It's Been A Week, Still Working On Satan, Still Alive, Still Giving You Another Two Unnecessary Cat Pics

MC: Is stabbing someone immoral? Belphegor: Not if they consent to it. Satan: Depends who you’re stabbing. Simeon: YES?!?

My Dad!Raf fic, as promised☺️

No Harm Done

cw// fem!reader(referred to as wife, mama, mother, etc), tooth rotting fluff, toy/bubble gun, some injury(soap in eyes and falling on soapy floor >:)), FLUFFFFF

wc; 1355 | proofread by the lovely @grievetheliving3311 | I'm calling the daughter Pearl bc I saw hc about Raf's first daughter being named Pearl and couldn't help myself☺️

A little girl really, absolutely, couldn't possibly do that much harm. Right? At least, that's what you assumed Rafayel must have been thinking when he gave your 5-year-old daughter a bubble gun.

You were simply sitting at the desk you had managed to cram into the bedroom, when you moved in with Rafayel. The desk was simple, wooden, not too tall, and not too short. Your laptop was propped comfortably in the rough middle of the desk, and there were various messy drawings, small paintings, and files scattered amongst the rest of your stationary. Your chair was soft, with a backrest that barely passed your head, and armrests at the perfect height. Not to mention how warm it was from the advancing dusk that infiltrated your pretty, white, curtains.

You weren't doing anything in particular, just scrolling on social media after a long day at work. You thought your husband was painting in his studio, letting your dear little gremlin run around and play. Yeah, you thought. Although, once you heard two sets of giggles, it became increasingly clear that you were wrong.

You decide to believe that Rafayel simply took a break to play with your daughter, and go back to what you were doing, when…

“Mama! Put yer hands where I can see ‘em!” The little girl bursts in with a huge grin on her face.

You can't help but smile as well, at the sight, until you see what she's holding.

It's hard to see in the dim, dusk lighting, but it looks somewhat like the weapon you use for work! Reasonably panicked, you quickly stand, and rush over to her.

“Sweetheart, where did you-” Relieved to suddenly find it isn't actually your gun, you wonder where she got a bubble gun from… Or rather, who.

“Baby, did Papa give you this?” You ask softly, tapping your index finger on the semi-hexagonal shape of bubble wands on the end of the ‘barrel’.

Pearl lets out an excited ‘mhm!’, and you can see where she previously lost one of her back teeth purely from how big she's smiling. It's kind of somber to see how fast your little girl is growing up, but, nevertheless, you have a culprit to catch.

You think for a moment…, how to scare your husband? Hmm… Aha!

“Do you wanna sneak up on Papa?” You propose, already preparing to let your little troublemaker climb onto your shoulders.

She beams, “Can we!?” Her eyes absolutely light up like the sea you swear is hidden in them.

You smile warmly, “We can,” You turn her around so you can pick her up and plop her on your shoulders.

Slowly, you stand up, a smirk playing on your lips. You secure the dear girl by gently holding her ankles, slowly creeping down the hallway. Quietly(though not quiet enough), you giggle, but Pearl playfully shushes you, and rests against the top of your head.

She holds the bubble gun so that your head acts as a stand for it. Your little shrimp giggles, gasping afterwards as if she'll shush herself.

Once you reach the end of the hallway, you hug the wall, scanning the living room-turned-art studio for your husband. You can hear the ticking of Rafayel’s analog clock, and the soft classical music he has playing.

Eventually, you find the chance to sneak up on him. Watching as he sits on a low stool to work on a smaller painting, you begin to creep forward with a big grin on your face. Slowly, once you might as well be breathing down his neck, you trail your right hand from your daughter's ankle and jolt! Rafayel’s shoulder with it.

“Hands up, Papa!” Your baby girl giggles.

Thinking nothing could happen, little Pearl pulls the trigger of her toy… just as her father yelps and turns around to face you…

“Oh! Raf, are you okay!?” You quickly, and gently, place the new culprit on the nearby couch.

You hurry back over to your husband, but…, you underestimate how slippery your daughter's earlier playtime has made the floor. You slip, clattering to your butt, right next to where Rafayel is wincing on his knees.

