MEMORIES OF YOU

MEMORIES OF YOU

in a timeline where your presence is lacking, they do everything to keep you beside them.

a/n; i really want to know what the brothers in our current timeline are doing. how are they holding up? sorry for another long post, i felt insane (m;_ _)m. a few of them got a bit out of hand compared to others.

Lucifer plays your voicemails on repeat.

there are times when the workload gets a little bit too much now. lucifer hadn't ever noticed how much he had relied on your presence to soothe him after a stressful day; the shoulder massages and brief kisses, the comforting words, the mere company of you beside him had begun to feel like second nature.

unfortunately, you're no longer here to provide that for him, and neither is he there with you to offer a guiding hand in whatever it is you might be going through right now. the thought that you could be in danger sends a dull ache to his head, and the thought that it could be him being the one harming you is enough for him to put down his pen. no more work will be getting done today.

in moments like these—and he hates to admit they've been frequent—lucifer reaches for his d.d.d. the device feels heavy in his hand, and he has to stop himself from trying to once again call you. instead, he goes for the next closest thing.

"lucifer!" your voice is bright and cheery, it rings out clearly enough that he almost believes you've teleported right next to him. the tension of his shoulders ease as you continue, "i'm really sorry for leaving early today, but i did make breakfast before i left!"

lucifer leans his back against his chair, chuckling at the flustered sound of your delivery. it sounds as if you were running while recording this.

"there should be enough for everyone plus seconds and uh..." he can hear the quiet mumbling of your counting. "tenths for beel! again, i'm really sorry for leaving without all of us getting to eat together. i accidentally left an unfinished project back in the classroom and—oh! there's RAD! i'll see you in a bit, lucifer. tell everyone i said good morning!"

the voice message ends with a click, and he feels like the weight of the entire world is once again stacked upon his shoulders. as it always does.

with anchored fingers, he goes to tap the next voicemail when a knock on his door stops that.

"i'm comin' in," the voice from the other side warns before opening the door. mammon steps inside with a single cup balanced on his hand and places it on lucifer's desk, sparing a glance at the papers strewn across its surface. "still working?"

"it's never really done," lucifer responds, taking a sip from the cup. his eyebrow raises at the flavor. "is this barbatos' tea?"

"not really." mammon reaches out to sort the files into a neater pile. "i asked him to teach me in exchange for helpin' with castle cleanup."

it's the second time today lucifer's shoulders relax. "thank you, mammon."

Mammon fills his room with trinkets.

it's hard to keep mammon from spending all his grimm without you there to stop him anymore. for a while, the habit had dampened with your absence, and his brothers had wondered if he would drop it all together until you were back. that thought lasted all but two weeks.

when he had started back up again it was his usual treks—gambling at the casino, buying luxury items he had no real need for, spending it on bets he was sure to lose—and then they shifted.

there's a pile of boxes and paper bags settled carefully inside the seats of his car—the safest area of his room. they range from big to small, all designed and painted with different colors and patterns. a few of the logos and brands repeat, and asmo is the first to take notice that they're all from the stores that you like to visit.

it's somewhere near high noon when mammon leaves the house of lamentation and late evening when he comes back home.

he lets out a silent thanks that his brothers aren't around right now. or maybe they've gotten used to his schedule for the past couple of days and have decided to give him the privacy he needs. whatever the case may be, he's grateful there's no one at the entrance to chide him again.

kicking the door closed with his foot, mammon does his best to not let the multiple shopping bags hanging on for dear life in his hands slip.

it's almost like clockwork, the way his feet leads him to your room first, as they always do. he spares only a moment to take a look around. many of the things he's bought have been tucked securely in his room, but there are times, like today, where he just wants to show them off.

"Didja know Beel keeps comin' in here to eat his snacks lately? I bought a candle to clear out the air." true to his word he pulls out a candle in an intricately designed glass jar, scented in your favorite fragrance.

though it doesn't stop there, and soon your entire table is filled to the brim with different items.

mammon takes a look at everything he's bought once before pulling out a lighter and flicks it on. a mild, familiar scent fills the air, and he hates to admit it's the most calm he's felt in weeks.

