Sometimes I Forget How Much Power I Have As An Artist

this gorgeous ruby-eyed bastard <3

lucifer flicking your forehead when you start blowing bubbles into your drink at mealtimes because “it’s improper” and “you’ll set a bad example for my brothers.”

mammon looking horrified when you burp a little at the table. it’s not because he thinks it’s gross, but because lucifer ties him to the ceiling whenever he does.

leviathan glaring at you when you put your feet on his chair and keep him from getting up. you don’t notice, and he is getting a little more irritated by the second because he wants seconds before beel gets to his fifths.

satan kicking your shins and trying so hard not to laugh when you bring up an inappropriate topic at dinner. you just keep going and he just keeps chortling when everyone else looks so done with you. lucifer is rubbing his temples. you‘re in for it later, mc.

asmo playfully smacking your arm when you start complaining about school. it’s funny, because he‘s acting all cute while the rest of the table looks very worried as lucifer stares you down.

beel vigorously shaking his head when you eat too fast. he can’t blame you, but mc please youre going to get in trouble!

belphie trying to shake you awake when youre nodding off at lunch. if lucifer catches you, who knows what he‘ll do.

ʚɞ Gojo Satoru Fic Recommendations ʚɞ

Forever Yours

J’adore

Scars don’t fade

August

Sincerely Not

Sincerely Yours

Everyone’s Doll

Missed Connection

Confessions

Confidential

Violet Lights

Starboy

The Twist of a Knife

A Dangerous Game

Fate’s Gamble

All I Need

Baby Steps

Finite

Sensual Epiphany

Two Lines

Changes

Infidelity

The Fuck List

In Other Words, I Love You (Dead Dove: Do Not Eat)

Permanent Mark

Sundered

Kick Off

The Unfaithful

I Still Want You

Untameable Waves (please come back)

HAPPY BIRTHDAY SIMEON!!!✨🎆🎊🎉✨💓 I love this angel sm I'm crying

Background clouds by dearest sibling @webtail!!!! I told you I'd use it!!!

wwyd if he told you to walk the plank

HYAKUYA MIKAELA

Im never becoming old and I’m never dying so God can figure that one out on his own. Not my problem

[ 𝟏𝟏:𝟐𝟑 𝐏𝐌 ] — 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐌𝐀 𝐒𝐇𝐔𝐉𝐈

warnings: mentions of abuse (hanma’s home life)

the light tapping on your window from hanma makes you quietly shuffle out of bed, careful not to let your parents hear as you cautiously open it and let your boyfriend in. he offers you a tight smile, climbing through quietly and standing before you.

“hey, baby—sh-shit,” he cuts himself off with a wince as you hug him. immediately, you pull away, concern written all over your face as you glance him over. his hair is disheveled and his jacket, thrown on in haste, hides the rips in his shirt. “just kinda sore, is all,” he tries to reassure you, but his voice wavers the slightest bit.

and then it clicks.

hanma seems unbreakable, untouchable, even. you’ve been guilty of seeing him that way countless times yourself, but dating hanma let’s you see more to him than what meets the eye. he’s human, you’ve seen this countless times. he has weaknesses, fears, and he has his own battles and inner turmoils. just like everyone else.

but mostly, he has a shitty hell hole of a home that you can’t wait to get him out of.

“was he drunk again?” you murmur, pushing back a few stray strands of hair from his face.

he doesn’t meet your eyes, and you know it’s hard for him to open up about these things to you. it’s hard for him to admit that he lets these things happen to him in the walls of his own home while he roams the street almost like a god amongst men. it’s hard for him to look you in the eye and let you see the sore parts and the battered and bruised ones too.

inside and out.

“when’s he not?” he chuckles bitterly. “‘s okay, baby. i’m okay,” he shrugs. but before he can make his way past you and climb onto your bed, you lay a hand on his cheek, making him pause. it’s the gentleness of your touch, how tender and careful and loving it is when it comes to him, how you treat him like he’s made of glass even if he’s much stronger than you—not because he’s weak, but because he’s precious—that makes you home for hanma.

not that shitty busted down apartment with his drunkard father that likes to take swings at him for the littlest of things.

“shuji, let me see,” you insist. he hesitates, he doesn’t want you to see the bruises that litter his body from his father’s escapade tonight. and he remembers laying as a child, back when he used to let tears stream down his face, how he’d always dreamt of having somewhere to run to.

and now, now that the tears don’t come, now that he simply takes it like he’s trained himself to do, he realizes he does have somewhere to run to. your arms, no matter where you might be, are his safe haven.

as are his for you.

“don’t worry—”

“i always worry,” you cut him off. and for a second, he stares at you so intensely, you wonder if you’ve said the wrong thing. but then, he buries his head into your neck, clutching onto you tightly as you feel small tears drop and wet your skin. it’s been a really long time since hanma’s let himself cry over his fucked up home and his fucked up dad, but now he has someone to wipe the tears, and it’s almost overwhelming—the warmth and the hope, he’s never felt things like that before.

