in your natural essence unhindered and not hanging upside down from your balcony had him over the moon. 

So, it was only natural that he began to grow more comfortable with his requests.

You were wearing a pair of cute, powder pink panties and his white t-shirt. Sitting on his couch, you had your legs pulled up and together and knees beneath your chin, angled away so the camera couldn’t see what you had been doing well at hiding since the shoots had gotten more risque.

He noticed how you carefully angled your lower half, never truly giving him his prize. Always such a tease, making him want it so much more than he though he could.

“Why don’t you turn and face me more, Y/n? I feel like you’re trying to hide from me or something.” His smile was good-natured and sweet enough to plague you with a strange sense of guilt. Unknowingly, he was making you feel guilty for growing a little suspicious of your friend and his intentions.

“See, isn’t that better?” He cooed as you dropped your legs over the edge of the couch and faced him entirely.

“Could you look at me?” you did.

“Could you lift up your shirt a little? Perfect!”

“And could you spread your legs just a tiny bit.”

Before you followed his instructions, instinct kicked in and your eyes dropped down to his crotch and the tent in his dark jeans. Even you could tell his length was straining from within and a shocked glance up into his eyes rattled you to the core.

“P-Peter.” What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck. Had is eyes always been so desperate? Had he always looked to you with such longing? You wracked your mind to remember, to recall little moments that felt off, but you had brushed away. 

The way he spoke sent chills down your spine, his voice heady with lust for you. “Y-Y/n, just a little more, please.” He rocked his hips gently, slowly edging for friction. A pink tongue darted out to trace parched lips. 

“I-I just need a little more of you.”

What does this mean? What’s happening to your friend?

You pulled the shirt down to cover the panties and wrapped your arms around your legs that now felt so cold from the exposure.

“Why do you need pictures like this, Peter? What’s going on? Talk to me.”

A sad grin graced his lips as he lowered the camera to meet your eyes. Devastating brown irises framed with thick lashes gave you unyielding attention that you had tried to ignore for so long. How long had you been fooling yourself for? You had known all along how much he had been hurting for you.

“Because these pictures can keep me sated for now.”

“’For now’? Keep you sated why? What’s going to happen?” So, much had been building up for so long and unfortunately this wasn’t event the tip of the iceberg.

God, were your teeth chattering? Fight or flight had left the fucking building and left you stranded where you sat feeling smaller than your friend and so vulnerable as he stood over you.

Carefully, he kneeled before you and slowly, very slowly, reached out to caress your knee.

“These pictures will have to be enough, Y/n. Until you’re ready. Until I can have the real thing, this is my way of keeping you with me forever.”

[delusional-angel]

Sweet Dreams are Made of This ✧a lewd Peter Parker imagine✧

       Peter’s entire body shuddered when the tip of his cock sheathed itself inside of you. The warmth was incomparable. Unlike anything! The way he felt, being connected to you this way was a religious experience and he wasn’t even inside yet.

“Y/n. Y/n. Y/n.” He moaned your name to himself like a prayer as he steadily rocked his hips. Trying so hard to burn this memory into his brain. He never wanted to forget. Let this be the last memory that flashes through his mind when he dies, please.

   The shallow mewls that fell from your lips wracked him with more shivers and he leaned forward to press his sweat slick forehead to your own, chocolate curls brushing your brow.

“Y/n look at me. Look at me, baby.” Your eyes previously squeezed shut opened to blink up at him. So close, everything was so close, but there was no where else you wanted to be.

“A-are—” a moan cut him off. He’s trying so hard to hold back. So hard to keep his hips still and from thrusting into you down to the hilt until the only thing that matters to you is him. Every instinct is screaming for him to ravage you now until neither of you can move or pull yourselves apart, but this has to be perfect.

This is your moment together.

“Are you ready?” For me. For This. For what we’re going to do, something I’ll never let you turn back from.

A trembling hand moves to cup your cheek, warm against his calloused palm. The other hand sneaks low to caress your throbbing sex and the sharp buck you involuntarily give has his eyes almost rolling to the back of his skull.

Your hand cups his, you’re shivering beneath him and so ready he can almost taste it.

