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citrus-cinnamon · 6 months

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Title: Domesticated.

Commissioned by the very lovely, very inspired @elsecrytt.

Pairing: Yandere!Satan x Reader (Obey Me).

Word Count: 7.0k.

TW: Dub/Con & Non/Con, AFAB!Reader, Reader Is Straight Up A Bad Person In This One, Toxic Relationships, Semi-Public Sex, Bondage, Oral Sex, Overstimulation, Coercion, Prolonged Grooming, Mentions of Blood and Violence, Slight Stalking, and Obsessive Behavior. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.

You were the first one to find Satan.

It wasn’t difficult. You’d been around long enough at that point to know that the birth of a demon was a strange, spontaneous thing; loud and wild, often accompanied by pillars of flame and always violent enough to leave the earth scarred in its wake. While his brothers fell from paradise like stars displaced from their heavens, you followed the cloud of smoke rising from the wasteland that made up the Devildom’s outskirts, tracked the scent of cedar and ivy and sulfur until you found him, seething in a crater of his own creation, freshly charred feathers still littered around him as he lashed out blindly, his aggression without a target but no less volatile for its aimlessness. He was bare save for the ash smeared across his pale skin, and you could make out a lashing tail behind him, a pair of curling horns sprouting from his waist-length hair, a pair of cat-like pawed feet he’d grow out of in a few weeks – all the same shade of black as the obsidian that surrounded him and tipped with a green you could only compare to the color of toxic waste, to the kind of emerald shine an insect might wear to let you know it was venomous. Every part of him practically glowed with rage. If you’d been aware of which throne he would take after he and his brothers found their footing in their new realm in that moment, you would’ve thought it was fitting.

In short, he was beautiful. Awe-inspiringly, breath-takingly beautiful.

And you were never the kind of person who could resist beautiful things.

Carefully, with dampened footsteps and a preference for the shadows, you edged closer to him, never letting Satan leave your peripheral. You were still a hundred or so feet away when he snapped toward you, pointed teeth already bared and curved talons poised to attack. You couldn’t be sure how lucid he was, but whatever happened to be running through that empty mind of his, it wasn’t enough to stop him from snarling at you, from hunching his back and digging his claws into the ground and charging, intent on tearing anything he saw apart before his anger could cool. Elation overwhelmed you. You felt the corners of your lips curl upward as he lunged, your heart practically beating through your chest as his lithe body streaked through the flame-tinged moonlight, as you took in the rabid creature that would be your end. There were sixty feet between you, then forty, and then—

And then, something dark and terrible descended from the clouded sky, tackling Satan and pinning him to the ground. Lucifer, you discovered, once the dust cleared and you could make out his face, his wings (lesser by two and painted the color of impurity, you noted with a not inconsiderable sense of satisfaction). You didn’t wait for him to notice you. Slipping back into the shadows of the wasteland, you stole one more glance toward Satan only to find his attention still fixed on you, unwavering despite his new guardian. Your eyes met his, and without hesitation, you spared him a smile. Of course, he didn’t return the gesture, but you didn’t mind.

You slipped into the night, already dreaming of the day you’d see him again.

By the second time you got so close to Satan, he’d already gained a reputation of his own.

You couldn’t say you weren’t proud. His anger cooled in the months after his conception, and he found a place among his brothers who, in turn, established themselves in the Devildom’s admittedly lax hierarchy of power and pleasure and all the many things that thrived when given reprieve from the harsh light of the sun. You kept your distance. As greedy as you were, you knew better than to get involved with people who knew better than to get involved with you.

Instead, you watched from the crowd as Satan grew into his rank, as the more untamed parts of his demonic nature fell away and he came to resemble something… cleaner, something less animalistic. You didn’t care for the change, but still, you kept track of him. What could you say? Even polished, he was still a gem worth keeping an eye on.

Your dutifulness was rewarded, too. Or, that was what you told yourself, at least, as you picked the lock on the door of the lecture hall where he’d thrown his latest fit, where it’d taken Mammon and Beelzebub’s joint strength to restrain him. You let your fingertips graze past overturned tables and side-stepped the shattered remains of shattered chalkboards and wooden chairs, taking in the proof of his untamed rage as you approached him. He’d been restrained, left to fester in his wrath until he was calm enough to deal with properly. Silver chains adorned with hundreds upon thousands of archaic runes kept him bound to a marble pillar near the center of the classroom, his arms trapped against his side and his more demonic features still on full display, much to your delight.

Despite having been on his own for a few hours, now, his rage had yet to die down. His fangs were still bared, his claws still biting into his own palms, his thorned tail still lashing back and forth behind his back like that of some starving wildcat, agitated that its quarry had been taken away. He only had a fraction of the wild radiance you’d been so captivated by during your first encounter, but still, you found yourself grinning. Even diluted, he was still beautiful.

This time, you didn’t have to mind your distance. You came to a stop less than a full arm’s length in front of him, ducking slightly when the point of his tail made a jab at your throat. “It’s alright, princess,” you started, keeping your voice low, your tone light. Like you were trying to soothe a wild animal – which, to be fair, wasn’t exactly not what you were doing. “I’m not here to hurt you. I just wanted to see that pretty face again.”

He really was so unlike he had been, the first time you’d met. There was a flicker of recognition in those burning eyes, a slight change to his posture. He pressed his back against the pillar, squaring his shoulders as his rabid snarl dulled into a thin scowl. His tail continued to thrash and writhe, but he didn’t try to go for your throat again. “I don’t need your help.”

“I wasn’t going to make an offer.” His eyes narrowed, and you held his piercing gaze for a second, then another, before allowing your attention to drift lower. Surprisingly, his uniform hadn’t been damaged during his rampage, only displaced; his shirt missing a few buttons where he’d torn at the collar, the jacket he always let hang open pushed so far back, it now threatened to fall from his shoulders altogether. What you were looking for lied lower, though – in the unnatural creases and unusual tautness of his pants. It was a common (albeit, no less embarrassing) side-effect of supernatural creatures giving into their true nature, especially for younger demons who never learned how to control their more primal instincts. He probably knew that, but you doubted he knew how to take care of it, just yet. Especially with his older brothers still learning how to handle their own sinful impulses. “I mean, I would be willing to give you a hand, if you need one,” you went on, nodding to his painfully hard cock. “But, if you’d rather seethe and growl in an empty classroom until one of your brothers comes back for you…”

You held up your hands, moving to turn on your heel and leave him alone with his anger, but Satan’s eyes widened, straining against his bondage as he lurched forward, practically drooling at the first hint of fresh blood. “You… you can do something about that?”

The muted excitement in his voice gave away his eagerness, his desperation. You let out a breath of a laugh, taking half a step closer, testing the boundaries before trying to catch such an active spark in your hands. When he didn’t immediately lunge at you, you brought a hand up, cupping his cheek and running your thumb over his jaw. “Of course,” you said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. As if he was the foolish one for being stupid enough to doubt you. “But only if you ask me to. I’m not going out of my way to help someone who’s going to tear my throat out as soon as I’m done.”

And, even then, you could’ve been persuaded to lay back and let him have his way with you if he begged prettily enough. Luckily, he was already distracted, already leaning into your touch and staring up at you with a new kind of reverence. He couldn’t have known he was doing it – his pride wouldn’t have allowed him to. As far as you could tell, this was all instinct. “Do it.”

You sighed, shaking your head. “You’ll have to do better than that, princess.”

He was quiet for a moment, then another. “Please,” he spat, finally, as if the word burnt his tongue. “Please, help me get rid of it.”

“No one’s going to want to do anything with you if you use that tone.” And yet, you stepped forward, resting one hand on his shoulder while the other dropped to the tent in his pants, to his cock. You ground your palm against his shaft through the thick material, and Satan grit his teeth. He didn’t know much, but he knew enough not to debase himself so willingly in front of you. “You’re lucky I’m such a bleeding heart. Otherwise, I would’ve left you here to suffer minutes ago.”

You watched him try to fight it, clenching his eyes shut as he braced himself, putting more effort into limiting his reactions now than he’d ever spared for his temper tantrums. With deft hands and saliva already pooling below your tongue, you shifted his pants down just far enough to free his cock – hard enough to press into his stomach. Like everything else about him, it was beautiful – pale but not ghastly, visibly veined but not overly defined, the head tinted a deep shade of pink you didn’t know you’d held such a fondness for, before you saw it on him. It was already leaking, too – pearls of precum dripping down his length and smearing against your skin as you wrapped your fist around the shaft and pumped lazily, playing indifferent to the way he bucked and writhed underneath you. “This,” you started, slowly, “is called a handjob. You can do it yourself, too, but it’s not as good. You’ll probably just end up making it worse.”

You swiped your thumb over his leaking tip, and he gasped, pressing himself flush against the marble pillar. You heard his restraints rattle and tightened your grip just enough to distract him, to give him something better to think about than getting away. “Pay attention, ‘cause you’re going to have to return the favor. That’s how this kind of thing works – I help you, then you help me.”

He nodded, sucking in a shaky breath. He wasn’t the brightest thing you’d ever come across, but he still might’ve proven himself to be a dutiful-enough student. “A h-handjob.”

“Good boy.” You teased the head of his cock by way of reward, then ground the heel of your palm into his base as a punishment for making you wait. When you were sure the lesson had sunk in, you took to jerking him off in earnest, taking on a pace just on the brink of satisfying and drinking in the little, stuttering moans that dripped past his lips in response. When his legs started to buckle, you worked a knee between his thighs and slotted your chest against his, staring up at him with as much adoration as someone like you could lend to something like him. You felt his cock twitch in your hand, heard his breathing turn raspy and shallow, and without warning, you pulled away, removing yourself from him completely.

He let out a desperate whine, the embodiment of pitiful. With an airy chuckle, you lowered yourself onto your knees, letting your hands fall to his waist. “This one’s a blowjob,” you muttered, just barely loud enough to be audible. He might’ve been a mediocre student, but you were an excellent teacher – always striving to fill curious minds with as much applicable knowledge as you could. “Some people call it oral sex, too. You’ll like it even more.”

His voice was so weak, so prone to cracking and breaking that in another world, it could’ve been cute. “…sex?”

“We’ll get to that later.” You pressed a fleeting kiss into his hip. “Just pay attention to me, for now.”

He really was lucky to have you. Anyone else might not have been able to handle how roughly he thrust into your mouth as soon as you’d taken the leaking head onto your tongue, might not have been willing to put up with his insatiable desire to bury himself in your throat – unaware or uncaring of your desire to breathe. You were patient, though, and strict, eager to swallow him down as deeply as you were able to before pulling back, pinning his hips down, and running the flat of your tongue up the sensitive underside of his cock. Whatever well of self-control he’d been using to bite back his pathetic little noises had clearly run dry. He moaned unabashedly, throwing his head forward and shuddering. His tail lashed out, his body determined to protect itself where his mind was unable to, but you didn’t pull away as it curled around your arm, didn’t waver as its curved thorns shredded your sleeve and sunk into your skin. Rather, you groaned around him, savoring the pure heat dripping down your arm, the way his agony seemed to drive itself under your flesh and make a home there. It was an overdue paradise, one that paled in comparison to what you could’ve had if Lucifer hadn’t interrupted you on that first night. You tried to treasure it all the same.

You fell into a steady rhythm quickly, no longer in the mood to tease him. You kept your eyes open as you bobbed your head, fixed to his flushed cheeks, his pained expression, the way he couldn’t seem to decide whether he wanted to shrink into himself or struggle against his restraints. “Stop, I—” He cut himself off with another moan, a quick jerk of his head to the side. As if there was anything he could do to hide from you, in a state like this. “There’s something wrong with—”

“You’re going to cum,” you corrected, pulling off of him just far enough to speak. With your lips still pressed against the head of his cock, you added, “That means you want me to keep going.”

If he had any mind to protest, he wasn’t able to put his complaints into words. Instead, all he managed to spit out was a fractured sob as you felt him throb against your tongue, as he came undone in your mouth. You milked him for all you had, pumping a fist over his shaft as he clumsily fucked your throat, his inexperience shining through once his inhibitions had been thoroughly pushed to the wayside. When you were sure you’d gotten everything out of him that you could, when your senses had been overwhelmed by the heady taste of him and the proof of your labor sat heavy in the pit of your stomach, you drew back, pushing yourself to your feet and taking in what you’d done to him. He was a mess, his face red and damp with sweat, emerald scales visible just underneath the collar of his shirt. With a slight smile, you fished something out of your pocket – a small, silver cage that you’d liberated from a succubus’ locker about an hour prior, when you heard Satan had lost his temper yet again. It fit the base of his cock as if it’d been made for him – pressing flush against his skin as it snapped into place with a satisfying click. When you were done, you pushed a kiss into the corner of his lips before stepping back.

“When that starts to get uncomfortable,” you started, grinning. “Come and find me.”

You didn’t give him a chance to protest before slipping away, leaving him panting and half-dressed for someone more tender-hearted to take care of.

He made it three weeks before seeking you out. An impressive lapse, considering he’d been hard again by the time you left that classroom.

This time, you made an effort to keep your distance. No more trailing behind him as he walked with his brothers or standing on the outskirts of the crowd as he picked a fight with yet another low-ranking demon – no, what he needed from you now was separation, the time it would take for him to think to look for you in his peripheral and then, later on, to convince himself the pleasure you could give him was worth the blow it’d deal to his ego. You’d started to lose hope by the time bridged the gap at one of Lord Diavolo’s frequent balls, thrown to celebrate Satan and his brothers ascending to the rank of Avatar. No one could seem to remember there ever being a rank by that name before their arrival, but legislation was for the Celestial Realm. Citizens of the Devildom were always more than happy to sample their prince’s generosity, regardless of the occasion.