You can't hold back your laughter, but Pearl breaks first. She's giggling and writhing on the couch, while you and Rafayel begin to double over in laughter instead of pain. You're pretty sure the soap bubbles are making his eyes water, and despite the sting, and the soapy-salty tears on his cheeks, it's obvious his two guppies are his favorite people in the world. But you do have a mess or two to clean now…

Your daughter gasps loudly, “Mama! Papa! It got painted!”

The two of you look over in confusion, laughing when you see the tiny bit of paint that got on the toy. You look back at each other and your hand reaches out to brush some bubbles away from Rafayel's cheeks.

“Thank you, Treasure,” He smiles.

You had always liked the nickname. Though he wasn’t a pirate or anything, being the God of the Sea was close enough for you.

With a content sigh, you plant a chaste kiss to your husband’s lips, sneakily ruffling his perfect hair, “Let’s get all this cleaned up, yeah?”

You help Rafayel to his feet, moving to snatch your daughter up onto your hip. You guide Rafayel to the bathroom, letting him wash his eyes as you wander to the kitchen to take care of Pearl’s dilemma.

Kissing her forehead, you set the small girl down on the counter beside the sink. You start humming a soft tune, the one you always hum to help your mischievous guppies fall asleep. You turn on the faucet. She hands you the bubble gun, smiling giddily at the thought of it being cleaned.

You run the spot of paint under the warm water, figuring it'll get the paint off faster than cold water can. Pearl watches, mesmerized by the water whirlpooling in the drain as her father quietly approaches.

Much to your surprise, Rafayel gets his revenge. Sneaking up to hug you from behind, he lets the remaining water on his face drip down your nape. Out of surprise, you jump and end up letting go of the bubble gun. It hits the bottom of the sink, knocking the soap cartridge loose. You giggle obliviously, turning your head to receive another innocent kiss, as your beloved wipes away a few drops of water from your neck.

“Mama, look!” Pearl squeals, pointing at the sink.

And that's when you notice the sink is filling with bubbles, all thanks to the warm water and loose bubble cartridge. You let out a surprised yelp, quickly turning off the water.

“Oh…, Raf, ‘m sorry; lemme-”

“No, let me,” He interrupts, “You go lay down with Pearl.”

With a sigh, you wrap your husband in a grateful hug. Lifting your daughter into your arms, with a small ‘c’mon, sweet-pea', you wander back down to her bedroom.

After putting her into her favorite mermaid pajamas, you shuffle off to yours and Rafayel's bedroom. You lay down with her, humming as the two of you cuddle up under the huge blanket.

Without much effort, you both drift off as quickly as all this fun unfolded. Like a typical little kid, Pearl snores softly in your hold, safe in her mother's embrace. Rafayel’s pillow is soft beneath your cheek, justifying your habit of stealing his half of the bed.

Soon he comes back, figuring he could watch a movie with his wife and daughter, only to find you both out cold… on his pillow.

He sighs, shaking his head with a soft smile. He climbs into bed to face you, one arm sliding under you to rest your head on his toned-yet-cushy bicep. Rafayel wraps his other arm over your waist, trapping Pearl between your chests, rubbing your back while your mini-me curls up against her parents’ chests like a baby shrimp.

With the messes cleaned, and a happy sleeping family, the night goes off without a hitch; your dreams intertwining and your smiles softer than the pillows beneath you.

© a-yciecat

Fandoms and No-No's for requests!

I'm going to cry; I'm making a Door of Resurrection(from Genshin Inpact) phone stand, and this is the second time the glue has broken its hold, at this point I'm going to put it on the base as two pieces

By far my fav screenshot

I want baby cat but I also want to write more fics. So can y'all help me out and send fic reqs? Cats are expensive and writing is free so I can at least do that lol

It's my 1 year anniversary on Tumblr 🥳

Hey so like, I'm currently writing a book and was wondering how many people would be interested in reading the first 2 or 3 chapters of it? It's set in a fantasy version of Ancient Greece, and the main characters are a goddess and her two guards. It's about the goddess, Serafina, and how the loyalty of one of her guards turns into the guard obsessing over her, and how everything takes a turn when the guard does something to "prove her loyalty" to Serafina. Would you guys be interested?

