a bewitching theatre

lyn & im 25

standard dni applies!

this is just a sideblog & barely exist on this blog

♡ that night had been filled with an electricity you hadn’t been used to as well. unconsciously, you really wanted to impress asmo, and wanted to make sure you looked good in front of all the guests he loosely called his friends. maybe his sin was peppered in the air, you hoped people would look at you and know that you knew asmo in ways that they would never think to imagine, that you had seen him really cry or that you had even seen him with a bandaid over a pimple on his forehead (thought you hadn’t ever seen the actual pimple). that your proximity to him would incite anything in them: anger, jealousy, awe, admiration. maybe that feeling was new, maybe it wasn’t. the venue was dark with varying shades of pink and white neon lights, all sorts of beings were pressed together in a way on alcohol could make cozy, the sound of the music drummed deep in your chest making your own heartbeat unrecognizable. you wondered is this the right idea? since you would, undoubtedly, see asmo again in the morning at home and would wish him happy birthday then, instead of watching him turn over a new year at midnight tonight. he thought himself to be the whole world like this, it made you smile how strange he truly was.

♡ the only worry you had was whether or not you would get to see asmo at all! the air was hot and sticky, the people around were singing and yelling and laughing and all of their faces were unrecognizable to you. there’s no earthly way someone could have actually known this many people, but then you supposed asmo had thousands of years to make friends. or maybe he hadn’t. there was also a surprising amount of humans at this party which lifted your spirits slightly: there would be something other than demonus here tonight. worming your way through the crowd, you found the bar, the bartenders all wearing paper masks with asmo’s smiling face on them. definitely weird, definitely on brand. asking asmo number five for something from the human realm, they poured you something pink and shimmery and you downed it in haste. it definitely was not champagne. but you couldn’t ignore the warmth and…..and confidence it was giving you. you asked for another.

♡ the ‘countdown to asmo day’ was projected on a screen behind the dj, ten minutes and fifty-four seconds. how long had you been here? this whole thing suddenly feels really funny. you start to giggle with a sparkly drink in your hand. hey when did you order this drink? hehe. it tasted sooooo good though maybe someone gave it to you with a smile because you looked sooo pretty tonight? hehe. well, you knew better than to drink an open drink anyway. you blinked slowly and staggered backwards bumping bodies with someone, not uncommon. giggling again you turned to apologize. oh! you found him! asmo! he had a wide eyed expression. “what’re you doing here? and like this too?” he gracefully stole the glass from your hand and smiled. “you look gorgeous” he added. hehe asmo was always so forward wasn’t he? you could smell demonus on him, but you really couldn’t tell he had been drinking at all. and what sort of question was that? what other reason could there be to go to an asmo party? that made him laugh in a way that made you swoon in a way you normally wouldn’t allow. maybe he hadn’t noticed maybe he had. asmo told you he was flattered you came this time after many many months of asking you to attend one. wishing you two had walked in together to turn heads and gain gasps from his audience. somehow you were just sober enough to roll your eyes at such a statement, but unable to tell if it was bass or butterflies in your stomach.

♡ the ‘asmo day’ timer ticked on minutes went by that he stood and talked with you. you don’t remember when he had taken your hand in the conversation, whether to steady or you because he liked doing so you didn’t have the mind to wonder. your drink still in his hand like an accessory. anger burned in your chest inexplicably—why was he down here talking with you? shouldn’t he have been on stage taking in the excitement when the asmo-faced ball dropped down the miniature tower? you had been shouting over the music all night, so maybe your tone hadn’t changed when you said this. asmo kept on smiling at you, but his eyes softened. “i really wish i would’ve known you were here tonight.” he had leaned into your ear to say that. something in your chest burned again. what the hell is that supposed to mean? and shouldn’t he be up there hosting his party. he leaned in again. as much as this is an asmo party, the majority of it is mostly, he said to you, for show—the humans; the incubi; the demons; those sneaky, sneaky angels; they weren’t here for asmodeus, but for what he represents: unadulterated and limitless access to their deepest desires. asmo always found himself being incredulously honest with you, and here he was telling you that it wasn’t him they desired, but the desire itself kept them drawn to him. you blinked hard and he laughed. “unfortunately there’s no one else in the devildom who can host a party like i can, after attending an asmo party every other party will feel like a five year old’s birthday,” he spoke while waving that glass on the air, the glitter in it spun but not a drop sloshed out. “and besides, i’ve already gotten everything i wanted out of this party about ten minutes ago.” his smile morphed into a smaller, more intimate one. you couldn’t help but wonder if anyone else got smiles like this or if it was just for you. that shimmery drink hadn’t given you the confidence to ask him that.