You’d just finished slipping a stunning silver ring off of a witch’s finger and onto your own when he found you, red-faced and visibly out of breath, as if he’d just run from one side of the castle to the other. You grinned, moving to speak, but he clearly didn’t have an interest in whatever you might’ve said; taking hold of your arm and dragging you out of the main ballroom by way of greeting. You made no effort to resist. Struggling was for people who wanted to run, people who’d lost control and needed to be somewhere else. You, on the other hand, couldn’t imagine being anywhere but here.

You let haul you down a dimly lit hallway and through a simple wooden door – almost meager, by the prince’s standards. It was a storage closet, as far as you could tell, the shelves stocked with miscellaneous supplies and the light limited to what little could flood through the gaps between the doorframe after Satan slammed it behind him. You didn’t mind it, but you would’ve preferred something a little brighter. You would’ve preferred to have him on a podium, underneath a spotlight, where you could see every last inch of his perfect body. You would’ve preferred to have him on a stage, posed to your preference for the approval of an eager audience. You’d always been charitable, like that.

But, you couldn’t linger on how you would’ve liked him when you already had him right in front of you. As soon as he’d ensured you were alone, he was scrambling to find your hand in the darkness, to press your palm into the outline of his throbbing cock and whine – a sound it’d taken him minutes to make, the first time you were alone together. “I can’t take it off, and—and it hurts.” His speech was frantic, disjointed, prone to slipping and tripping over itself between coherent words. You couldn’t imagine how he’d spent the past few weeks. Even his brothers would’ve noticed something was wrong, if he was always this worked up. “The cage burns when I touch it, and it won’t stop leaking—”

“Ah, ah, that’s enough.” The saint that you were, you chose to put him out of his misery sooner rather than later. “Why don’t you show me the problem?”

At that, he froze up, his neediness momentarily overwhelmed by pure, unadulterated shame. His fangs caught on his bottom lip as he looked away from you and towards himself, his hands shaking ever-so-slightly as he brought them to the button of his adorably uncharacteristic dress pants. His brothers must’ve picked out his clothes – partially, at least. You didn’t know whether to be amused or endeared by the fact that he wasn’t quite ready to make decisions for himself, just yet.

Under your instruction, he stripped quickly, the pieces of his suit falling away until he was left exposed in front of you, dressed only in your last gift to him. Speaking of – his cage was… stranger than you’d remembered it bring, the silver bars pulsing with a dull violet glow. A lasting enchantment, you figured. You should’ve expected as much from something you’d snagged from a succubus, those freaks.

You ran a finger over the curved spine, taking a long moment to appreciate the craftsmanship before you turned your attention back to the source of Satan’s suffering: his cock, already hard and, like he’d said, already leaking. You probably should’ve been more selective when it came to how you restrained him. The flesh of his shaft strained painfully against the bars of his cage, the tip already drooling enough pre-cum to smear on your palm and pool on the floor in between his legs. The poor thing looked nearly suffocated – pale and ever so slightly discolored, sensitive enough to twitch and send a rough shudder up the length of Satan’s spine as you ran your thumb over what little of the underside remained exposed. He only had himself to blame, really. If he’d only swallowed his pride and come to you earlier, he wouldn’t need your help so badly now.

He wouldn’t need to prove that he deserved your help, after ignoring you for so many weeks.

“Poor baby,” you half-cooed, taking his face in your hands and pressing a lingering kiss into his forehead. “I should’ve known you wouldn’t be able to take something so difficult so soon. I’m sorry for making you suffer, like this.”

Immediately, you felt him stiffen. You could only hope it was a habit he’d never grow out of. You couldn’t imagine a version of Satan who was driven by anything other than the ongoing, everlasting need to prove himself and, when that failed, tear down everything that could claim he hadn’t. “I’m fine,” he said, as if he hadn’t been on the verge of tears only a second ago. “I could take this and more, if I needed to. It’s just— you said I would need to find you, eventually, and I wanted to get it over with before—”

“That’s enough.” You were sure he would’ve gone on for the next century if you let him, but you weren’t really interested in what he had to say. Not while he was so put-together, at least. “Do you want my help or not?”

He might’ve been a bad liar, but to his credit, he wasn’t delusional. Shakily, he nodded, keeping his lips pursed and his eyes pleading.

“Is that all you’re going to give me to work with?”

“…please.” He was more hesitant than he’d been the first time, but not quite so acidic, not quite so aggressive. He was begging, now, and you could never seem to turn away those in-need. “I’ll do anything.”

You sighed, the gesture airy and drawn-out. Eventually, when it seemed like his already-tenuous patience was starting to thin, you let your touch fall away from him altogether. “Why don’t you get on your knees?”

His expression fell – not so much disappointed as he was confused. “How will that—”

“I have other things to do tonight.” An expectant smile, a nod towards the floor. “I can’t help me if you don’t help me too, Satan.”

The weight of his given name seemed to do the trick. Slowly, his movements stilted and reluctant, he lowered himself onto his knees, his eyes quickly falling away from yours and find a home in his lap. You were glad you’d chosen to wear what you had – making quick work of the sashing binding your robes together and discarding your panties while Satan watched out of the corner of his eye, too embarrassed to stare but too curious not to look. You were tempted to take him by the hair, to find something to wrap around his neck and pull it tighter and tighter until he was exactly where you wanted him to be, but you couldn’t let yourself be so selfish. You couldn’t let yourself forget to take care of him – even if you could justify putting it off until he’d taken care of you.

With little warning, you brought up a foot and ground the toe of your heeled shoe into the shaft of his caged cock. He hissed, throwing his head forward and shrinking into himself, shrinking against you; his chest pressing into your thigh as he bucked mindlessly against your foot, the lewd act coming to him more naturally than you ever could’ve dreamed. Now, you raked your fingers through his hair, jerking him upward and guiding his mouth to your cunt. His eyes widened, a surprised grunt slipping out of some vulnerable pocket of his chest, but you held him in place. “Remember what I showed you last time?”

He hesitated, but not for very long. There was a slight lapse, a pause as he tried to bridge the gap between your anatomy and his, but after a moment of scraping your dull nails over his scalp, of grinning down at him with as much love and patience as you could muster, he let his eyes fall shut and opened his mouth, his tongue darting part his lips and lapping tentatively over your slit. His next swipe was a touch more confident, and the same went for the one after that, and the one after that. A slight groan bubbled up from the base of his throat, his hands coming to rest on your thighs – his curved talons biting shallowly into your skin. You embraced the spark of pain without complaint. As if you had the heart to interrupt such a valuable learning moment.

It was slow work – as sloppy as it was messy, his enthusiasm barely managing to overshadow his inexperience. You couldn’t tell how much of it was on purpose, if he meant to grind the bridge of his nose against your clit, if there was any rhyme or rhythm to how he drew his tongue over your entrance, but it was savage enough, animalistic enough to draw a shallow moan from your lips, to earn the flattened edge of your heel ground against his cock. It took ages for his tongue to slip into you, the tapered point curling and probing against the walls of your cunt. He was lucky to have been born such a rabid creature, to have been gifted such a pretty face. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be worth a minute of your time.

It was a good effort, but it wasn’t enough. With a sharp jerk to his hair, you pulled him away from you and threw him to the ground, his pointed talons leaving a row of raised skin in their wake. With a startled expression and a fog over his eyes, he blinked up at you, barely bothering to try and push himself up before you brought your heel down on his chest and pushed him flush against the floor. “Stay down.” You flashed him a smile, trying to pretend you meant for it to be comforting. “Don’t you trust me?”

He didn’t answer. You didn’t wait for him to, shedding your robes completely and straddling his waist. His prep work had been… minimalistic, to put it kindly, but you’d never been one to back down from a challenge. You met his eyes, holding his half-lidded gaze as you wrapped your hand around his cock and pulled his cage away as easily as if it’d never been there at all.

You took slow, agonizing seconds to line him up with your entrance, rolling your hips to spread his precum over your slit. He let out a slight whimper, then managed to find his voice. “What… what are doing?”

“I think I’ve already told you about this one,” you said, your smile now genuine. “We’re going to make love, princess.”

In your own defense, you gave him a chance to protest, to complain, to throw you off of him and rejoin his brothers in the prince’s ballroom. You waited a second, then another, and when he failed to do anything more than stare up at you with that pleading expression, you lowered yourself onto him, only stopping when you were sure he’d bottomed out.

You were able to bite back your voice, but Satan wasn’t so skilled when it came to hiding his reactions. His body went stiff underneath yours, his eyes falling shut as a sinful moan trickled past his lips. You heard his breath hitch, felt his cock twitch, and then he was coming undone inside of you, likely marking the first time he’d cum inside of anyone, because of anything but your mouth. You couldn’t help but laugh, drinking in his fractured whines as you started moving, rolling your hips and grinding against him, riding him properly – not that he’d know the difference. “S-stop,” he managed, though little pained noises and blissful gasps. “It— It hurts—”

Overstimulation, clearly. It was amazing, how sensitive a demon so ferocious could be. “You’ll like it once you calm down. Just try to tough it out for me, alright?” With one hand on his chest, you let the other slip between your legs and to your clit, sorely neglected by his earlier guesswork. “I’ve made you cum… how many times now? Twice? I think I get to take a little something for myself.”

If he was capable of responding, he didn’t seem to think it was worth the effort. Instead, he only collapsed underneath you, his talons scraping against the stone floor and his point fangs biting at his own lips while you used his cock as your own, personal toy; as something to be played with but otherwise left on the outskirts of your consideration. While he might’ve been willing to fuck anything you put in front of him, you held yourself to higher standards, seeking out whatever made heat pool in your core and that aching knot in the pit of your stomach draw itself that much tighter with a refined sense of determination. You’d known how pretty he was, but there was a different kind of beauty to the way he looked writhing below you, to the pitiful sounds he made every time you clenched around him or moved in a way that threatened to milk his cock – still hard, despite his whining, still needy – dry. It was clumsy, little more than reflex winning over dower rationality, but he tried to move his hips in time with yours, to seek out the heat of your cunt whenever you threatened to pull away and abandon him completely. Not that you were going to. As pathetic as his sensitivity was, you weren’t much better – the anticipation you’d built up in his absence more than enough to make up for his inexperience. Your climax rolled over you in thick, lethargic waves, dimming the edges of your vision and pulling a raspy, vaguely humored gasp from somewhere deep in your chest. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. You’d make him keep going until he gave you something better, next time.

Tonight, though, you had better things to do than babysit. With a shallow inhale and a moment taken to compose yourself, you pulled away from him and pushed yourself to your feet. Satan let out a displeased growl, loud enough and deep enough to rattle off the walls of the storage closet, but you shut him up quickly, pressing the sole of your boot into his shaft and rocking with just enough force to leave him spilling ropes of thick, ivory cum on his stomach, the evidence of his depravity left splattered against the pale skin of his midriff and the dark leather of your shoes. He moved to grab your ankle, to keep you that much closer to him for that much longer, but you pulled back, straightening yourself and shrugging your robes back on while Satan watched you, his eyes glassy and his fangs bared. “Maybe, next time, you’ll be able to take the lead,” you wondered aloud, then laughed. “Wouldn’t count on it, though. I think you’re cuter when you don’t have to think for yourself.”

You could still feel his eyes burning into you as you slipped back into the castle.

He started asking you to meet him in the House of Lamentation, after that. You told him you didn’t have a problem with empty classrooms and storage closets, but he insisted. You weren’t surprised. Just as he was learning that he would have to be well-behaved for you, you were starting to realize that you’d have to be gentler than anticipated with him.

That’s what you were doing now – being gentle. The collar wrapped around his neck was loose and lightweight, the leash that connected his throat to your hand allowed to fall lax for the moment, at least until the next time he did something that you would need to. You’d even let him take charge, laying back while he buried his face between your thighs, a skill he was eager to hone after you admitted his natural talent left more than a little to be desired. He was making progress, too. He’d learned to bite back his pride while he lapped over your cunt and pushed aimless patterns into your clit, spurred on by every twitch and moan he could draw out of you. There was a pillow between his legs, something soft and pliable he could grind against while he took care of you, but the thin golden ring sitting at the base of his cock made sure he wouldn’t have his fun before you had yours. This one wasn’t enchanted (you’d been tempted, but magic could be fickle and you didn’t want to bring an arcane locksmith into your time with him), but it worked well enough, and he’d never really gotten the hang of taking care of himself. To be fair, that was something he didn’t have to learn. He had you to dote on him, and you weren’t going anywhere. Not for a few hours, at least.

His hand curled around your hips, spreading you open further as the tapered end of his tongue lavished your clit, his drool mixing with your slick and staining the inside of your thighs. You let your eyes fall shut, using your legs to pull him closer as you bucked into his mouth and used his tongue to nurse yourself through your climax, only letting him go when the first pangs of overstimulation began to set in. Even without your encouragement, he didn’t go far. You felt the mattress shift, sensed his body on top of yours, and then, his mouth was crashing into your own, his kiss all teeth and tongue and violent lust. Within seconds, you could taste your blood on his lips, make out the little, airy noises only partially muffled by your connection. You could—

Your fist was crashing into his cheek before you had time to think, to stop yourself. Your knuckles caught his jaw with enough force to pry him off of you and leave him on the floor, still sitting up but visibly folded into himself. You cursed under your breath, your eyes only flitting to the door once before you lowered yourself to the ground beside him. There was a half-hearted snarl, but it died in his throat as soon as you were close enough to cup his cheek. You let out a softened coo as you pulled him close, pressing a fleeting kiss into his forehead. “Ah, I know, I know.” Another kiss, this one to the bruise forming along his jaw. Your remorse, although left mostly unspoken, was genuine. Anyone would’ve mourned leaving a mark on such a beautiful face. “Are you hurt?”