Your other hand brushes his aside to gently touch the point where you two connect. His length flushes, he’s so aware of everything. He doesn’t want to miss a thing. “Please…” Breathy and weak for him, but the same spark he loves ignites in your eyes.

 “Hurry, please.” Another gasp, “I want you, Peter.”

That’s all he needs before he takes your hands in his, clasping tightly, bracing you when one deep thrust shatters any boundary between friends and soulmates that may have been between you.

You cry out, walls fluttering around his cock and he only allows himself to enjoy it for a second before he’s clumsily working a steady pace. So, dedicated to making you climax beneath him.

“This is perfect, Y/n. You’re perfect.” A thrust that makes your vision burn white. “Perfect for me.”

“Don’t we fit perfectly together?” He’s bucking erratically, driving into you so deep you think you might break. “I knew it was meant to be. I knew it would feel good, but this is…It feels like I’ve lived my entire life to share this with you.”

An expert roll of his hips has your toes curling, raising you higher and higher to the peak.

Chest to chest, as close as two people could be, but still not as close as he wanted yet this would have to do.

“How does it feel, Y/n? Me making love to you? I love you so much. I want you to know. Can you feel it? All of my love. It’s spilling over.”

He doesn’t take a moment to breathe, everything colliding in his mind and thoughts barely coherent, but he needs you to know. Even just a fraction.

Moans blend with hiccups as water droplets splash onto your cheeks. He’s crying. He doesn’t know when he started, but his love truly is spilling over. He’s had to contain it for so long and now he can finally show you.

“P-Peter?” A sharp gasp when he hits the perfect spot inside you that has you melting around him, and you reach up and pull him to your embrace. Hips still rocking into you with reverie.

Fingers comb his matted locks and your blown pupils meet his teary gaze.

“I love you, Peter.”

“Y-You r-really—” You feel his cock throb inside so clearly that you know you’re close.

“I love you. Only you.”

“I love y-you, Y/n. All of this—everything that I do is all for you…”

God, you’re clenching around him deliciously, but he can’t yet. You have to take the fall first and he’ll follow after.

“Then kiss me.”

Lips touch surprisingly gentle like the first time. One hand splays over your hip to pull you as close as close can be, he’s going to make you see stars. The other returns to stimulate your clit.

Every gasp and moan he swallows greedily as if this is truly what he lives for.

When you cum he follows soon after.

 Peter’s eyes open to see his dark ceiling. Sweat and a sticky fluid coat his chest and his legs are tingled in the thin bed sheets. His body trembles from aftershocks of pleasure, phantom touches from you keeping him blissed, but he knows this pleasure is nothing compared to what it must be like with you.

What time was it now? Probably too late to call while he rubs another one out. What were you doing? Was it too much to hope you were dreaming of him?

He reached for the Kleenex to wipe off while the other hand still clutched your panties like a talisman.

They had been your favorite pair once but had disappeared. Peter personally considered them a lucky pair because you wore them the first time you had met.

“I’m sure nothing beats the real thing...Wait, for me, Y/n.”

[delusional-angel]

Hey! Can I request a Detroit becomes human yandere connor and/or Daniel? It can be a drabble or headcanons, love your blog!

(❁´ω`❁) Thank you so much~! I wanted to write Daniel too, but it would’ve been waaaaaaaaaaaaaaay longer to establish how you meet Daniel etc, and I’m not good at headcanons yet, huhu. I really hope you like it!

You had stepped in the break room the moment it happened. Clutching two cups of iced coffee kept you rooted to the spot as a ceramic mug sailed through the air and would’ve made contact with Connor’s temple if not for his reflexes. 

“Gimme a coffee, tin can, and be quick about it.” Gavin’s grin was flippant with a hint of sinister as he turned back to his conversation. The other two detectives he had been speaking with made no move to correct him as they smiled or chuckled at the odd one out before lapsing back into casually shooting the shit. Connor stared at Gavin’s back a moment longer before idly examining the cup. 

I think the fuck not.

You suddenly remembered where you were and what you were supposed to be doing. You came forward in a quick stride before dumping both cups of coffee on top of the bastard’s head, stepping back only slightly to avoid getting any syrup on your shoes. 