♡ asmo was impressive, maybe you were truly seeing it for the first time. the atmosphere was both lighthearted and intense. all the bodies around found ways to flirt with each other, touch each other, give each other knowing looks before sneaking out of the crowds. you had even noticed a larger amount of eyes on you than usual and, without meaning to humble or self deprecating, you knew it was an effect of the party: the secret wants of someone bubbling beneath the surface of their everyday life was brought beneath asmo’s moonlight, unclothed, inspected, and accepted. encouraged, even. he looked over his unruly crowd with a pleasure of his own, something almost paternal in his eyes. you called to him again. the countdown had begun from thirty. when asmo turned to look at you, you noticed the way he looked at you. innocent. not that he thought of you in that sense, but that he hadn’t looked at you with the intention of eating you up. maybe it was that drink, but this really annoyed you. the crowd calling numbers annoyed you, the way people came and went touching asmo’s arms and shoulders and waist annoyed you, the fact that he felt like babysitting you in the crowd instead of putting on a show on stage annoyed you. also the way he trusted you with his secrets was starting to annoy you. half teetering, you leaned into his chest hoping to press your lips against his and to your bewilderment, he pulled away biting his own intensely. “you don’t understand it,” he panted “but i’ve really, really been holding back. because it’s you.” the look in his eyes where the ones you had been longing for. the countdown concluded in a series of cheers and applause, the crowd all pulling the ones nearest to them into lust filled kisses. only you and asmo stood staring at each other. the energy, the smell, his hand in yours, the look on his face…you leaned once again and said “did you really think you were the only one?”

♢ you and mammon sit shoulder to shoulder staring at the black screen of his ddd. there wasn’t any reason to be nervous, but mammon was anxiously awaiting to hear from his agent if he had booked a new gig—an small role in a new d-drama. the acclamation was one thing, the money another, mammon hadn’t stopped talking abt it since his audition. finally his screen lit up: an email notification. he opened it slowly and yelled “we did it!!! we did it! oh man, you’re my good luck charm we gonna be so rich!!!!” he threw his arms around you and jumped in a circle, mammon’s happiness is your happiness as well.

♢ in front of the computer screen, one hand on the mouse other on the keyboard, levi kept giving you directions on where to go and what to do even though he said he would let you play the game yourself. “wait, wait if you turn around and walk through tht wall there’s a secret cave full of ss grade items! no, no turn around argh” he puts his hand on your shoulder and points in the opposite direction in which you were moving “literally it’s a wall covered in vines. i found it on accident my seventeenth time playing through it hahahah that was the round i completed the fastest…” his story is much harder to follow when his voice is this close to you, but you never want to miss his words.

♢ many food ingredients in the devildom remind you of things you can find back home in the human realm, so you decide to try and recreate a meal you already know. while stirring the pot, you feel someone approach you from behind “hmm? what is it that you’re making?” it’s satan it’s his head titled to the side. he had placed his hand on the counter trapping your waist between himself and the stove, his other hand placed on his hip in curiosity. his fingers tapped on the marble, his eyebrows furrowed and unfurrowed. you dipped the spoon in and brought it to his lips to taste.

♢ there were so many formal events held at diavolo’s castle you began wondering if it really was so imperative that you and everyone had to attend every single one. racing down the hallway, you hear asmo’s voice “oii your tag is sticking out. sigh, come here, come here!” you stop in your tracks, your hands shooting to the back of your formal attire. you can hear asmo chuckling. “let me see〜” one hand gracefully touches your side, the other you feel down your collar tucking your tag back into place. “this is perfect timing,” he says from behind you, “i need someone to help me zip my dress♪”

♢ without you asking, beel takes bottle from you hand and twists the lid off for you. “humans are so fragile” he mentions and hands it back to you, not tht you needed his help to open a bottle of raspberry juice. with that thought in mind, you managed to spilled some down your chin. are you a child? beel chuckles to himself, putting one hand on the top of your head, the other takes out a handkerchief and wipes it off for you. punctuating his handiwork with a head rub he adds “humans are so clumsy, too.” you drink your juice more carefully this time.

♢ a new cafe was opening downtown! the first hundred patrons would receive a mystery prize and a free parfait topping! while scrolling devilgram you saw the post and called belphie over to look. he places his head on your shoulder to look over your shoulder at your phone. “ah, im pretty sure that’s the same place i was talking to you about last week? when i said we should eat a strawberry parfait together” he lazily drapes his arm around your shoulder. though, you’re sure he did not ask you to eat desert together, maybe he had dreamt about it.