“As if something like that would affect an Avatar.”

As sharp-tongued as he was defensive. You were thankful for his ego-serving tendencies in this moment more than most. With an airy laugh, you strung your arms over his shoulders and let him bury his face in the dip of your shoulder. “Just don’t surprise me like that again, alright?” And then, after he managed to nod, “I know you’re strong enough to take it, but it’d break my heart to see you get hurt. Because of something so trivial, especially.”

When he didn’t pull away, didn’t respond at all, you sighed. “Do you have anything to say to me?”

It was little more than a mumble, spoke just under his breath. “Thank you,” he paused, melted that much further into you, “for taking care of me.”

“Good boy.”

You left a few minutes later, dressed in one of his shirts and little else. For your own peace of mind, you decided not to think about how long it’d been since you’d seen him bury his teeth in anything aside from you.

Honestly, it’d been weeks since you’d seen his fangs at all.

You’d had this problem before. Ever the romantic, your idle mind tended to linger on what couldn’t be reclaimed, to drive you towards the pursuit of wild beauty despite knowing that truly untamed things couldn’t be found twice, let alone a few times a week, whenever the careful surveillance of his brothers lapsed and Satan could seek you out like some mangy, prowling predator, spurred on by the promise of relief. Really, you would’ve given up on him after that first encounter, after he failed to sink his claws into your neck, or—

A ragged grunt drew you out of your thoughts and back into the present moment, back to Satan where he hovered above you. You were in some shadowed tunnel of the catacombs underneath the House of Lamentation, tonight, and you’d been kind enough to let him take charge, to keep your thighs wrapped around his waist as he fucked into you like a trained mutt, rather than the wild animal you were looking for. The stone of the altar he’d laid you over was cool against your skin, his horns pleasantly calloused where your hands were wrapped around them, and yet, your mind still wandered, the feeling of his cock beating against the walls of your cunt numbed by your lack of interest. Satan was less unaffected, his eyes clenching shut as he buckled against you, burying his face in your chest as he pushed open-mouthed kisses into whatever he could reach. It was sickening, the thought that he might’ve wanted you to return such tender affection. It was sickening, the thought that he could be capable of being so banal.

His hips crashed into yours, and you felt his lips turn upward, his cock twitch inside of you. “I think—” A pitchy whine, a half-swallowed whimper. “I think I’m in love with you.”

God. You might’ve been starting to hate him.

You let your hands fall to his shoulders. “Down, boy.”

He shook his head, too lost in his own bliss to listen to you. You scowled, shoving lightly at his chest, attempting more to get his attention than to force him off of you. “Down. Unless you want me to assume you’ve forgotten how to be obedient.”

“I—I love you,” he repeated, and then again, “I love you.” One of your legs was forced over his shoulder, his chest pressed almost flush to yours – bending you in half in a way that would’ve been painful, if you’d been anyone else. You let out a throaty growl, marking the first time you’d stopped to his level, but Satan didn’t hesitate, didn’t relent, only bowing his head and letting his rhythm deteriorate into something less calculated, less taught. You would’ve been pleased, if you hadn’t been so angry with him. “We— We’re going to be together, and you’re going to be mine, and I’m going to be—”

You could see tears running down his cheeks, hear his voice shake from something entirely separate from pleasure or desperation. You cursed under your breath, dragging your nails down the length of his spine and clawing at his back with enough force to break the skin, but he didn’t seem to notice, didn’t seem to mind, to care, to notice.“I’ll be yours.” He sounded so pathetically determined, as he thought it would come true if he only spoke loudly enough, if he only fucked you desperately enough. He probably did. You’d never taught him any better, and you weren’t sure he had anyone else who would even know to try. “I’ll only be yours.”

You were struggling, now, thrashing underneath him, but he was still an Avatar, still ranks above any station you would ever be able to reach. He held you in a bone-crushing, heart-wrenching embrace; close enough for you to feel his heart beating through his chest, to pick up on the half-muffled sobs catching in his throat. He only pulled away to bring one of his hands up to your jaw, to hold you in place while he pressed his lips against yours in a kiss so soft and so gentle, you would’ve been tempted to call it loving had it not been so vile.

By the time he drew back, he was smiling, and you couldn’t seem to remember why you’d ever thought he could be anything but hideous.

“And you’ll never have to leave again.”

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citrus-cinnamon · 11 months

Text

MANOR LIBRARY OF THE TWISTED

♡ SECTION: MAFIA AU [TW: DARK CONTENT]

OVERVIEW

"DELIVER" | GN!READER | YANDERE

— PT.ONE

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♡ SECTION: MOULIN ROUGE AU

PROLOGUE

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♡ SECTION: VAMPIRE AU

OVERVIEW

GIVING AND DRINKING BLOOD

NBC

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♡ SECTION: ASYLUM AU

INFO

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♡ SECTION: HOST CLUB AU

OVERVIEW

Host Vil, Host Epel, Host Riddle

Host Idia, Host Idia #2, Host Jade n Floyd

Host Rook

Hosts-In-Training Deuce and Ace

Host Jealousy, Host Yuu/Reader

══════ ♡ ══════

♡ SECTION: SELF-AWARE AU

…no books currently….

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♡ SECTION: ANDROID AU

OVERVIEW

WHAT IS ORTHO

ANDROIDS N' SENTIENT

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♡ SECTION: ZOMBIE AU [TW: DARK CONTENT]

OVERVIEW

AU QUESTIONS

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♡ SECTION: RENT-A-GIRLFRIEND

OVERVIEW

POLY RELATIONSHIPS

REVERSAL

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♡ SECTION: BIKER GANG AU

…no books currently….

══════ ♡ ══════

♡ SECTION: DEMON AU [TW: DARK CONTENT]

OVERVIEW

HALF DEMON SEBEK

"DIVINE NOR FORSAKEN" | YANDERE | MULTI-CHARACTER

— [FEM!READER] CH.ONE, CH.TWO

— [MALE!READER] CH.ONE, CH.TWO

— [GN!READER] CH.ONE

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♡SECTION: SACRIFICIAL PRINCESS AND KING OF BEASTS AU

AU IDEA

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citrus-cinnamon · 11 months

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“My Wingless Dove”

| Repost: 02.19.2023 | 1.2K | Mature Audiences |

Yandere!Diasomnia X GN!Reader [TWST: VAMPIRE AU]

Book.Summary: Dont walk into abandoned homes, even if the weather is bad, for there may be vampires living there that just love humans.

You’re pretty.

So pretty that it worries us to death when you come barreling into our home, fumbling through the door with heaving breaths, pounding heart, and rushing veins, so loud and so full of life. You kick the door closed desperately, blindly throwing yourself deep into the dark and what you assume—abandoned—home.

You’re far too pretty to live in such fear.

You make a home for yourself, using the old dusty library as yours, what we wish would be your forever home. Using broken floorboards as wood. Though you aren’t fully aware of our presence, that’s alright. You don’t need to worry about the peering, deep reddish-magenta glowing eyes that watch you from afar. Eyes that you swear you see as you prepare your dinner. Or as you sleep, gentle touches of flesh brush against the apple of your cheeks, or the exposed chest of your collarbone.

Don’t worry about the glaring eyes that watch you from afar as you search the forest for your food, silently protecting you. Do not worry when you see green eyes and that of a tall silhouette watching you from the far corners, only for you to blink and it’s gone. You’re pretty. They only want to admire you.

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The deep red eyes are first to greet you.

First to catch your attention. First to frighten you. Even if he doesn’t mean to., you’re just too cute, such a sweet, defenseless person, living amongst four beings that are far stronger, faster, hungrier. Far more than you could ever be. You’re fascinating and he lets you know of his existence. He wants you to know he’s around, devoted to you, as he is the prince.

You have dreams of a soft, monotone voice.

Hearing him whisper to you to sleep well, to have pleasant dreams. He is the one you should trust most, the one who understands you the most. Even though mortality is so from him. That’s alright, you are simply a glimpse of what he once was, and he adores you for that. You represent that part of him that was once human.

The glare from afar still scorns you.

He makes you feel unwanted, unneeded, foreign—an intruder. Well, in a way, you are. You stumble into their home, into the home of the prince, and make it your little hovel. He’s annoyed, disgusted, for you represent the side of him that will always be human. That will never change. He hates that about you, yet he can’t find it in his unbeating heart to allow any harm to come to you. Maybe he isn’t as detached from humanity as he claims.

The tall silhouette that scares you still.

He wishes you didn’t fear him. He wishes you’d simply waltz into his arms, sway gently against him and with him. He craves for you to step into the shadow to see him and acknowledge him for being safe, to see that he wouldn't harm you. He cares for you as a lover would. Even if you don’t love him yet, you will. Eventually, you will. As all things take time and you, darling, will have all the time in the world.

══════ ♡ ══════

“If I could simply stop time in this moment—without having to change not a single part of you—I truly wish I could.”

His words are merely wind to air as you sleep, blissful and unaware. You are as if the sun had been given for him to hold and cherish, a blessing, a gift. So strong, yet so destructive. So painful for he knows if he touches you, he melts. Burns. He’s alright with that.

You had in passing, talking to the ancient pictures on the walls of your soon departure. Something that Malleus can't bear to stand. You can’t go free of them. Of him. Not now. Nor ever. For he knows like a flower that only blooms once within its lifetime, would soon disappear. He refuses. You will be there for his lifetime, all his lifetimes. He wants nothing more.

“My Prince... what is it you desire?”

You.

The answer is you.

You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You.

It will always be you.

You spilled your blood today as you explored the vast forests. Bring them each nearly to their knees, salivating desperately. Like a flavor that they knew not of, yet still yearned for centuries. Surely, you’d indulge them. Silver gently lowers your form onto the massive bed, treating you so delicately, like glass.

You should feel so loved. So wanted. Even when you awaken and you thrash against Sebek’s tight embrace, cursing him—begging him to release you, pleading with him to let you go. As Lilia forces your mouth open to feed you, as you kick and scream.

You will come to understand our love.

As Silver nearly suffocated you in his chest, rocking you slowly as Malleus reads fairytale stories to you.

You’ll get over how cruel I am. As I read, you tales of freedom, or escape, of adventures, that you could never go on.

“You’ll understand why I did what I did, my little wingless dove.”

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citrus-cinnamon · 11 months

Text

𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐁𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐀𝐔

[Pt1] [Pt2] [Pt3] [Pt4] [Pt5] [Pt6] [Pt7] [Pt8] [Pt9] [Pt10] [Pt11] [Pt12] [Pt13] [Pt14]

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citrus-cinnamon · 1 year

Note

How about Poly Switch! AU, Yandere Human brothers with Demon MC? I interested having yandere brothers call to the Devildom and MC have to take care of them

Rating: Teen and Up

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: Gen

Fandom: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!

Characters: Main Character, Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, Belphegor

Additional Tags: Human brothers, Demon MC, very very mild yandere, GN!MC

A/N: let it be known that in this switch, I think angels become reapers and the non-brother demons are angels. I didn’t finish it because my brain was like “if you write another paragraph this will never be done”. Thanks unfinished fics. Love you.

Word Count: 1208

Solomon, a duke of the Devildom, was known for his strange inclination for forming pacts with humans despite his station. He already had 72 over the years, an incredibly large number even when considering his age. His only issue was that he sometimes found his pact holders to be… less than ideal. He never made a pact haphazardly, but he also knew they could be better. That’s when he had the brilliant idea to invite one of his current pact holders to the Devildom so they could learn just how a demon’s powers worked. It was only happenstance that they apparently ended up asking their siblings to come along. It seems they didn’t believe he made a pact with a demon and required proof. Skeptics were the worst.

As it stood, you and Solomon were currently waiting for the gaggle of siblings to show up. The only issue was just how late they were running.

“You know, Lord Solomon, I appreciate that you think enough of me to greet your very important guests, but I would also appreciate it if they would bother to be here on time," you say with venom in your tone and a smile on your face.

He laughs flippantly at your remark. "They were supposed to be here a few minutes ago. Ah, did I perhaps open a portal to the wrong place?"

"If that's the case, please fix your error before you start an interdimensional incident. Seven humans going missing is a very large amount for your first foray into diplomatic relations."

"You worry too much. I'm sure they're probably alright."

"...you know I heard that probably, right?"

He claps his hands together. "Enough of that, let's bring them here now, shall we."

"You should have done that seven minutes ago, My Lord." These humans are going to be dead on arrival, you can sense it.

Solomon waves you off without concern, refocusing his attention on trying to welcome his guests like he is supposed to. You don’t feel any relief until you see it open in front of you and seven people step through one after another. Truthfully, they barely looked like siblings. Adopted perhaps? The point is that they were here now.

Solomon greeted them warmingly, showing extra affection(?) to the human who clearly held his pact before they returned the favor by introducing themselves (as stubborn as some of them were about it). What you were interested in, however, was that one of them – Lucifer – was clearly a sorcerer. If that was the case, why was it so hard to believe in demons and pacts? Clearly, there was something strange about this situation.

“It’s wonderful to meet Asmo’s siblings.” Solomon smiles, but it’s so forced that you worry for his muscles. “My name is Solomon and I will be your host for the duration of your stay.” He turns to you. “And this is-”

“I’m his advisor,” you interrupt.

“They’re my friend.”

“Only under duress, My Lord,” you say with a smile plastered on your face.