Leviathan can't stop updating you.

if there's one thing that hasn't changed, it's the frequency of your texts with levi—or more accurately, levi's texts with your d.d.d. even if it's for the most mundane thing, he doesn't hesitate to whip out the mobile device and let his fingers fly across the keypad.

no one tells him to put his phone down anymore during their meals together, and even the pit pat of the letters being pressed feels more like comforting ambient noise now. the new normal in lull of conversation topics.

sometimes, there's nothing for him to talk about. times where he doesn't leave his room, where he isn't playing a game, or watching a new anime, or reading the latest manga volume release despite the media being right at his fingertips. the house of lamentation feels like it becomes empty during those days, but he doesn't want to tell you that.

levi finds that his bathtub becomes more comforting as every day passes by. the small, slightly confined space that hugs at him from both sides feels reassuringly warm with the blankets and pillows he's stuffed in there.

still, even as he shifts into a more relaxing position, nothing beats the joy he feels tapping away at his d.d.d.

he hasn't left his room for the past five days for anything other than the usual family meals, and even the games that usually pull him in no longer grab his attention. the only thing that does is the device settled within his hands, the dim glow it admits being the only thing he can focus on.

[ have you eaten yet? if not you better get to it, beel's been clearing out the fridge so fast lately i don't even bother going to the kitchen anymore. it's straight to the store for me LOL. ]

[ there's a new anime that's releasing soon. it's based off a manga about two twins that fall from the sky and end up saving the nation that raises them. i hear it's a real tear-jerker! i'll wait until you get back though so we can watch it together. ]

eventually, even levi runs out of things to talk about, and so he reluctantly marks the end of the the conversation with a goodbye.

[ talk to you soon, i'm going to pass out. sleep well when you do! ]

he does his best to ignore the fact that the messages aren't sending.

Satan sees your name in every word.

in the beginning, satan goes through every tome within every library the devildom has to offer. there must be a way to get you back from where you've disappeared to. and while he trusts solomon to keep you safe, he wants nothing more than to be there to guarantee that safety, or better yet—not have you disappear at all.

still, after turning every archive upside-down and over, satan resigns that there's nothing more he can do but to trust the sorcerer. but he can't; the thoughts of his years right after the celestial war ended haunt him and he fears that if anyone was to jeopardize your safety the most, it would be him.

and so he throws himself into his pastime. yet even then, his eyes can only skim the pages, the words nary processing in his mind. how could they, when every term, every phrase reminds him of you?

satan's hope of losing himself within the world of a story doesn't go as planned. it hasn't been going as planned for the past couple weeks.

the spine of a book cracks open, and the coffee-stained colored pages are flipped. his finger slides over the finely inked words, and then pause just minutes in when he realizes he hasn't retained a single thing he read.

rinse and repeat, the same old pattern.

frustrated, he snaps the cover closed, the force of his action loud enough to be heard by anyone who would pass by his door.

the protagonist of the book he had picked up was described as kind and forgiving. they would brighten up every room they entered and had as much fear in their body as they had caution—which was little to none. they face many trials to bring happiness to those they love all without a care for their own well-being. satan sighs, curling in on himself from his seated position.

a strained laugh nearly leaves his throat, but he holds back. of course he would gravitate towards this book with a description like that.

with a heavy heart it tucks it back ontop of the pile of other unfinished tomes—the height of it becoming increasingly worrying—and hopes that the ending is a happy one.

Asmodeus can't stop talking about you.

without your presence, asmo delves himself deep into his social circles. it takes his mind off of how concerned he is about your well-being; he doesn't need to keep himself awake thinking on how much he misses you or how you might be missing him and the rest of his brothers.

well, at least he thinks he's taking his mind off of things. it's hard for anyone to put a word in once asmo starts opening his mouth, especially when the only thing that leaves from his parted lips every other sentence is your name.

if it wasn't evident in his conversations then it's evident in the way his shampoo has been swapped out for a fragrance you had always been more privy to, or the way his style has slightly shifted towards what style you like to wear. he picks up your habits like it's his own even if he doesn't notice it.