𖣯 mika had a gracefulness that always felt unearthly. when the stars would align for you to catch him in practice, secretly looking through the small window of the door, you could see him moving with his eyes closed to the rhythm of the violin. or maybe the violin followed his instructions, his fingertips drawing out the sound as he twisted and turned his facial expressions setting the mood. to call him mesmerizing was a violent understatement the world faded into nothing when you could witness him in that state

𖣯 the same could be said for the somber tone in his voice, the sound of standing in the rain waiting for someone to come home to you. hearing him sing clearly gave your heart reason to move, your head slowly leaning towards the side….are you swooning? there’s an air of confidence he inherits on stage you never get to see when he sits with you in the es cafeteria passing a jelly bean onto your plate, maybe it’s for your own benefit to see his blushing face everyday instead

𖣯 and you’re grateful for his skittish affection, because you do get to see his serious countenance on occasion. when you’re either lucky or unlucky enough (in your opinion) to become his mannequin for the weekend for a new commission, you get a glimpse of the intensity his eyes could hold. while he makes adjustments to the garment, biting the inside of his cheek, tilting his head to get the right angle, admiring or disapproving his work, all you can do is think of much he smells of peppermints and how easily he touches your waist without a second thought. you still burn hot underneath his gaze, even if it’s on his creation. between his singing, dancing, sewing, eyes, hands, prescence, maybe mika is a completely different person than you originally thought? well, the thought crossed your mind until you noticed mika had pricked his finger while threading the needle without noticing, now you’re going to have to get your first aid kit.

…and his afternoon cafe runs.

ఌ Though his concentrated face while mulling over his stage designs are heart fluttering, the issue lies (as he would say) with y o u. ‘Ah, is there a hole in your chin? How did you get icing there? You’re this old already how haven’t you learned how to eat properly yet?’ Shu always presses your cheeks between his elegant fingers, takes his napkin, and wipes off the remains of your cinnamon bun while scolding you. His hands feel a little cold but soft and after knowing him for so long you can only hear the warmth in his voice. You can’t help but think it’s a little unfair—he’s already talking to you about something different while your heart is still pounding in your chest.

ఌ His bad habits also follow the both of you out in public. It looks like there’s a brand new craft store across the street from the cafe, though it’s wares look a little cheap it’s still worth a trip inside! You always have to walk a little faster to keep pace with Shu when he spots something interesting, smiling slightly while listening to him talk about how long lasting cashmere can be if you treat your clothing with care. When you can’t fast enough Shu finds himself sighing and grabbing your wrist to make sure you don’t fall behind. ‘It’s important for you to know these things! And you’re walking to slowly! How can you do your job properly if you can’t manage to make it from one end to the other without assistance?’ Because he’s still walking ahead of you, you can safely give him a lovelorn look, why does he hold your wrist but not your hand?

ఌ Possibly his worst habit rears it’s head in the small craft store aisles……besides openly criticizing the fabric and jewelry making supplies for being stiff and unmanageable. There’s many other customers looking for ways to begin their seamster journeys. Too many. Whether Shu is a repellent or you are a magnet—people just won’t stop bumping into you. The thread aisle, the button aisle, the velcro aisle…Shu begins to huff like it was your fault. Placing an arm around your side he pulls you out of the way of another shopper, bumping your shoulders together. ‘Won’t you pay a little more attention?’ As if you could in a situation like this. His soap has just the faintest scent of linen & peonies, even though he smells like laundry in an open field something about it reminds you of star gazing. The only thing keeping you grounded is the feeling of his hand around your upper arm keeping you out of “harms way”. It might be a blessing that he has a bad habit of not noticing when he manages to make you feel so flustered. ‘Stand right next to me. Ah, I can’t take you anywhere.’ …..He really has a bad habit of saying that, too.

𓍯 He was cold in the wintertime, at least to you. It was the first time you had ever been told ‘shoo’ but another human being. Unbelievable!!! But you had watched him from across the road chasing after someone to return the wallet the dropped, hastily turning away from them mumbling about wasting his time and getting off schedule; you has seen him tying the scarf around his unit mate’s neck with care; you had felt his cool, gentle hand wrap a bandaid on your finger after pricking it on a needle. You couldn’t even hear him fussing at you over the sound of your own heartbeat.

𓍯 Your curiosity only bloomed brightly in the spring time, at least for him. Glimpses of his generosity weren’t enough anymore, you kept looking for him even if you didn’t mean to. The menu at the coffee shop, the stuffed pink bear on display at the mall, the violin playing in the museum…everything reminded you of that ever present scowl on his face. He began letting you ramble on about unnecessary things sitting with his chin in his hand. You couldn’t tell which one of you kept touching your pinky fingers together.

𓍯 His laugh boomed in the summertime, at least for you. You were lucky to watch his plans come into fruition, the watch his concepts come to life. He contacted you first, talking so quickly, and hanging up before you could even get a word in. It was so warm: when did you become the first person he needed to tell? He remembered your favorite iced drink and ordered for you before you arrived, complaining about how important it is to be on time. You tried to look as naive as possible while he asked you what your favorite summertime flower is, and if you had time to meet next week.

𓍯 You felt safe in the autumn hours, at least with him. Especially while wearing the dainty gold bracelet he bought for you on your birthday. Your handmade apple pastries always tasted better when you ate them with him. One of your hands always warmed by one of his. The world always seemed to slow down this time of year but you didn’t mind; the world could stop and you wouldn’t mind. “Stop letting your mind mind wander and pay attention to me!” He said to you. “It will be wintertime before you even realize! Ah time really does pass by so quickly…”