He continues as if you said nothing at all, “They’ll be showing you around today. I would do it myself but-”

“If you cancel your meeting with the prince again and leave me to deal with their ire, I will string you up by your tail.”

“And that’s why they’ll be showing you around in my stead.”

“But, Solomon,” one of the humans - the one with champagne hair and honey eyes - whines as he practically throws himself into Solomon’s arms, “when will you have time for me?”

Solomon grabs him under the arms and stands him up properly. “Later. I have you all scheduled for dinner tonight.”

“He doesn’t mean that to sound like he’ll be eating you. It’s a four-course meal meant to introduce you to the local cuisine.”

Right on cue, a loud rumbling was heard from the stomach of the tallest human. “Sorry,” he apologizes, knowing everyone had heard.

“On second thought, maybe it would be best to find you all a meal first.”

“He’s always like that,” another says with a tired voice.

“I… see.” How oddly inhuman.

It was fine. What harm could a few hours of hunger really cause? You only want to show them around so they can find their way during their stay. It’s not that hard to wait for a meal. You hope.

You bowed to them, welcoming them as guests of Lord Solomon before leading the way to show them around the Devildom. They were well behaved, for the most part. Mammon has a mouth on him if ever you’d heard one. The hungry one is pretty quiet, seeming distressed by his stomach the entire time. Despite those two, however, everyone is rather attentive as you show them around. They are very transfixed on you, as you find. You almost want to praise them for how eager they are to learn about the Devildom.

Until one of them asks about pacts. He says something about shows filled with deals with the devil and asks if making one would give him cool powers. How are you supposed to answer such a question?

"You are, of course, free to make pacts at your leisure. Lord Solomon himself is fond of them, as I'm sure Mr. Asmodeus can attest to." It’s the best answer you can give.

Asmodeus winces. "Oh please. Calling me mister makes me sound so old."

"My point is that you may find yourself making pacts with demons eventually. Although, I advise using caution because many will attempt to overcharge you for the privilege. Just be aware that your soul is not the only form of payment you can offer. Anything of value to the demon in question will work. All that matters is that you both accept the terms of the pact. What they can offer you in exchange may vary from demon to demon."

"We're here on diplomatic exchange. Making pacts with reckless abandon is not part of that." The oldest one – Lucifer, you believe his name was – says.

"I'm merely pointing out that it's an option. Your brother already has one, after all.”

“Asmodeus is special.”

“He’s special alright,” the one with white hair – Mammon – jeers. “He somehow got us sent to hell.”

“The Devildom,” Satan corrects. “It’s different than hell.”

“Yeah, right. Whatever.”

Ah, that was interesting. Satan clearly wasn’t the sorcerer in the family yet he knew what the Devildom was? There were a few inconsistencies forming in their story. Or, maybe you were overthinking it. It just seemed strange…

“Maybe some of us are interested in pacts,” Belphie says. “Asmo seems happy with his, so it wouldn’t hurt.” The smile on his face made you shiver. You couldn’t place why a human made you feel that way, but he did. “I wouldn’t mind forming a pact, but you’re the only demon I know. Would you want to?”

“Belphie!” Lucifer chided him.

You clear your throat before you answer him uneasily. “I don’t have an interest in making any pacts. I’m here to help guide you, nothing more.”

“Unfortunate.” He sounds disappointed in a way that makes you feel like you’re being stabbed with needles.

What was going on with them? They were just simple humans… weren’t they?

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citrus-cinnamon · 1 year

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Eyes in the Dark - The Stalker AU

***Happy Spooky Season my friends! This fic came to me in the middle of class and I immediately started scribbling down ideas for it. It's dark. It's eerie. It's a horror fic. I hope you all enjoy it! 🥰 -B ***

Summary: MC never went to the Devildom, but that doesn't stop the brothers from finding the last piece of Lilith in existence.

CW: Yandere behaviour, stalking, paranoia, explicit kidnapping/breaking and entering

You couldn't put your finger on it, but lately, your life had gotten weird.

Normally, you wouldn't say there was any particularly special about your day-to-day. You worked in a cafe a couple blocks from your apartment that you would bike to every morning. You'd greet the cafe cat, Jinx, and serve the customers with (some) ease. From there, you'd go home after closing, wash up, relax for a bit, go to bed, rinse and repeat.

In your years of living on your own in the city, nothing had ever changed or offset that routine. Honestly you were satisfied enough that you didn't think anything ever would, and yet ...

A crow cawed from the rooftops above you as autumn leaves skittered across your feet and the bike rack.

That was the first thing — for the past month there had been at least one crow everywhere you went.

They didn't do much. They just sat from a distance, never getting closer than 15 feet from you, and watched.

They watched as you washed the dishes, as you locked up your bike, as you brushed your teeth, as you cleaned the pastry display at work.

You shook your head at the bird and made your way into the cafe.

Where ever you went, these crows always followed.

It was daunting. Eerie even.

But what could you do? Nature was weird sometimes.

Opening up, at this point, was a second nature to you — wipe down the tables, run the machines, put out the baked goods. It was simple.

Any tension that the crows had brought onto you eased as you slipped into the familiar actions of your work. Hours quickly passed by as your regular morning customers came and went.

Eventually, noon hit, and you got to work preparing what was always your biggest order of the day.

The cafe's bell rang as you as packaged the last of the pastries.

"Hi," a soft voice spoke behind you.

You glanced over and smiled at the familiar ginger, towering awkwardly over the cash register. You smiled brightly as you gathered the multiple bags of baked goods and carried them over. "Hello, Beel! I got your order here for you. Seven cupcakes, three croissants, half a dozen cookies, a scone, and-" you reached back behind you and cheerfully set down a cup beside the bags, "one extra large mocha with extra chocolate and extra whip cream."

His amethyst eyes widened as he gaped at the bags. "Y-You ... You remembered my order?"

You huffed playfully and crossed your arms over your chest. "What kind of a barista do you think I am? You've been coming here every day with the same order for the past month. At this point, we make an extra batch of everything just for you. Of course, I know your order. It'd be kind of hard to forget."

His cheeks rouged as he bashfully nodded his head. "Right. But it means a lot. For you to take note, I mean."

You chuckled, "I'm just doing my job. Your total is $60.66 by the way."

"Same as always," he joked, tapping a golden card against the credit machine. He tilted his head, staring at you as he began collecting his bags in his arms. "Are you alright? You look a little tired today?"

You tried to maintain your professional, customer service smile as you shrugged. "Just work and other things."

He hummed and nodded his head towards one of the many empty tables. "Want to sit and talk about it? There's no one else here and I could use some help getting through all of this," he lifted the arm-load of food a little higher up.

A quick glance at the clock, and you were shaking your head. "Sorry. My lunch break isn't for a while yet. Besides I've seen you devour the entirety of your order on your own with no issue before. Honestly, I don't know how you do it."

"You'd be surprised," he smiled tenderly down at you. "But I was being serious. No one will even notice. You can step back behind the cash the second another customer comes in, I promise. Just sit and talk for a bit."

You knew you shouldn't have, but Beel had been nothing but sweet to you since coming to the cafe, and it really would be nice to hear someone else's opinion on everything that had been happening.

"Okay," Beel's eyes dazzled as he lead you over to a table by the window.

A crow sat on the other side of the glass. You frowned at the bird for a moment before taking your seat.

Beel's smile only grew bigger as he passed you a cupcake and took a sip from his mocha. "Here. Red velvet is your favourite, right?"

You hesitated as you took the dessert from him. "Yeah. Always has been. How did you know that?"

Beel merely looked at you with that tender expression he seemed so keen towards and shrugged, "Lucky guess. You said work and stuff was bothering you. What's stuff?"

You unconsciously side-eyed the crow to right, only to find the creature already staring at you. You couldn't fight off the shiver that ran down your spine as you turned your attention back to your best-paying customer.

"Well," you began, "There's been a few weird things."

Beel paused mid-bite as his previously delighted expression suddenly became concerned. "Weird things? Are you alright?"

You waved off his worry as you took a bite of your own dessert. "It's probably nothing. But I've been on edge lately and I keep either losing things in my house or find them not at all like I remembered," you lean forward, feeling the words that you hadn't allowed yourself to speak out loud finally spill from your mouth. "Like my body spray. It keeps vanishing! I'll buy a new bottle, and I'll use it for a few days and then suddenly fwoosh! Gone!"

The ginger narrowed his eyebrows. "Is it possible you just misplaced it?" he questioned around a mouthful of cake.

"Four times in one month?" You easily shot back. "And that's not all! I have always made my bed in the morning, but lately I've been coming home and the blankets are just a little more ruffled than I remember, and even if I've just washed the bedding, it always smells used, you know? Like someone has been laying in it all day!"

CAW!!!

You jumped to your feet as the crow beside the window screeched and jumped around a little. "And the crows! The stupid crows! They've been following me everywhere, and I think they've been leaving notes and books on my doorstep, or at least someone has!"

"MC."

"What?!" You snapped as you spun around. You froze as Beel looked at you in pity and your words crashed back into you. You scrambled to your feet. "I am so so sorry. I don't know what came over me. I shouldn't have put that all on you or shouted at you like that. Christ, you probably think I'm insane."

Beel quickly rose to meet you. "Hey, hey. Don't talk like that. It's alright."

"You're my customer," you wallowed. "This was horribly inappropriate. I'm sorry. I ... I have to get back to my shift," without another word you rushed to the back room.

You were completely oblivious to the glare that Beelzebub was giving the crow.

You were slightly dazed for the rest of your shift. There wasn't nearly as much conversation between you and your customers as you served them, and eventually, your boss decided to let you leave early.

The bike ride home was as eerie as the bike ride there — only this time it was because the ever-present crows were now missing entirely. It left a tightness in your core that you couldn't shake, an unease that clung to your very soul.

Maybe it was because, even without the crows there, you could still feel the cold, sensation of eyes following you.

You finally made it back to your small apartment, and you quite honestly, couldn't wait to lock all your doors and windows and just fall asleep. Today had been long. And tiring. And weird. And-

Your door creaked open as you flicked the lock and a strange puddle laid in front of you.

Breath caught in your lungs and your heart froze. You took a cautionary glance around your surroundings — there was no one else in the hallway with you and, from a first look, your apartment was empty, and yet there was a trail of wet footprints that you definitely hadn't left there leading deeper into your apartment.

With a trembling hand, you reached over and grabbed the umbrella sitting by your doorway and held it like a sword.

Each of your careful steps echoed loudly throughout your lone, single apartment, regardless of how quietly you moved. With your heart threatening to jump out of your chest, you slowly followed the steps to the bathroom.

SLAM!

You threateningly held your umbrella out in front of you as you kicked the bathroom door open — empty.

You couldn't help but laugh, a small manic laugh, as you looked around yourself once more. It was nothing. Just like the bed. And the perfume. And the crows. And the eyes. And the books. It was nothing.

Were you going crazy? It certainly felt like it.

All these little things had completely uprooted your peaceful happy life and thrown it into haywire. And yet, there was no evidence to prove these things to be true.

On weak legs, you forced yourself to further inspect the bathroom. There was a strange lingering scent — almost like sea water — but nothing appeared to be missing.

As your eyes scanned over the tub, they doubled back near the drain. You narrowed your eyebrows as kneeled down to get a closer look.

There was a short blue hair, that most certainly didn't belong to you, resting there.

Your hand came up to cover your mouth as you stumbled away.

Someone was here. That had to proof of that right? Someone had come into your house while you were gone. You weren't crazy. There was actually someone-

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

You yelped, jumping as you whirred around and slashed at the air with your umbrella.

Your eyes fell towards your entrance way — the source of the knock.

You swallowed thickly, taking a deep calming breath and tightening your grip on the umbrella before making your way over to your door.

You stood in front of it for one, two minutes. Waiting to see if the person would knock again.

Nothing.

Goosebumps rose on your skin as you peered through your peep hole and once again, nothing.

Your trembling hand came to rest on the door knob. "It was probably just someone pulling a prank," you mumbled to yourself. "O-Or maybe it was a package."

Regret was already pooling inside your heart as you twisted the doorknob and pulled it open.

A tall man in a black suit with midnight hair and blood red eyes stood not less than two feet from you.

A high shrill burst passed your lips as you tried to slam the door shut, but the man moved with almost unnatural speed and quickly blocked the attempt.

His crimson eyes glittered down at you as he smiled. "Now, that's no way to treat a guest, MC."

Rather than responding to him, you brought your umbrella down as hard as you could onto his head.

A grunt echoed behind you as your bolted for your room, quickly shutting and locking the door behind you. You wasted no time, and began dragging your dresser and desk to block off the door as the sound of the man's loud footsteps came closer and closer and-

A man with navy and white hair sat groggily in your bed. His amethyst eyes, so similar to Beel's, widened as they met yours. "Shit," he cursed. "You're home."

"Urgh, what's with all the noise?"

A wave of paralyzation hit you as another strange voice yawned behind you. Tears of pure, concentrated fear lined your eyes as you silently shook your head and turned around.

Before you could say a word, splinters of wood exploded from behind you as your door was easily kicked in and the furniture thrown aside.

The sleeping creep quickly clutched onto you and yanked you away from the destruction. He curled himself around you, almost as though he was trying to protect you from the danger happening in your own house.

"Devils and gods, Lucifer! Watch it! You could've hurt them!"

"If I remember correctly, Belphegor, you're supposed to be long gone by now."

You instantly tried to rip yourself from Belphegor's grasp only for him to tighten his hold around you. "Easy. Easy. You're going to hurt yourself. Just relax," he cooed as he ran a hand over your head.

Your heart stopped as their words registered within your horror-riddled mind.

They knew each other.