He's done!!!!

To Hell With It!

Satan x Overworked GNReader fluff drabble!

You had been staying up very late recently, doing schoolwork, projects, and the like. All of the brothers had noticed your change in demeanor, but Satan especially. He decides to offer some well needed relaxation.

Tags\\ fluff, cuddles, stressed reader, Satan is worried for you

You had fallen asleep at your desk for the fourth time this week, and it was Tuesday. A pen in your hand as your head rocked off of the arm it was resting on, causing you to accidentally draw a line on your cheek.

Suddenly, your eyes shot open, and you sat up straight at the feeling of a papercut-covered hand tapping your shouder.

"I didn't mean to scare you, only to wake you," The bookworm chuckled, "This isn't good for your back."

With a tired smile, you turned to face him in your chair, "No shit; I didn't mean to fall asleep here."

With a yawn, you looked to the clock. It said 5:30 pm.

"Dinner is ready. I believe I speak for us all when I say I would appreciate if you ate with us," He rubbed your shoulder, then lifted his hand to rub at the pen on your cheek.

"Then I'll join you. Who cooked tonight, again?" You began to put together some of your papers, as to be organized for when you came back to your room.

A moment of silence passed by until you opened the door, "Asmo did..."

"I haven't died from his cooking," You rolled your eyes, drowsily leaving the room.

"Yet," He added on.

Dinner passed, and you managed to only eat the edible parts of Asmo's beautiful cooking, or God-forbid ingredient-combining.

You get up to head back to your room, not even bothering to do more than dump your dishes in the sink, when Satan once again grabs your shoulder.

"I know you're heading back to your room," He scowls.

"And why would you think that?" You shoot back.

"You've been doing so every night," An unimpressed expression presents across his face.

"Oh," You drop your head in realization, "I guess I have..."

He removes his hand from you, relocating it onto his hip, "Come take a short nap with me. You deserve some rest that isn't at your desk."

He has a point, and you know he does.

With a sigh, you oblige. Snaking your hand into his as you go up the stairs, he pretends not to notice.

Going down the hallway, you hear him mumbling something to himself about 'I wish they'd be more aware of their own limits'.

"Hm?" You question, looking up at him.

"Nothing," He hums back.

"You sure?" You squeeze his hand.

"Mhm." He chuckles, letting go of your hand only to throw you over his shoulder effortlessly.

You let out a yelp and try to sit up straight with a whine. He doesn't let up. Instead, he teases you about how you were apparently wobbling when you walked. By the time you come up with an argument, he's already reached his bedroom door.

He sets you down gently, "Come, let's go lay down."

You let out a hum, weaving your way between his mountains of books. Once you find his bed you climb in, hiding yourself in his blankets.

"Wait, Mc, don't sleep in your-" He frets, but you cut him off before he can finish.

"Yeah, yeah, I know..." You mumble, crawling back to the edge of the bed.

He pulls your tired form to your feet, hugging you for a moment. You've never seen him so tender and kind. Then again, maybe you're just too tired to remember.

After the soft hug, he practically parkours to his closet to find you a t-shirt and some shorts that will barely fit you.

He comes back, handing you the clothes before he goes to wait in the hall. You quickly change, laughing at how big his shirt is on you, but I guess that's the least you can expect when wearing a demon's clothing.

After asking if you're done, he comes back in, chuckling at the size of his clothes around your form.

The two of you crawl back into his bed, and he lays on his back so that you can puddle onto his chest. And that you do.

You wrap your arms around him, letting your ear rest over his heart, and the sound of the peaceful beating alone is almost enough to send you into a more healthy sleep than before.

"Would you like me to read to you?" He hums, and you nod in response.

That's your last straw. The sound of his voice and heartbeat, and the comforting warmth of his body and blankets have you drifting off in minutes.

Finally, you'll take a break. He rubs your back; maybe he should take a nap too.

Ft. My cat

© a-yciecat

have you done the constellation Orion yet?

I have actually, I did a few this morning!😊 It's one of my favorites too!