“didn’t even say shit to him this time,” he grits his teeth. “went off over nothing,” his voice cracks along with your heart.

and of the two of you, you’ve always had a better moral conscience, but for a split second, it flies out the window as you wish the worst upon the man who’d hurt the boy in your arms. some day, you think, when you and hanma get away from all of this, you’ll both give his father a taste of his own medicine.

but for now, you turn to your boyfriend, rubbing his back soothingly as you press a soft kiss to the side of his head. he sniffles, relaxing slightly when your fingers thread through his messed up hair.

“he won’t be able to hurt you for much longer,” you promise. “and then we’ll burn his whole place down,” you smile, bringing his face out of your neck and cupping his cheeks. he lets out a watery chuckle as your thumb wipes the stray tears.

“he’s gotta be in it when we do,” he adds. hanma let’s himself sit on your bed, watching as you pull out a hoodie you’d stolen from him, making your way over.

“of course,” you grin, kissing his forehead. “i’ll go get you something to eat, i’m sure you haven’t eaten much,” you say quietly. and he knows it’s an excuse to leave him to change out of his ruined shirt alone, he knows it’s so he doesn’t have to feel any weaker than he already does from you seeing the marks that litter his upper body.

hanma promises he’ll offer you everything you’ve given him and more some day, he’ll have the city down on its knees before him, and he’ll make sure you’re there by his side watching.

“make sure to get me something sweet,” he calls, grinning when you roll your eyes.

“you can have something sweet after some real food, shuji,” you say sternly, and the fondness in your voice and the softness of your gaze makes him realize he’d follow you everywhere—to the end of the world and beyond that if he has to, just for the taste of home you give him.

* mammon and Satan sitting together in jail *

Satan : so who should we call ?

Mammon : I'd call Lucifer but I feel safer in jail

Kiss Their Feet, Part 2 

hanma x reader

summary: hanma demands that his entire gang kiss your feet to ensure they knew exactly what his priorities were going to be, and treats you to some much needed cuddling after.

warnings: humiliation, gang stuff, but mostly fluff

attention was not something you were used to, nor liked. truly, you never understood how people could ever want to be the center of attention, thrive in the midst of it. it seemed counterproductive and obsessive to you.

so even with tears streaming down your face, you huddled your body into hanmas as much as possible in the current position you were held in, hiccuping softly into his neck so as to avoid the stares of strangers crowding the valhalla arcade.

it seemed that you didn’t do well when gangsters take you to their boss with the intent of doing bad things to you.

you were just really grateful that it was only hanma you had to face. but the pity you held for yourself at the body-freezing fear you felt when they grabbed you and gagged you and dragged you to hanmas throne was enough to make you want to stay in your room for days.

“kiss their fucking feet,” hanma’s voice boomed, startling you out of your trance. suddenly your main focus was not trying not to cry, but on what hanma just demanded of his gang.

lifting your face out of the comfort of hanmas neck, your eyes widened when the leader of the smaller division that had brought you here so rudely stumbled toward you, a black eye and broken nose so visibly obvious that even you felt a twinge of remorse. he dragged his broken leg to the elevated position of hanmas seat, and collapsed downward, eliciting a gasp from you.

and then he kissed your feet, just the tip of your shoe.

your hands clutched at hanmas shirt tighter, breaths coming out of you sharply. his chest was to your back, your legs comfortably between his to ensure that you were surrounded by the presence of him and him only.

“next,” hanma’s voice cracked through the silence, and one by one each member of valhalla dropped to their knees and kissed your shoes.

after some point, you closed your eyes, and allowed yourself a sniffle, leaning into hanmas chin (he was much taller than you). you had looked up to him once, and unfortunately, his gaze was stone set towards his gang, disappointment emanating off of him in very obvious waves. waves that made his gang leave their eyes dedicated to the ground.

the ordeal ended soon enough. after dismissing everyone, hanma lifted you bridal-style up, and walked you to his place.

his pace was slow and methodical, despite the moons glare. he himself seemed…dejected almost.

it hit you at some point that he felt as if he failed you — the whole point of not introducing you to his gang originally was to protect your identity. but it backfired in the worst way possible.

hanma reached his apartment in no time and lifted both you and himself under his white covers. your back to his chest again, you just felt safer immediately. he rubbed comforting circles around you, and whenever you whimpered, he pulled your closer, softly expressing how you were safe, and how he would never let you get hurt again.

and when he thought you were asleep, he whispered a shaky “im sorry”, his grip tightening exponentially around your waist.

your eyes flew upon at that, upsetting feelings rising within you one more time. turning sharply, you held his face in your hands.

he smiled lazily. sadly. “hi sweetheart,” he sleepily slurred.

panic coursed through you. that tone…he wasn’t going to leave you right? you loved him too much…as did he.

“it’s okay,” you breathed out, shakily moving hair strands away from his eyes. his own eyes closed, breathing deeper with your presence. a content look crossed his expression.

you both slept just like that. face to face, eye to eye. soul to soul.

a/n - awww some soft hanma :( hope you guys liked it hehe….my next muzan chapter is coming out soon dw dw sorry im late again 🤧🤧 STAY SAFE EVERYONE ILY ALL