A strange wave of drowsiness washed over you and you felt your heart plummet further and further.

Belphegor chuckled as tears finally slipped from your eyes. "I can see what Beel was talking about. They're even cuter in person. Like a scared little bunny."

Lucifer hummed as he tilted his head at the pair of you. "Yes. I suppose they are."

You sob as you weakly kicked and scratched at the arms holding you, but they held no affect. The drowsiness clouding your brain only grew thicker and thicker with every hit.

"Please," you whimpered as you strained in the man's hold. "Leave me alone. L-Let me go."

"After all the trouble we went to find you?" Gloved fingers gently tilted your chin upwards and forced your eyes to lock with the tall man — He filled every inch of your vision as he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your forehead. "It was already lucky enough that we even found out about your existence. You — a descendent of Lilith," the arms holding you tightened at the name. "But here you are."

You could feel Belphegor nuzzle his face into your hair. "And when we saw you, it was so strange. You are not Lilith at all. You look nothing like her, and you're so very different. You're almost better than her," he sighed in contentment. "I can't wait for you to be home with us."

You felt your eyelids grow heavier and heavier as the world around you began to blur. The last thing you saw was Lucifer smiling at you. "It seems you won't have to wait much longer," he took you from Belphegor and lifted you into his own arms just as your consciousness finally began to fade.

"Goodnight, MC. When you wake, you'll be in your new home."

***I have discovered that I actually love writing this spooky stuff! It was so much fun! I hope you guys really enjoyed this! Thank you so much for the love and support!***

TAGLIST:

@thegrimgrinningghost @henry-and-the-seven-lords @satans-beloved-riv @cosmixbun @sufzku @obey-mes-treasure @kissed-by-a-dementor @yukihaie @justtiarra @mammoneybb @poly-bi-mf @burrixino @salvationprodigy @pumpkins-mainside-blog @acousticpen @sucker-for-angst-and-fluff @itskrispy @10paradox10 @vallison-rea @ivoryclive @newfangled-artistry @pumpkinpatchkid @chirikoheina @sailboat21 @theother4 @todoroses @circus-of-freaks @mcx7demonbros @bloopthebat

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citrus-cinnamon · 1 year

Text

not-so-secret late night rendezvous

pairing: malleus draconia x gn!mc

word count: 3K

summary: while the vdc group stays over at ramshackle, they notice you have a frequent visitor

notes from lee: i’m rusty with long pieces so i hope this is okay ish? takes place during book 5 when the vdc group is staying at the ramshackle dorm but i haven’t read book 5 since it released so it’s not entirely canon compliant… also way more ace-centric than i realized oops i love adeuce

You had abandoned the hope of falling asleep easily once Crowely oh-so graciously allowed the newly formed VDC group to take up temporary residence in Ramshackle. When either or both Ace and Deuce stayed over you could deal with their moderate snores, however, snoring amplified by the seven extra people staying in your dorm was disrupting to say the least.

Despite all the boys being the next room over, the snoring seeps through the rotting wood floors and poorly constructed walls.

In hopes of trying to tire yourself out, you decide on a midnight stroll. Something that has been a recurring event even before your visitors. And maybe you have an inkling of hope that there will be another visitor when you get outside.

You feel the need to be quiet and sneak out, hopeful to not incur the wrath of Vil despite you being the dorm leader of Ramshackle. The window in your room has provided many nights of escapes, but it still takes an effort to push it open enough for you to get out. It only takes a few steps across the patchy roof before reaching the fire ladder. When your feet hit the ground you can already see the green fireflies that swarm the area and it instantly puts a smile on your face.

If the others within the dorm were not up earlier from the scolding Vil had given them, they were more than awake at the footsteps on the roof. Of course, it could have been passed off as the ghosts, but the creak of the rusty ladder gives you away to those inside the house. A quick check into your bedroom proves that it’s you out of the dorm and not one of the VDC members. Vil is largely unconcerned, you are just a manager after all not a performing member, that is until Trappola calls out from the bottom floor.

“Oi! What’s Malleus Draconia doing outside?” Now this peaks Vil and the others upstairs’ interest. Already pressed to the glass window in the seating room are Ace and Deuce, the others join shortly.

“What is this fuss about Draconia being outside?” VIl questions and the redhead shivers at the tone of voice he uses. Instead of answering anything, Ace points outside to where you stand animatedly talking to the prince of Briar Valley. Everyone just now coming to witness the scene outside the window reacts similarly, shock. All inside the house knew of Draconia’s reputation, but there you were chatting away with him like an old friend.

Despite the seemingly friendly conversation between you and the fae, the way Malleus looked fondly down at you did not escape the watchful eyes of the Rook, “Quelle beauté! The love between the Roi des Dragons and the Trickster is blooming right before our eyes!”

The three first-years mashed into the glass pane let out a simultaneous groan. “How come the Prefect didn’t tell us they got into a relationship!” “Bleh who even wants to be in a relationship?” And similar remarks left the boys’ mouth, but soon quieted when they watched as you started back towards the dorm. Their blabbing had cost all of the bystanders to lose track of Malleus who had seemingly left.

“Back to the room. Not a word of this to the Prefect. It is up to them to tell us about their relationship, not your incessant meddling.” Vil sternly ordered and the boys trudged up the creaking stairs before you came back.

Despite what Vil may have told Ace and Deuce about not meddling, you were their friend! If anyone would be allowed to meddle it would be your best friends, no? At least that’s what Ace had convinced himself of and later Deuce despite his reluctance.

They have a momentary break in the grueling practice and that’s when Ace decides to pry. You sit near the sweaty boys and offer up bottles of water, but it feels mostly like moral support. “So Prefect, you’ve been here for quite a while now, so’s there someone you're crushing on?” Ace asks, trying to be nonchalant.

“Is this some roundabout way for me to ask you if there’s someone you like?” You laugh at the red-head when he turns as red as his hair in embarrassment. “I take that as a yes?”

“No!” He waves his hands and you laugh at him again. “What’s wrong with your best friends wanting to know something like that?” Ace nudged Deuce, making him the accomplice to this encounter.

Before Deuce can protest, the two of them are yanked up by their collars. “If the two of you have energy to move your mouths, I’m sure you have the energy to continue practice.”

You laugh at Ace once again and shout a wish of good luck at him and the innocent Deuce.

After the catastrophic failure of the afternoon, Ace decides to take a different route: asking Grim. Once again he makes an assumption that if anyone would know about your relationship it would be your friend (though Ace is unsure if Grim counts as a friend or a pet).

The cat-like creature seems to be asleep at the moment, but Ace’s curiosity is strong enough to be the one killed by the cat. He pokes Grim and he yawns. “Whatcha want that you needed ta wake the Great Grim up?”

“You know the Prefect better than anyone right?” Ace asked tentatively.

Grim rolls over, trying to get comfortable once again before answering, “Just ask my henchman yourself, there’s no need to bother me.”

Ace rolls his eyes but presses on, “Well if it’s your henchman you should know if something in their personal life would affect them serving you, yeah?”

Grim rolls over to face Ace once again, “What could they be doin except being my henchman?”

“Oh well, I heard something about them dating Malleus Draconia, but if it hasn’t been affecting anything then it’s probably not worth talking about.” Ace shrugs, but he knows that Grim is interested in helping him now. At least he thought so, but Grim fails to respond and Ace is met with soft snores.

Ace groans, yet another plan of his: failed.

You crawl into bed, hopeful that maybe tonight you can rest. Grim follows suit and snuggles up next to you. He talks to you about the homework and other classes from the day and it’s not unusual. After a period of silence, “You won’t stop being my henchmen, right?”

You ruffle the fur on Grims head and laugh softly, “What gave you that idea? We’re two halves of a whole, literally.”

Grim exclaims and moves away from the hand that pets him, “I knew you would never leave such a great mage such as myself! Ace told me about some dragon and I didn’t want you to think that you were able to have a new master.” He returns to your side and curls up next to you to fall asleep and says nothing, leaving you confused but you brush it off.

Even though Vil had scolded Ace about staying up not long ago, he still dragged himself and Deuce down to the window where they watched you and Malleus meet. It’s been maybe a week since they last saw your rendezvous with the fae, but Ace is determined to make sure it was really.

Deuce yawns from behind him, “Maybe they aren’t in a relationship? It’s ok for them to just be friends…” Deuce’s head clanks against the window as he tries to go back to sleep.

“But the Prefect always wakes up happier when they’ve seen Draconia the night before! And don’t you remember the first night when Rook was here and he said somethin’ about the two being in love?!”

“It’s not that big of a deal is it? Just let the prefect tell us if or when they want. You’re so obsessed over this like you’re in love with the Prefect or something.” The sleepy boy mutters, but Ace picks up on it.

He laughs haughtily, “Like I would be in love with a pathetic person with no magic.” His tone quickly softens as he voices his real concerns, “I just worry about them ya know? Draconia is a scary dude and I wouldn’t want the Prefect to get hurt. Not because I care about them or anything, but because then I wouldn’t have a place to stay when Riddle kicks me out.”

Ace looks out the window for any signs of you but the field in front of the house is empty. He sighs and drags Deuce up the stairs with him.

Green fireflies fill your gaze and your hairs stand on edge at the powerful magic in the air. Despite the odd feeling you can’t help but smile when Tsunotaro appears.

With the VDC competition just around the corner, Vil had given you tickets but as you would be on the side stage you had no use for them. And the only person, well fae, you could think to give them to was Tsunotaro.

“Child of Man, it is always a delight to see you.” He cups your cheek gently.

Despite feeling a little flustered, you continue with what you wanted to say and fish the tickets out of your pocket, unintentionally breaking his hand off. “Vil gave me tickets for the VDC but I don’t have any use for them so I thought I would give them to you! I won’t be the one on stage but I’d still really appreciate it if you came to watch what I helped put together.” You flash a lopsided grin at the fae and hold out the ticket to him.

His eyes widened in shock. “You wish to invite me to this?” You nod earnestly and he laughs. “Perhaps it is because you are not of this world, but you are certainly naive, little one. Very well, but I will need to find an adequate way to pay you back.”

“Oh! That’s not necessary!” You’re about to ramble but Tsunotaro interrupts you with a kiss on the forehead.

“I will have to teach you the rules of the fae soon, Child of Man. But for now, let us go observe the gargoyle on the south grounds together.” He tucks the ticket into his pocket carefully and holds his hand out to you. You take it and he intertwines your fingers easily.

The night before the VDC it seems no one is able to sleep. Crowded around the window are all seven members of the squad, watching as you converse, yet again, with Malleus.

Watching the two of you has become somewhat of a pastime in the time the group has spent in Ramshackle.

But all of them are growing increasingly frustrated at the way both of you seem to skirt around your feelings. Of course, they have no way of knowing what is actually going on as they can’t hear you, but your body language is enough. Plus all the times you’ve woken up and come into practice with a silly lovesick smile is pretty telling.

“He’s standin’ so close to them! Can he just bend over and kiss ‘em?” “It’s absolutely nauseating seeing Draconia like this, doe-eyed for our Manager.” “Do you think the Prefect invited him to the competition tomorrow?”

The boys quiet at the mention of the competition. The whole reason for coming down to peek into your rendezvous with Malleus was to distract themselves from the impending nerves.

Vil is the one to break the anxiety ridden air and ushers all of them up to the room and in good timing too. The door creaks as you come back inside the dorm. Everyone in the dorm is plagued with emotions, good or bad, that make it seemingly impossible to fall asleep.

The day of the VDC comes and everything goes awry at Vil’s overblot. Though it is not your first overblot, being magic-less during it really takes a toll on you. You hate being useless during these times, there’s nothing you can do besides offer moral support, de-escalating the situation after, and a shoulder to cry on.

The adrenaline fades away and the boys collapse on the broken stage. Their heaving breaths are audible and their body language tells you of their exhaustion. You’re not exactly sure what to do, but the presence of powerful yet familiar magic washes over you.

You whip your head around to see the horned fae and you want to run up to him, but you’re just as tired as everyone else plus a little lightheaded from the poisonous air. Instead you simply call out to him, “Tsunotaro! What’re you doing here so early?”

It’s as if everyone sitting in the rubble has regained energy as they all repeat your pet name for the fae, but much louder. Though it’s not a shock that you know him, they’ve all witnessed your late night trysts, but for you to call him ‘Tsunotaro’ instead of something more respectable is… surprising.

Grim’s eyes light up with recognition at the nickname. “This is the ‘Tsunotaro’ ya were fawnin’ over? The nickname makes sense since he does have those horns growin’ out of his head but…” Grim trails off and you’re thankful he shut up. You didn’t need Tsunotaro to hear about your crush on him.

Thankfully he’s grabbed by Deuce so you don’t have to shut the cat up yourself. “Grim, you need to respect your elders,” Deuce scolds through a forced smile.

“It seems I’ve arrived a bit early. Though I’m unaware of how you all expect to perform on a ruined stage.” His tone is a bit teasing and it’s groundbreaking for all that have regarded Malleus as scary. And for those that have interacted with him, it’s weird to hear him talk so tenderly.

“Oh, well you see… there was kind of an overblot.” You smile at him, as if the overblot was not a traumatic experience you and the others barely survived.

Malleus’s eyes widen, “I did not sense an abnormality of magic, nor did anyone else for that matter. I’m pleased to see that you are all okay though.”

He looks around the stadium to assess the damage. “I suppose this counts as my payback for your invite, little one.” He pats your head gently and smiles down at you. The overwhelming sense of power washes over you and sparks seem to fly out of Malleus’s hand. In an instant the previously damaged stage is restored.