Gavin wrenched in his seat and nearly fell from it. The ice slipping beneath his hoodie and trailing deeper down that he almost couldn’t suppress a shrill yelp with a more masculine growl. Gavin was up in your face in a hot second but you didn’t back down as coffee swished from him onto you. “You fucking bitch!” His eyes were dark and glazed over with pure rage and for a moment you wondered if he was the type to put his hands on anyone when angry. You were willing to find out for yourself.

Nervous hands clasped Gavin’s wrists from behind, his fake friends at least being smart enough to know trouble when they saw it. But more surprisingly? Connor was in front of you in a split second, back straight and chin high proudly ready to protect you. The sight of him warmed your heart despite you knowing you could handle yourself. You squeezed the back of his jacket affectionately.

“C’mon, Reed. Let’s go.” One of them halfheartedly tugged on his sleeve, not wanting to direct his line of fire to them. “Not yet. Now, the little bitch got her own little bitch, huh? You think this is over?” He wrenched free and was trying to leer at you from around Connor, but Connor’s arms were extended backward to shield you as he maneuvered himself so that he was always facing Gavin.

You leaned over Connor’s arm cheekily, “Well, isn’t it?” 

Something guttural was taking shape in his throat that he couldn’t articulate. Gavin was beyond furious, the type of anger that even harassing random passerby couldn’t help. He wanted to put his foot into someone’s skull and then wondered if Connor’s head would give way like a pumpkin or not. Why did you have to see him like this? Why were you protecting Robo-cop’s ass anyway, and worst of all, why was he protecting you? There was so much he wanted to do in this break room, but he knew that he looked like the villain here so there was no other way but to retreat. 

He spared one last glare before he left the room and the silence was more unnerving than if he was red faced and hissing. It was just you and Connor alone now and you felt pretty smug about your victory. Who knew it would be Connor to bring you back down into reality. He stepped away and faced you and suddenly you were in the position of being scolded.

“You shouldn’t have done that, Agent L/n.”

You weren’t amused, “I should’ve done it earlier. I hate how he treats you and he needs to stop before I–”

“Violence is prohibited in the work place–”

“Then I’ll hurt him with words.”

“You’re dancing around reason, Agent.”

“Yes, tap dancing even.” You grinned and you’re sure if Connor had need for breath he would’ve sighed.

“I really hate the way he treats you, Connor.” You looked up at him solemnly and now he could feel the same danger when he stood to protect you. Even then, he was toeing the line of deviation. He could feel himself pulling from something far larger than himself and going to the unknown. It was terrifying, it could get him scrapped, but for you? He’d do it over and over again. 

“You shouldn’t do that, Agent L/n.” His voice was a bit more warm, he was talking to you like he was supposed to now. Like you were friends. “I’m no one.”

You could’ve flung yourself at Connor and choked him by the collar. You’re never usually this violent, but you were incredibly protective of him since you both joined DPD around the same time. 

“You know that talk is blasphemous, Connor.”

“But it’s the truth, Agent L/n. I’m not worth sticking your neck out for.”

You stepped forward and playfully poked his check to enunciate each word. “You are somebody and you matter so much to me. Gavin is a bully. He’s someone that doesn’t realize that being an ass gets a whole bunch of laughs at him and not with him.” You looked up into his brown eyes and you were suddenly feeling shy, “I know it’s hard, but please don’t ever feel you’re not worth it, okay? Just come to me when you start getting doubts.”

The smile came easily and not of programming. His eyes were so bright as he smiled down at you and suddenly he felt like he should be doing something with his hands, like holding you. He protected you and that was not supposed to happen. He was supposed to treat all indiscriminately unless it was for the success of a case, but he protected you as if he was yours. His LED flickered just once as he entertained the thought. Maybe I had always been hers.

Now, like he was soothing a petulant child with a hint of mischief he chided, “I’ll do just that, Agent L/n.”

“And stop calling me ‘Agent’! I told you to call me Y/n.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You gripped his jacket, “I’m not leaving until you say it.”

Would it be so bad if you stayed? He mused

“Fine, I will, Y/n.” 

“Much better!” Dusting off Connor’s shoulders, you turned to go to the custodial closet. You didn’t want to leave this mess for someone else.