"oh, you'll never believe what they did next!" asmo laughs, his sing-song voice ringing above even the loud blasting of music from the party speakers.

one of the demons closest to him leans in closer, a sparkle in her eyes as she continues listening to his story. a story that he's been telling for the past two hours since they sat down. "what happens next?" she pries, genuinely curious.

the stories continue on for the rest of the night, until the music dies down and the crowd thins out. the female demon is still by asmo's side, a yawn leaves her lips and he mimics the notion.

asmo blinks, eyes trailing to the watch she wears loosely around her wrist. "oh! i didn't realize it was so late, sorry to keep you here for so long."

"not at all!" she smiles, waving her hand. "thank you for telling me such interesting stories! it's the most fun i've had this week. it's obvious you must care for this person a lot."

it's only when she says that does asmo realize you were the only topic of his conversation this entire night. a smile creeps to his lips before he can help it. it's the first time in a long while that he's thought of you without fearing about how you might be doing.

because it's you. and you're always getting out of every situation the world throws you in.

Beelzebub gravitates towards the food you eat.

alongside belphie, beel—like everyone else—makes regular visits to your room. it becomes his primary hangout spot now outside of his own shared bedroom and so the snack stash that you usually keep in a drawer under your desk has recently expanded.

it practically bursts at some points from how much he tries to stuff in there on some days, but it's always empty again by the end of the week. sometimes he finds items that he didn't buy settled on the top of the rest snacks, though they always seem to be foods that you enjoyed nibbling on.

he misses the food that you used to cook for everyone at the house of lamentation, and no matter how good simeon's cooking might be, it just isn't the same. still, he does his best to replicate it sometimes. maybe by the time you get back he can surprise you with a home-cooked meal... if he doesn't eat it first.

it's usually mammon or asmo that walks through the doors with half a dozen bags grasped in white knuckled grips, not beel, but here he is. in contrast to his older brothers, though, beels bags aren't filled with clothing or make-up, but food.

"are you sure you don't need help with that?" belphie asks, a little more than concerned at how even with how wide the doors are to the house of lamentation he was barely able to fit through the opening.

"it's fine," beel shakes his head. "this is nothing."

they make their trek to the kitchen with little difficulty. as beel said, those bags really did feel like they weighed nothing. "what do you think we should try making?"

"hmm," beel looks over their ingredients. they hadn't really thought that far ahead. whatever was on sale, they bought. "how about shadow pork ragu pasta?"

thankfully, with belphie's ability to keep himself conscious, he helps beel from continuously 'taste testing' their creation. it goes well until they're half-way through and the door opens, a head of blonde hair popping inside.

"i thought i smelled something here, what are you two doing? it's not your turn tonight for dinner duty." one look at the dish they're making though and satan gives a nod of understanding. it's the dish you had made for belphegor some time ago. "need some help?"

satan's help is very much needed as belphie was on his last winks and that meant there would be no one to keep beel in check either. by the time the pasta was finished there's five-too-many more servings than intended on the counter and four more demons surrounding it.

seems like they won't be having dinner in the dining hall today.

Belphegor takes your room as his own.

there's no other room in the house of lamentation that's as comforting as yours—that's simply a unanimous fact. and with the absence of your presence now, it's also the only place belphie can go to feel the closest to you.

he spends more time in your room now than he does in his shared room with beel and the attic combined. there are days where mammon sneaks inside during the night only to already find the twins loitering around, laying on your bed or sitting at the table having a snack (or at least, beel's definition of a snack).

while belphie admits he likes the time he spends in your room alone, he feels more at peace when his brothers decide to join as well, uninvited or not. it makes the days feel like they've gone back to normalcy, when you're still here and they can just relax in each other's company.

"mammon stop clinging to me, dammit! you're the one who wanted to watch a horror movie!" levi pulls away from his older brother as much as possible, holding a container of popcorn above his head to prevent it from spilling all over the floor and dirtying your carpet.

satan's groans are louder than any of their yelling, "quiet down! i can't focus on what the characters are saying! and beel your chewing too loud!"