“Woah,” you breathe out softly. You look at him with stars in your eyes. You’re still unaccustomed to such flashy magic or really magic at all. The others behind you, while admiring Draconia’s handiwork, are completely astonished, and maybe a little frightened, by the enormous gap in skill.

“Please, such magic is child’s play for a mage of my caliber.” He responds to your praise. Coming from anyone else it would sound arrogant, but as one of the top mages in all of Twisted Wonderland, it was deserved. “I’ll return when the competition draws closer. I expect to be enthralled by your performance, after all it is due to the effort of Schoenheit you have gotten this far.”

The fae walks over to you where you sit and crouches down. He reaches his hand out towards your face but stops just short, hovering and hesitating. Malleus resigns and ends up dropping his hand back to his side all together. You don’t voice your disappointment, but the others do.

There’s a collective groan that’s quick to catch the attention of both you and Malleus. Ace is a myriad of stupid, hence he is the one to speak up out of all the members, “Great Sevens! Are ya shy? The Prefect clearly wants you to kiss them and everyone can tell you want that too so just do it! We watch the two of you meet up practically every night and every single night you chicken out.” Ace sighs, but quickly realizes. “Uh, I mean this in the most respectful way, Mr. Draconia, sir, highness?”

You’re embarrassed, was it really so easy to read your disappointment? But more importantly, “What do you mean by ‘we’? Are you telling me everyone that’s stayed in the dorm has watched me and Tsunotaro hangout?”

You look at them expectantly and see them nod. Jamil scoffs though, “You call that a hangout? It’s without a doubt a date.”

“I didn’t want to assume…” you trail off. You turn your head to look at anywhere but Malleus, embarrassed and a little flustered. It seems like the universe is intent on letting the prince know exactly how you feel.

The boy in question places a hand on your knee to turn your attention to him. “Were you not aware that I am courting you? I thought I made it fairly obvious.” He seems confused but his words have that teasing lilt that seems to become apparent when talking to you.

“Courting is like dating right?” You ask, cocking your head to the side. You hear another collective groan, but it seems Malleus is as clueless as you are.

“Is that what they call it these days?” The fae mirrors your expression. Perhaps this is why the two of you seem to be perfect for each other.

“Please talk about your relationship status later. We need the Prefect for rehearsals.” Vil tells his classmate impatiently. Though he is quite pleased with the events that have unfolded, nights spent at the window watching you two was not a waste after all.

Malleus kisses you swiftly, having made up his mind due to the words from the others. It takes all you have not to grab him by the lapels and keep his lips glued to your own. But having your first kiss with Malleus in front of your friends is enough to remind you to practice self-restraint.

He smiles at you softly, “I will see you later, darling.” He swipes at his uniform, ridding it of any debris and takes his leave after giving you a quick peck. You stare after Malleus longingly before Vil claps his hands.

“As lovely as that was, we have a championship to win.”

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citrus-cinnamon · 1 year

Text

Praise Me?

A/N: Be a writing blog, they said, it'll be fun, they said. Next thing you know I'm swamped with graduate school and 100 different OC's that my mind decided to make. Long story short, this took far too long and I'm ashamed. I wanna dedicate this to @warm-meelk letting me rant to them as I as running out of ideas q wq Uhm, I'll post a pin of what I write and not write since I guess I'm taking requests. Anyways, enjoy my self indulgent shit. Warnings: Descriptions of gore, Emotional manipulation, implied cannibalism and just general no good bad behavior from the boys.

Demon culture is hard to grasp.

It wasn’t like good ol’ regular human culture. Sure there were some differences here and there but with enough practice anyone could work around them and possibly thrive.

But Devildom culture was another beast entirely.

Among all the dances, all the flirting, the parties and the cute touching moments, these seven demons didn’t fail to remind you that you were now the human master to the Seven Rulers of the Underworld.

And as your demons they had their own set of rules to obey.

As did you.

You put your backpack down and squat in front of the school bench, coming face to face with Belphegor as the other continues to sleep despite your face being a mere inches away from his.

“Hey. Sleepyhead. Wake up.”

A smile appears on his face as he barely opens his eyes to look at you, instead giggling as he pretends to sleep on while you poke his cheek.

“I’m serious. We are supposed to be going home!”

“Mmmm...I’m perfectly comfortable here, though.”

Always the sweet talker, Belphie takes your hand and brings it close to his chest trying to pull you in as you laugh and try to pull your hand back.

“Come on MC, let’s just stay a little longer. I just made the bench comfy.”

“And where am I going to sit?”

The demon hums before sitting up and pointing at the seat next to him with a trademark shit eating grin.

“Here. So I can lay my head on your lap.”

At this point you can’t help it. You and Belphegor may have had a rocky start but he had deemed himself worthy to trust. Honestly, you never thought about it too hard. It was just family business after all, you had just been caught in the crossfire.

Not really, your brain fills in the gaps, you’ve been manipulated into believing him and had been promptly betrayed once your purpose was over…

But he apologized, right?

An apology from a demon. It was a big step.

You take your place and smile as the Avatar of Sloth’s hair now covers your lap. Soft and lush, Belphegor yawns again and makes himself comfortable while you run your fingers through his hair while closing your eyes and feeling a soft, cold breeze.

This wasn’t so bad...

A rough hand shakes you awake, knocking you out of your dream.

“Wake the hell up, human!”

Startled, you hold onto Belphie’s shoulders and look up at an angry looking demon, fangs out and ready to use as they point a finger at the bench.

“We’re trying to clean the school grounds and you’ve been loitering for an hour. Get out already!”

Oh. Oh! An hour? You fell asleep on a school bench for an hour!? Belphie was starting to rub off on you, wasn’t he? Your hands gently shake your demon awake while you give the other demon the most apologetic look you could.

“Belphie. You need to wake up.”

“Mmmmm.”

“Belphie we need to go!”

“I don’t wanna--!”

The demon speaks up again, getting closer and kicking right under the bench where your backpack was as hard as he could.

“Wake the fuck up already! Go and play with your human pet somewhere else!”

Belphie sits up slowly as you stand up and grab your backpack, wincing when you open it up and see the mess of books, notebooks and pencils now either bent, cracked or straight up destroyed.

“Dammit.”

Oh well, easy fix. These notebooks were easily replaceable and pencils you could get anywhere, book like this on the other hand would be a bit--

“...Did they do that?”

You jump as you feel Belphegor looking over you, bringing your backpack close to you and hiding it from view. He frowns at your actions before tugging the backpack out of your grip and looking inside, face devoid of any emotion as his gaze goes from the item in his hand to the demon now glaring at you both.

“Belphie. Come on. They need to clean.”

He growls. “They ruined something of yours.”

“It doesn’t matter I can just replace it, let’s go--”

Your demon moves faster than your words, Belphegor’s snarl ringing loud in your ears despite how far he is away from you. The lesser demon barely has time to react as Belphegor grabs him by the back of the head in full demon form and yanks him back onto the bench, his bright blue nails now far larger than you’ve ever seen them before as they dig deep into the scalp of his victim.

Belphegor grabs your backpack and empties it out, your belongings clattering onto the floor as he tilts the demon’s head back with one hand while the other starts bunching up your backpack into a small ball of nothing but zippers and strings.

In your head you are already yelling at Belphegor to stop but your brain is screaming at you to run away as fast as you can while your legs don’t respond to any of the distress signals and remain locked in place, forcing you to watch as the demon scratches at Belphegor’s skin but fails to do any damage as the hand holding his head now moves to his mouth and forces it open with a sickening crack.

“AHHHH! AHHHHHH!”

“You were acting so high and mighty before.” Belphegor grins as he stuffs the bag into the demon’s mouth. “What’s wrong? Did you think I would let you walk away from ruining my master’s things?”

The demon scratches his throat when Belphegor pushes the bunched up ball deeper into their throat, a gasp escaping you as you see the outline of some of the zippers pressing right against the inside of their skin and threatening to pop out.

“Haha, I never knew scum could talk. Maybe if I shove this far enough down your throat and then pull it out, I’ll rip out your vocal cords as well. Then my master won’t have to hear your ugly voice--”

It’s pushing. Whatever is getting lodged in that demon’s throat is pushing to get out and you can almost see their nose bleeding from the pressure that is being created as their hands slowly stop moving and one of them falls limp--!

“BELPHIE STOP!”

The words die in your throat as Belphegor’s hand is wretched out of the demon’s mouth, the bag now lodged in their throat as their fingers twitch against the now half destroyed bench. The Avatar of Sloth looks down at the demon before looking back at you, shoving him down so that they hit the ground with another sickening crack.

He smiles as he stands in front of you, your eyes looking at anywhere but him as Belphie waits a couple more minutes before clearing his throat.

“MC.”

You can only make a noise, it’s almost like you are trying to hold back from swallowing your tongue. He calls your name again before letting out a quick ‘oh’ and smiling as he pats your head.

“That’s right. You have no idea how to be a master. Haha, I forgot.”

His smile is soft compared to angry trails of blood running down his arms.

“Here.”

It takes every single ounce of your self control to not slap him away when he grabs your hand, Belphie leaning down to press your palm on the top of his head just like you had been doing before.

“You need to praise me...or else I’ll feel neglected...”

He closes his eyes and leans into your touch.

“And do something much worse.”

Praise? He wanted praise? For almost killing--no--he had just killed another demon in front of you in cold blood for something as simple as some ruined books! Your eyes actively refuse to look at the corpse a couple of feet away from you as your hands continue to run through Belphie’s soft hair, the shock leaving you to mutter a few words that you thought would be enough to satiate your demon’s bloodlust and keep you safe.

“Good...Good job Belphie…Thank you.”

Your demon smiled, letting out a soft hum as you two walked hand in hand back to the House of Lamentation.

He had a nap to catch up to.

“You’ll like it.”

A bat’s eyes stares up at you as you do your best to not stare back.

“MC, just give it one bite.”

You give the sandwich in your hands a squeeze and see the eyeball pop out--

“Nope. Sorry Beel. That's just….this isn’t for me.”

Beel bumps you lightly as you both walk down the rather busy Devildom street, people walking around with several prime Devildom snacks as the food trucks behind you work overtime to try and feed all of the hungry demons that were patiently waiting their turn. It was rather sweet of your demon to invite you to one of his few lesser known hang out spots, one even his brothers didn’t know about, so they wouldn’t know about Beel eating half of these food trucks out of house and home.

Turning around, you look at the two food trucks that closed down already due to being labeled as Beel’s favourite.

Those poor souls, well at least they get their food’s worth in cash with how much Grim Beel was throwing at them to get the food out faster. The memory made you giggle as you hand the bat sandwich to Beel and look for something else to eat--

“Oh--”

A large hand tugs you back as a demon speeds past you with cash in hand, your back pressing against Beel's chest as he looks down at you in worry.

“Don’t stray too far away from me, MC. I don’t want to lose you.”

The little flip flop your heart makes feels light and fluffy, a smile creeping up on your face as you nod and hold out your hand for him to take, Beel smiling as you two walk down the busy street to make your way back home.

Until you sniffed the air.

Your eyes turn to the direction of the delicious smell, your stomach growling as you tug on Beel’s hand and point to the only thing that seemed edible for a human person.

A popcorn stand.

Purple eyes shine as Beel repays the favor and tugs you towards it, a Little D running the concession looking up at you two and grinning as he sees Beel.

“Finally! Been waiting for the star of this whole show to notice me!”

“Aren’t you popular~?”

Your hand pokes Beel’s side but the demon is already drooling at the mouth, holding up one finger as he looks down at the very simple menu.

“One gargantuan bucket of popcorn with Devilcheese topping and chupacabra butter drizzled on top--”

“Please.”

Beel nods, realizing he almost forgot his manners.

“Please.”

“Coming right up!”

The Little D takes out a rather big bucket and starts filling it out, Beel’s eyes not once straying from the deliciously warm, popped kernels entering the bucket as you take your time to look at the rest of the concession stand. As much as you would love to eat some of the popcorn with Beel, your hand was most likely at risk if it ever came near the vicinity of Beel and his food.

Besides, your demon would most likely finish that in 5 minutes flat.

So you scan the other items in front of you before shrugging and deciding on a small bag of pre-popped popcorn. This was more your speed anyway.

“Oh and can we also get--”

The bag gets snatched away from you quickly as another demon stands beside you, slamming down a couple of Grim on the counter as he makes quick work of the snack. You can’t help but stare as the demon grabs a handful and starts eating, his eyes meeting yours once he finally felt you staring.

“...did you want this, human?”

The question isn’t asked with any apology or remorse. It’s almost as if he is daring you to say something. Something inside you wants to call out to Beel to come help you deal with the less than savory Devildom interactions but you had 6 months left in this program...you needed to learn to stand up for yourself!

“No.”

And by standing for yourself you meant saving your own ass.

With a grin, the demon laughs and throws a piece of popcorn at you.

“Good answer. At least you’re a human who knows their place.”

The piece lands on your jacket, your eyes rolling as you wipe it off and turn back to look at Beel.

CRACK

Despite the sickening bone crushing sound as a spray of something flickered past your vision, nobody in the street seems to pay any attention to the now screaming demon behind you. You slowly turn around, looking down at the other demon now prostrated at your feet as the bag of popcorn was in Beel’s left hand--

And the demon’s arm was on his right.

“Order up--oh.”

The Little D blinks at the sight before frowning as he snaps his fingers at you, the demon’s screams now replaced with angry snarls and cries as Beel keeps holding him down onto the pavement. You put a hand over your mouth at the black blood now pooling under him and move away when the puddle starts growing outwards to you, your stomach churning and losing any sort of appetite you could have had at the sight.

“Hey human. I don’t care if one of your demons does this but mind taking it somewhere else? It’s going to wreck my shop.”

Wreck his--someone’s arm had just been ripped off!

Your eyes look to see if someone, anyone, was paying attention but the only thing you could seem to find were a couple of passing glances here and there as the rest of the Devildom went about its day despite the horrifying scene playing out next to them.

“Well?”

The Little D speaks up again.

“Aren’t you going to call him off?”

Beel’s usual friendly face is replaced with a calm anger as he stares down at the arm in front of him with a tentative look. He brings it close to his mouth, a similar string of saliva running down his lips as he opens his jaw---

“BEEL!”

He stops, eyes going back to stare at the way your legs were shaking and how much you were holding back from throwing up due to the smell of demon blood mixed with buttery popcorn.

“Scum like you aren’t worth eating.”

The Avatar of Gluttony drops the arm close to his victim, the demon quickly grabbing it and scampering off as you watch the droplets of black follow in his quick steps. You lean against the concession stand and put a hand over your heart as you try to calm yourself down and to get the bile in your throat to go back to where it belonged.

“MC.”

You jumped when you heard Beel calling out to you, your demon smiling as he took your hand and handed you the bag of popcorn you no longer wanted.

“This is the one you wanted, right?”

It was slimy. The popcorn inside was clearly not affected by the blood now sticking to the bag and your fingers.

“Beel...”

“Or did you want some of mine? If it’s with you I’ll always share.”

That wasn’t the issue! He had just ripped another demon’s arm off and he was going to eat it--!

Beel calls out your name once again, smiling as he gets closer and looks down at you expectantly. You both look at each other for a good three seconds, the longest three seconds of your life, before the demon picks you up so that your backside is perched on his arm. A part of you was still willing to complain and demand that he get you down but he takes one of your hands and puts it on his cheek, kissing your palm while his tongue licks up some of the blood that had dried between your fingers.

“Did I do good?”

You can’t answer, the only thing you can do is watch as he presses another kiss to your hand.

“I heard human masters praise their demons when they do good…”

He nibbles on your thumb.

“Aren’t you going to praise me, master?”

A tongue licks right under your fingernail, trying to get to every nook and cranny almost as if he was savoring you--

“Y--Yes!”

Beel’s face lights up as he looks at you, eyes softening and bringing back the Beel you knew as you rub your thumb lightly across his cheek and do your best to swallow back the bile threatening to gargle its way up your throat once more.

“Thank you Beel...thank you.”

The touch of a master felt so nice, Beel thought, that it almost made it worth not eating what he had craved for in such a long time. But he was satiated with just this--the demon’s blood on your fingers tasted better than any topping he could think of.

“MC~!”

You laugh as you feel Asmo wrap his arms around you and tug you close, the music thumping in your ears as Solomon chuckles at the image you two make. It had been a rough week for Asmo with the launch of his new perfume line, the plans he had for his pop up stores and then the collaboration he wanted to do with Majolish that was almost late in its release--but somehow it had all finished right on time in what had to be the longest five days in your life.

Being a celebrity in the human world was hard, you thought, but being a celebrity in the Devildom was much harder when you had to do most of the collaborations and testing of products yourself.

Maybe that is why Asmo brought you along, you guessed. In a way, you were providing him with emotional support and praising him every step of the way whenever he managed to get one thing done and immediately move to the other.

There were no breaks this whole week, either for you or for him, so coming to the Fall after the announcement of the collaboration with Majolish was like the cherry on top of a pretty piled up ice cream sundae.

Asmo lets out a happy hum as he presses a kiss to your cheek, pulling away with a loud smooch as he settles into the backrest of the seat.

“Everything got done on time! I can’t believe those jerks at the perfume company thought to move up the launch to Monday when they knew that I would also be talking to the palette company the same day! I gave each and every one of those executives my calendar! It’s like they can’t even read…”

Solomon shrugs and takes a sip of his drink, looking out into the sea of bodies on the dance floor dancing along to the music.

“You are becoming increasingly popular lately, Asmo, maybe they just wanted to get the launch done soon so they could start another project with you.”

The Avatar of Lust sighs and leans against you, cuddling close as you run a hand through his hair instinctively.

You’ve been doing this two or three times for the past five days so it's almost become second nature.

“I understand that they do want to get me into as many ad campaigns as possible, but if that is cutting into the time I spend with MC then they can just wait.”

His eyes shine when he looks at you, your heart picking up in speed as he leans closer.

“Right, MC? You’re all mine tonight?”

You can’t help it, Asmo has been working hard and you knew he thrived off attention so you just answer without thinking.

“As long as you don’t tell the other’s about it...I’m all yours.”

Asmo’s squealing and his arms wrapping around you cover up the worried look Solomon sends your way--

Only to be interrupted by someone clearing their throat.

“Asmodeus?”

It’s hard not to stare at the pretty demon in front of you. She is wearing a beautiful dress that shows off every asset from her hips to her chest, making it hard to concentrate on just one thing as she sends Asmo a shy smile. Her wings twitch lightly, letting you see the way the inside skin of her bat-like wings caught the neon lights and made them shine even more.

You still hadn’t gotten used to seeing succubuses and it showed.

Your demon unwraps himself from you and sits up straight, the other sitting down beside him and subtly pulling him close to whisper something into his ear. He nods and lets her go, the demon waving at him and heading out to the dance floor as Asmo starts stepping out of the booth the three of you occupied.

You can't help but ask.

"What did she say?"

Asmo takes out a pocket mirror and fixes his hair.

“She wanted to dance. I think I saw her at the pop up store today so she’s most likely a fan.”

He snaps the mirror shut and sends a wink your way.

“I’ll see you two in a bit~! Don’t miss me too much, okay?”

Solomon waves goodbye as you watch Asmo get lost in the crowd, sighing as you let yourself relax.

“He certainly kept you busy.”

You chuckle and put your drink down, eyes staring at the demons losing themselves to the song.

“I didn’t mind...it was nice to see him work so hard on something he was passionate about. I never see him try this hard at RAD so I didn’t know he had such a work oriented attitude when it came to stuff like his product line. Especially when it comes to organizational skills.”

Solomon snorts.

“Did you see his face when one of the demons tried to stock the facial cream right next to the body wash in the store? I thought he was going to have a breakdown.”

Both of you laugh at the surreal memory as the music slows down to a smooth and intimate beat.

“MC.”

“Hm?”

Swirling his drink in the glass, Solomon's voice gets serious as he speaks up again. “How much praise have you been giving Asmo lately?”

What...kind of question was that? Did he mean how much you had been praising Asmo this week or as a whole?

“A regular amount?”

There was Monday when you praised him with dealing with such a short notice change to the plans, Tuesday when Lucifer caught him trying to sneak away from RAD in order to talk to some other company that wanted to work with him and he ended up coming back to RAD instead, Wednesday was a day full of praise because you got to see Asmo’s work ethic first hand with the pop up store as well as how nice he had been to his fans, Thursday and Friday sort of blended together---

“You may want to cut it back.”

The beat drops low as the music gets more intense, the bodies on the floor grinding against each other as Solomon puts his drink down and makes an effort to look you in the eyes.

“Asmo hasn’t had a master like you before. You tend to be free and open with your affection and to a demon that is--”

“Sol, I'm not their master. I'm their friend. ”

You didn't want to explain this to Solomon again. The title of master was so pretentious, just because you shared a pact with the seven Lords of Hell didn't mean you could boss them around! And you didn't want to order them around in the first place!

The brothers were your family, Asmo was your family and you'd be damned if anyone tried to put you in a level above them.

Surprise is the first reaction you see in his eyes before Solomon concedes and drinks the rest of his cocktail, gently placing the glass down and sending you an understanding smile.

"The brothers really got lucky when they got you, didn't they? A human who is kind even to a demon."

He taps the table with his hand and stands up, a hand going up to stop you when you copy his movements.

"I'm sure Asmo will want to keep you here for a bit more. I think I can make my way to Purgatory Hall by myself."

Well, now you feel bad.

Solomon knew more than you on the matter of demons and pacts but you knew how to handle the brothers now. You’ve been with them a full year, that’s enough to know a person’s inner workings. You could handle Lucifer at his crankiest, Mammon at his craziest and Satan at his angriest. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to know more about pacts, it’s just that what you had with the brothers, what you had with Asmo, went beyond that--

Your view of the club is cut off as you feel a pair of hands cover your eyes.

"Guess who?"

Fight and flight instincts are subdued when you recognize the voice, your body relaxing and smiling as you touch the demon’s hand to pry it away--only to feel something warm and wet covering his skin.

"Asmo?"

"Ding! Ding!"

It's strange how quickly you’ve come to recognize the smell of demonic blood. The brothers had done their best to hide that side of the Devildom for you but you caught glimpses of the violence here and there. It was a demon’s nature, you supposed, but the strong odor always made your eyes tear up.

So having the smell so close to you now, it was making you dizzy and keeping you rooted to your spot.

"Oh? MC you are all tensed up--ah."

The tilt in his voice changes as Asmo pulls his hands away so you could blink away the spots dancing around your eyes.

"Do I smell bad, MC?"

You waste no time standing up, turning around and then walking behind the booth, pupils shrinking as you see the black liquid running from Asmo's arm all the way to the very tip of his fingers. Whatever isn't soaked up by Asmo's jacket drips onto the floor, each drop heavy and messy as they littered the flashing floor.

"I probably do to a human, huh? The feeling alone is disgusting--"

"Asmo what happened?!”

Why was he bleeding so much? There were no cuts in his jacket and he didn’t seem to be freaking out. Did something happen in the dancefloor, had someone tried to attack him--why wasn’t he more alarmed!? You stop investigating his arm when Asmo coos at you as he takes your hand and intertwines it with yours.

“Always so cute~ Are you worried for me, MC?”

“Yes?! Did you get into a fight--?”

“Shush shush.”

A blood stained finger taps your lips, Asmo letting out a sly grin as he leans close to whisper into your ear.

“It isn’t mine, darling, you don’t need to worry so much.”

Your hands try to tug away from his when he speaks but he keeps you close, his other hand wrapping around your waist as he forces your attention on his voice and his voice alone.

“The succubus I was dancing with? She was a bit...rude. I don’t know why she started making such accusatory comments about you keeping me all to yourself and not letting me pay attention to my fans, but she just let her mouth run anyway. She started saying such mean things about you, MC, I just couldn’t take it.”

He lets out a happy sigh, as if satisfied with the decision he had taken as he buries his face in your shoulder.

“So I just ripped one of her wings off to warn her. I didn’t think she’d spray this much out--ruined my entire outfit.”

Asmo presses a kiss to your neck as you try to pull away again but can only budge from his hold as he starts swaying you to the music.

“Asmo--”

“Hehe, I did a good thing, didn’t I? What is it Levi says? I protected your honor?”

His fingernails seem to almost dig into your back, your body now barely feeling like yours as you let Asmo move you side to side as the music switches to a love song from the human world.

“So shouldn’t I get some praise, master?”

You can’t breathe. It’s not just Asmo pulling you close as you feel yourself sag in his arms with how tightly he is holding you, you can’t breathe because of his confession and just how stupid you could be.

Solomon didn’t praise Asmo as much, in fact he was stricter with Asmo than the other demons you knew he had a pact with, and you had just blown off any sort of advice because you thought that you and the brothers were the same.

“Masteeeer~ Tell me something good...please~”

His words are no longer coherent but just mumbles as you feel him breathing you in as the music grows louder and louder and his grip grows tighter and tighter.

Asmo grins as he feels two hands embrace him, burying your face in his chest as you let him move you in whatever way he wants.

“...thank you...thank you for protecting me…”

He lets out a pleased sigh as he feels your arm rub his back up and down, his mouth opening up to lick and bite at the skin you were so carelessly letting him be so close but stopping himself. It wouldn’t make sense to worship his master with all this blood on one side of him. Words of praise were enough for now.

Once they get back to the House of Lamentation, he’ll ask for a different kind of reward~

Demons do not necessarily have to please their masters but the stronger the connection the stronger the need to make their devotion shown. It is important that the connection between a demon and their master stays one of giving and taking. If the balance is shifted, the human or the demon may lose control of the pact entirely, leaving the remaining party to act irrationally. Just remember:

Your master is temporary.

What exists between you and your master is temporary.

Humans stay with humans, demons stay with demons.

You read the passage a couple more times and then take a peek at the blonde in front of you, blinking when you see Satan meeting your eyes. Both of you look at each other before he breaks first, smiling as he puts his book down and speaks up.

“How are you holding up?”

Looking down at your notes, you blink at the lack of writing on the page. You two had been studying here for an hour for your Pactology exam but your eyes had just been stuck on that passage since you first opened the book. You weren’t going to be forward enough to say that Satan was in love with you but you could admit that the feelings between him and you had certainly grown.

“I’m good just...studying, you know?” In fact, it had been that way with all of the brothers.

You weren’t necessarily friends but also not necessarily lovers. All of it was just a convoluted mess that all of you preferred to not give a name because of just how complicated it was.

Yet Satan had always been a bit more straightforward with you.

The rather direct straight messages, the always polite yet flirty attitude, the secret glances he thought you wouldn’t notice that used to make you laugh but now they made you worry.

Were you being too lenient?

The book was set up as a case study so there were some pages filled with stories about demons who had done atrocious things in order to please their masters in the name of 'love'. Some demons had killed entire royalty lines while others had topped over governments and kingdoms. It wasn’t necessarily spoken as if it was a bad thing, what a demon did when they were in love, it was just spoken as a sort of ‘warning’ that most demons should be the level headed ones in the pact relationship.