"sorry," comes the prompt reply followed by even more chewing.

asmo leans his back on the bed frame, head tilting to the side in order to get a better view of belphie's face under the dim light of the monitor. "having fun?"

"what do you think?" he groans, pushing his head further into your pillow.

and while belphie can't see the expression asmo makes, he has a good prediction that he's grinning. "i think you're having fun. after all, you haven't kicked any of us out yet."

"it's not my room," he replies.

"but you know everyone would gladly leave if it meant you felt more comfortable."

the youngest brother turns his back. "you guys are too loud, i'm going to sleep."

"yes, yes, sleep well, belphie," asmo quips. "have nice dreams."

and he does.

even over the loud noises of his brothers yelling and the muffled sounds coming from the speakers of the tv, belphie finds that he hasn't fallen into a sleep this deep since you disappeared. and while morning comes eventually, he treasures the dream with you in it for as long as he can.

@bizarrebankai asked:

husband!Lucifer would kiss your ring on your hand a lot and he'd kiss along your knuckles too 😔 like he'd just be sitting next to you or something and he'd look over at you on your phone and he'd see that shiny diamond flash and he'd grab your hand and kiss the finger and then your knuckles <3 and he'd just say stuff like, "My darling wife..." "The ring still looks so good on you..." raaudjffhskdbs

[ smutty follow-up because we can't be tamed ]

okay but like can we pleeeeease talk about sappy old man Luci for a sec?

➤ thinking about: Luci putting a ring on it

lucifer x gn!reader | sfw | tipsy wedding night fluff

he wants everything to be perfect for you, and your ring is no exception. he's not going to surprise you with a ring because he wants you to love the ring he slips onto your finger. he wants you to love it so much that you never want to take it off again. the devildom has master jewelcrafters he plans to consult later, but first he takes you to the human world so you can show him the styles you like or don't like. it's fascinating listening to you talk through your preferences. the things you wear are a reflection of you. in all the three realms, he's one of the lucky few that gets to understand why you like the things you do.

when he finally slips the ring onto your finger on your wedding day, you don't look shocked. you're not supposed to, because you designed it together. there are a few surprises he'll tell you about later, like the minor warding spells imbued into the precious stones, or the engraving etched into the inside of the band. the look on your face when you hold up your hand and admire the ring on your finger is nothing less than happy, loving contentment. he'll never forget this perfect moment.

after the wedding reception and far too much demonus, two of his brothers help you take him back to the house of lamentation. you changed out of your wedding attire before the party, but lucifer's still wearing his tux—or most of it, anyway. you're not sure where his bow tie is, and the buttons of his shirt collar are undone. his black-grey bangs are a little damp with sweat from feasting and drinking and dancing the night away together.

you shoo the others away and shake your head at your silly husband who sits on the edge of the bed and stares at you with the biggest grin on his face.

we're married.

yes we are.

how did I get so lucky?

his voice is so syrupy-sweet and you assume it's from the booze, but his bright ruby eyes shine with adoration like you're the most perfect, gorgeous thing he's ever seen.

you kneel at his feet to hide your own bashfulness and you slip the dress shoes off his feet. you pat his knee gently to let him know you're done, but he takes your hand and brings it to his mouth. he kisses your fingers, his half-lidded eyes lingering on the twinkling band of gems and metal around your finger.

mine, he murmurs happily, bringing your hand to his cheek and nuzzling into your palm with a sigh. his hand covers yours, and your own ring on his finger glints in the candlelight of his room.

yours.

cute old man in your area

other ver

lmaooo I like to think that at first, Kaiba Corp staff really did not believe Kaiba's s/o was really involved with him and that she is just another delusional fan trying to bypass security...until the big man himself comes down-

“I’m just trying to drop off his glasses.”

“Mr. Kaiba doesn’t wear glasses.”

You shrug. “I don’t know what to tell you. He absolutely does and these are them.”

The guard frowns at you. He doesn't say a word.

You hold out the glasses. "Look. I know he's busy, but can you just give these to his assistant or something? He's going to get a headache without them."

"We don't accept packages for Mr. Kaiba." He picks up the phone on his desk. "And I'm going to call security to escort you out of the building."

Your phone buzzes in your pocket, distracting you from your current frustration. You pull it out to see a text from Seto. I left my glasses at your place.

"I know," you say out loud, talking to yourself as you type. "In your lobby... they won't take them..." Then you hit send.

"Ma'am." A burly man wearing a bulletproof vest steps up in front of you. "If you don't leave, I'm going to have to use force."

He's overkill for this situation. "Do fangirls come in with guns normally?" You know they all think you're crazy, but the SWAT team doesn't seem necessary.

The man doesn't respond as he grabs your arm. He begins to pull you toward the front doors.

Your phone starts buzzing again. This time the screen shows a video call from Seto Kaiba. You hit accept.

He's sitting in his office. You can see his windows have been shaded to reduce the light in his office. "What do you mean they won't take them?"

You flip the phone toward the security guard so he can see his boss on the screen. "Ask him."

The man straightens up, releasing his grip on your arm. His scowl disappears. "Mr. Kaiba. Sir. The front desk told me we had a disturbance. I'm just following their orders."

"Useless," Kaiba mutters, just loud enough to be heard. "You have new orders. Escort her straight up to my office." You hear the noise that indicates the call is over.

The guard doesn't notice. "Yes, sir, right away." Then he holds out his hand, pointing toward the elevators. "After you, miss."

You flounce past the front desk, smirking at the man sitting behind it as you go by. Once you're at the elevators, the security guard keeps anyone from entering the next elevator to open. He holds it open for you and then joins you inside, glaring at anyone who might think about joining the two of you. He holds his card up to the reader and presses the button for the top floor.

Then he presses another button. It has a lock on it which doesn't give you too much of an idea, but the elevator doesn't stop until it reaches the top floor. At the top, he holds the door open and lets you exit before him.

He tells Kaiba's assistant that he has a VIP guest for Mr. Kaiba. The assistant just nods at you, having seen you in the evenings, and gestures for you to go in. The security guard doesn't wait and hurries back to the elevators.

You push the door open, letting yourself into his office. "I didn't realize bringing these to you would be such a hassle." You put the glasses down on his desk.

"They couldn't find you on the visitor list?"

"They didn't check. I didn't think to ask since I was just trying to drop off a pair of glasses." You checked the time. "I'm running super late for work now."

"Important people never run late."

You smile, knowing he's only partially serious about that statement. "Well, I'm not doing this again."

"My reception staff will be better trained next time."

You wave off his comment. "It's a hassle. Just keep a spare pair at my place."

He raises an eyebrow and smirks. "Are you telling me to buy a pair just to have them at your place?"

"You're telling me you don't have a spare pair of glasses somewhere?"

"Why don't you just move in with me? Then we don't need to worry about spares of anything."

You frown. This conversation is nothing new, and Seto has taken advantage of every opportunity to ask since about five dates in when you made it clear that marriage at three months of dating was insane. "Kaiba Mansion is too far away from my job. That commute would suck. I don't even know how you do it." To be fair, he spent more time at your place now and didn't do that commute much.

"Well your place is far too small," he says as if you've asked him to move in with you. Which you won't. He's already taking up far too much space in your closet. His jackets have turned into an invasive species, crowding out your work clothes. "I suppose I could buy a place in the city..."

And talk of new housing is your cue to leave. "Now I really will be in trouble at work. I'll see you later."

Later that day, when he sends you a text with a link to a multi-million dollar townhouse, you know this is your own fault. You've encouraged a man who needs no encouragement. You text him back, letting him know that girlfriends of less than a year generally don't weigh in on property purchases.

making a house a home

inspired by this post *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

pairing: hawks x gn!reader

wc: 1.3k

There’s a loneliness that clings to every surface of Keigo’s apartment. It lingers in the slight dip on one side of the couch and not the other. It stakes its claim in the one chair at his dining table that’s always pulled out while the others remain unoccupied. His bed is much too big, too; cold and empty, and like so many other spots in his home, untouched on one side.

His walls are bare, save for the odd photo here and there; one frame in his bedroom, a few in the hallway, one or two on the wall in the living room. It’s a feeble attempt to prove to himself that there are people in his life, though when he racks his brain, Keigo struggles to conjure the names of anyone he considers a true friend, anyone he considers family. At the end of the day, the pictures scattered about are just that — pictures. His apartment is still empty; his heart still yearns.

Every night, with exhaustion weighing him down and a soreness in his joints, Keigo comes home to near deafening silence, to dark rooms and cold spaces. And every night, despite the ache in his ribs, he calls out a chipper, “Honey, I’m home!” A call he knows will go unanswered, like the final, resolute trill of a species on the verge of extinction.

Everything changes when he meets you.

Keep reading

Morning Reflections

entry for @property-of-diavolo's Fuck//Love Roulette event!

I rolled: Love, The Morning After, and Lucifer as my (very much) willing participant. hehe. Enjoy!

Lucifer x gn!MC

Divider by firefly-graphics

Lucifer sighed as he began to stir awake. He stretched his arm to rest the back of his hand on his forehead. He took notice of how light he felt, his bed warm and a feeling of peace that made his heart flutter. He hasn’t felt this way in quite some time, and he desperately wanted to savor it. Just a few more moments… I don't want this feeling to end. He began to feel a slight movement next to him, and he lazily opened one eye. Slowly he turned his head to see MC sound asleep, tucked into the crook of his arm.

Lucifer smiled softly as reached over to run his fingers through their hair. It was soft, and his strong sense of smell could pick up the sweet aroma of their shampoo and the soap they used on their skin. Lucifer closed his eyes as he breathed the pleasant scent in. He could seriously get drunk off of it much like the Demonus he had consumed last night. He blushed as he remembered their evening together, and he was suddenly very aware of their nakedness under the covers. They had finally given into their passion for one another after one of Diavolo’s parties, bursting through Lucifer’s bedroom door with MC in his arms. He then spent hours dotting their skin with his kisses and gentle nibbles as they shared their hopefully first of many moments of intimacy together.

As he was lost in thought, MC began to stir. Lucifer watched as they shifted to lay their head on his chest. “Morning, Luci.” they murmured softly. Lucifer planted a kiss to the top of their head. “Good morning, my love. I trust that you slept well?” MC nodded slowly, a smile spreading across their face. They laid together in silence for a few more moments, enjoying each other's company and not quite ready to get up and face the day. Finally, Lucifer yawned and wrapped his arms around MC. “I think we should get into the shower. Does that sound good to you?” MC could practically melt into the warmth of his chest. His arms squeezed them and they nodded. “Yes please.” Lucifer planted a quick kiss to their forehead, and tossed the covers to the side. MC gazed lovingly at his nude body as he got up to head to his bathroom. They couldn’t believe that he was theirs. Lucifer smirked as he felt MC’s gaze resting on him. “I’ll get the shower going. Are you enjoying the view?” MC blushed, pulling the covers up to their face. “O-Of course, how couldn’t I? I mean, just look at you…” It was Lucifer’s turn to blush this time, but the familiar feeling of pride bloomed in his chest at the compliment. 

Lucifer disappeared into the bathroom and MC decided that they should follow. Slowly getting out of bed, they noticed how sore they had become overnight due to the evening they had shared together. MC walked over to Lucifer’s standing mirror and took in their reflection. Their hair was messy from just rolling out of bed, and their bare skin was littered with bite marks. A series of bruises were also beginning to form across their hips and thighs. MC’s face flushed and they felt the weight of Lucifer’s arms wrap around them from behind. “I couldn’t help myself darling. You were absolutely beautiful and I had to make you mine.” MC shivered as the eldest demon whispered in their ear, his voice low and husky with desire. “In fact, looking at you now just makes me want even more.” His crimson eyes stared back at you through his reflection in the mirror as he wandered his hands across their skin. “Luci, please, I’m cold!” MC whined playfully as they wiggled out of his grasp. Lucifer chuckled at the sight of the goosebumps that were now covering their exposed skin. He couldn’t help himself as he leaned in to plant a kiss firmly to MC’s lips. “Then follow me to the shower, I would be honored to be of assistance to you.”