Lest they wish to be subjugated to a unilateral pact rather than a bilateral one, all for 'love'.

But maybe you didn't need to worry about that? The stories they spoke of were of some sort of twisted devotion a demon could have for their master! The brothers weren’t devoted to you like that. Satan still teased you from time to time and he knew you were still working your way around having seven pacts. Why would he be devoted to a human like yourself? Why would any of them be devoted to you in such a way!

You close the book as your demon comes to sit down next to you, Satan putting an arm around your chair and sliding closer so he could look at your notes. He hums at the blank pages before smiling and opening the book back up, scanning the index for a moment before tapping one line and flipping to the correct page.

“The test is going to be handwritten so you have to make sure you can explain this case in detail--” He flips back a couple pages, not noticing you looking at him as he clicks his tongue when he finds it.

“And this one as well. If you know these two by the time the test rolls around you should be fine, these are the professors favourite cases so they are bound to be on there--"

“Satan, how do you feel about me?”

Surprised wouldn't begin to cover what he looks like. Satan pulls away slightly to get a better look at you and then smiles as he tucks a stray piece of hair over your ear.

"Why the sudden question?"

You can't help but blush, he always acted like this even in public. Were you enabling him, maybe, by letting him do this? But it felt so nice--

"Just...want to know, you know?

Satan nods before flipping a couple of pages on the book and stopping on the page you were reading. He takes a couple of seconds to scan the words.

"Humans stay with humans...demons stay with demons."

He blinks and looks at you, his eyes fixated on every involuntary twitch as the library gets even more quiet.

"Do you believe this, MC?"

You look at Satan and then back to the book.

"What do you mean?"

His expression softens as he clears his throat.

"Well some of these books were written a very long time ago and times change. Just like the Devildom changes. Look at us, we have a library now. One with computers and everything."

"And not one with typewriters?"

Both of you laugh, the mundanity of it all setting in as you feel yourself relax. It was the same back in the human world, afterall. Things changed, people changed, everything was in a constant state of change so why shouldn't the Devildom experience the same thing?

You weren't doing anything wrong.

"I'll find a newer version then--"

"No need. The notes I took should be enough. Besides--"

Satan scoots even closer and leans over the table to grab his notebook, smiling as his hand grabs your shoulder and brings you closer to him.

"We can just study like this. Since we are at the library we should be keeping quiet."

With renewed confidence, you smile and lean against his shoulder as the hand on the back of your chair pulls you in closer to press a kiss on your cheek. The next few minutes are spent doing nothing but whispering to each other about the exam and several other questions you might have had before Satan mentions something about grabbing a book he needs and how you just needed to sit tight.

Your eyes had to stop staring at so many pact symbols so the break was highly welcome.

Rubbing them with your hands, you miss the demon standing up and walking towards your table.

“...human.”

The tone is stern but surprisingly polite, making you pay attention quickly as you greet the demon with a slight head nod. They take a minute to look at you up and down before speaking again.

“Listen...I really don’t mean to sound rude but I really don’t think you should be doing this outside.”

You blink and look around you, trying to find the clear social violation you had crossed, which only made the demon roll their eyes and tap their finger on the table to bring back your attention.

“I meant the affection, human. I understand that Lord Satan is proud or whatever of having you as his master but that sort of praise should be kept private. If you want to subjugate your demon like that, please do so where none of us can see---”

The liquid that hits your face is warm, disgustingly warm, that you immediately put a hand over your eyes and hiss at the small stinging sensation it seems to be leaving behind. A scream, far too close to you, makes you jump from your seat as you rub at your eyes furiously with your sleeve in order to see what had happened...or what was possibly attacking you.

You don't waste a second, you immediately react with your first instinct.

"Satan!"

Your blood was pumping, your face was warm, every single hair on your body was standing on end as you finally rub and blink away the thing that was blinding you--

Only to be met with Satan's eyes shining as they look at you, a smile on his face while preening at the fact that you had called out his name, not once caring about the eyeball he was now holding in his hand and the demon kneeling in front of him gripping at the blood and skin that was now pooling and dripping down their face and to the floor while hazardously, screaming bloody murder.

“MC…”

Satan’s breathing is heavy as he throws the eye off to the side, smiling as he ignores the demon bleeding out on the floor in favor of taking care of you.

“What a shame, it got you all dirty.”

He takes a handkerchief from his pocket while his other hand went to delicately touch your chin--

Only to blink when you step away from him, his hand hanging in the air as he looks at you. You open your mouth to speak about what he had done, to give any sort of reprimand or punishment but the anger in your demon’s eyes as he smiled and tried to reach out for you again kept you from saying anything and only letting you close your mouth as his hand tilted your chin up.

“I was right. We should have just studied in my room. You shouldn’t have had to deal with someone like them.”

You can only stare at him in horror as he cleans away the blood slowly, licking his lips before leaning down to give your now clean cheek a brief peck.

“Aren’t you happy I was here to protect you, MC?”

Your eyes darted down to the demon on the floor, picking themselves up and running out of the library as everybody else continued working in silence, as if only a mild inconvenience had happened that had barely disrupted the atmosphere of the library.

“I did a good job, didn’t I? Getting them away from you..”

Why did no one help them? Why did no one stop it?

“You even called out to me.”

Your heart stops as your demon takes your hand and presses his lips to your knuckles.

“What sort of praise will you give me, master?”

Oh.

No one stopped him because that was your job.

The text flashes in your head, a note you had also forgotten to jot down. You do not need praise from your master.

Humans do not realize it but their praise, due to the pact's effects, gives a sense of calm that is not present in a demon’s nature and can keep a demon subjugated and even persuade them to make the pact permanent. A demon will find themselves seeking out that praise indefinitely, leading to irrational acts of violence that aren’t stated in the pact and an increase in a demon’s possessive nature towards their master if praise isn’t given often.

Keep a level head and remember, you work for you and not for them.

Satan smiles as he feels your fingers on his cheek, wiping the blood away slowly as you try to continue the action despite the small thrum of pain on your thumb as you touched the now drying black blood.

“You did good...thank you…thank you Satan.”

It’s like he can breathe again, your demon thinks, with the way you are touching his hair and looking up at him. You looked so helpless and how could he possibly ignore such a cute look? He takes your hand and helps you pick the stuff strewn across the table, tutting at the mess the bug dared to leave behind on the notebooks.

But it didn’t matter now, his room was a lot quieter and a better place to study anyway.

If he and his master ended up studying at all.

FALL INTO DESPAIR!

You sigh as your fingers move against the controllers, your character gliding on the screen as they did their signature move and jumped back onto the platform with great ease.

Good thing this was just the practice stage, you were pretty sure you wouldn't have made that smooth a-jump if you were playing against Levi.

Another sigh escapes you as you look at the door.

Where did Levi even go?

What was the point of playing a new game if he wasn't around to tell you every single detail about it? That was the first reason you had bought Demonic Gear anyway, to laugh as Levi complained or praised a certain feature in the game.

This game specifically had been one Levi was extremely hyped to buy, even inviting you to wait with him outside one of the few game stores the Devildom had opened for the release.

The experience itself was one you had to take part in, Levi insisted as he dragged you outside, one that would take a normie like you and turn them into a hardcore gamer.

Which you honestly couldn't care less about.

You just liked seeing him excited.

Was it silly to say that it also got you excited as well? Levi tended to share everything with you when it came to his interests that it made it hard not to get excited as well.

And with how often Levi tended to put himself down for having no friends, inviting you to something he enjoyed was probably the biggest test of friendship he could give you.

One, you would like to say, you barely passed.

You look at your fingers on the controller, frowning as you tap 'A' to restart the match.

Waiting in line with Levi had been a good experience like you thought, he had a backpack full of snacks and even warmers for your pockets so that your hands wouldn't get cold.

It was cute when you offered to hold hands inside your jacket pocket so that he also wouldn't feel cold, Levi nearly dropping a full chip bag in surprise as he sputtered about how he needed to keep himself bright and alert in case the doors opened early--!

Only to mutter in a low voice how he wouldn't mind doing it for a few minutes, just as long as you paid attention as well.

You smiled and let his hand intertwine with yours while huddled close, smiling whenever you felt him squeeze down just to prove that this was in fact real.

Maybe that had been your first mistake.

The doors had opened earlier than they had advertised, people immediately rushing in as the line moved fast and hazardously--

"Move over, human trash!"

It was fast, whatever the demon did to make you trip, but you barely could pull your hand away as you felt yourself about to fall--

"MC!"

Levi's hands were rough as he caught and pulled you away from the sea of people, hugging you tight to his chest as the demons in line quickly shuffled into the store and out with their copies in hand.

By the time you two were able to go in, there wasn't a single copy left.

The walk back home had been quiet, a look of guilt on your face as you tell him that the moment a new shipment came you would go back and buy it yourself--

But Levi just said it wasn't your fault and that he was just happy he got to hold your hand.

You insisted on going to his room and playing a different game but Levi asked you to just wait for him there, stating that there was something he needed to do before he could be worthy to stand by your side again.

That line alone made you worried. He only talked like this when he was really upset about something.

Without waiting one second, you run to his room and search up the game on the online store. Levi was planning to spend this amount anyway so it didn’t matter whether you purchased it online or as a physical copy, right!

Who were you kidding? It mattered to him...and so it mattered to you.

“Maybe I can reserve a copy now? Surely the shipment will arrive soon--”

“MC?” You jump up and put the remote down on his chair, smiling as you turn around to at least tell him about how you got him a consolation prize--!

Yet your gasp interrupts any sort of good news that you could give, almost tripping over yourself as you watch a small drop of blood drip off from Levi’s nails, the rest matted to the clothes of his demon form as he gave you a small smile.

“Levi!” All your thoughts are on immediately making sure he isn’t hurt, going to reach for his arm--but feeling your hand stopped by his as he immediately gets down on one knee.

“I took care of them, Master.”

“...what? Levi--”

“The rats that tried to hurt you.”

He looks up and you feel yourself back away, the hand grabbing yours tugging you back slightly as you look away from him. Levi had never looked so focused, his eyes never once breaking eye contact with yours as he switched from grabbing onto your hand to holding it with both of his hands.

“I saw their faces...the ones who did something so unforgivable. My instincts had told me to get rid of them right that instant but my Master needed my protection first.”

Levi presses your hand to his cheek and closes his eyes.

“But I followed their scent afterwards, the sick scent they had left behind on you when they got too close. They hadn’t even gone straight home to play the game they had stolen from us--they were just bragging...bragging about their foolish attempt to hurt you.”

He smiles as his hold gets tighter.

“But a fool always gets what a fool deserves.”

You remembered that line. The fourth book from the TSL series, the line the Lord of Shadows whispers to Henry before killing off one of the Lord of Fool’s messengers who had been sent to take Henry away. You remember Levi talking about how that book nearly had not been printed because of such a graphic detail on the description of the murder, revealing a side of the Lord of Shadows that fans may not have seen before…

The quiet and reclusive Lord, ripping the arm of the messenger clean off before proceeding to gouge out the inside of the stump with just his nails, the messenger only being able to scream in pain as the viscera gathered in a pool of meat and blood right next to his feet--!

Your hand twitches in realization as the blood burns your skin slightly, like when you put it far too close to the stove when it was clear that you needed to pull away.

“And better news yet, I reaped their spoils for you...for us…”

He shakily presses your hand on his head, his smile getting wobbly as a small trace of saliva slowly drips down the side of his lips.

“S--So please...praise me, my Master! Praise the good job your demon has done for you…! The Hero he has become for you!”

In your head, you remember the rest of that scene. The Lord of Shadows had turned to Henry with a nervous but victorious smile, claiming how he had saved his friend from being taken away from his side. Yet the book spoke about Henry's sudden and tiny fear of what the Lord of Shadows was capable of, his praise not born from gratitude but from fear of what would happen if he didn't give the once evil Lord what he wanted.

So you spoke your line perfectly and with what must have been the same fear that Henry felt as you gently ran your fingers through Levi's hair.

"My...my friend. My hero...thank you for keeping me safe...and keeping me close to you."

Levi feels his heart beat fast at your words, his breathing now ragged and heavy as he feels your words affect every single nerve in his body.

This...this was his first headpat! A headpat from his Master! Of all the items he could have possibly gotten from this quest--this was the rarest item of all! Even if he had to go and waste his time with some normie demons, it really had all been worth it! All for his master's praise!

Maybe if he begged enough...their Master would spend the night with him as well?

Your leg was bouncing more than you’d care to think about.

How did you even get into this mess? It wasn’t that you were unsupervised at any time during the day, Mammon was always the one insisting he walk you to and from classes the first few months of your pact with him so it was almost impossible to be alone..

But demon's were crafty and you had let your guard down while in RAD.

You look around and sigh, Mammon was really late.

It had been his idea to meet in this cafe, why was he the one late!? Your leg starts bouncing again as you look down at your phone and the rather glaring message that was from an unmarked number.

[You better not forget your promise, human, else we'll go after your scumbag protector!]

As much as you loved Mammon, it was getting harder to get him out of his debts nowadays. Not that you could possibly pay off any sort of debts that he had, you were sure some of them were in the millions, but this one had been different.

Some demons had managed to corner you outside of RAD, telling you that Mammon had given them a fake human artifact and how they wanted the 'real' thing.

You had made a face apparently because they told you it wasn't something that disgusting and that they weren't the kind of demons to 'mess around' with humans and how that was only for freaks.

They just wanted something of yours that they could sell.

Which, okay, you could do that.

"Mammon, where are you…"

They had agreed to meet you in an alley near the cafe you were currently at, one of the reasons you said yes to Mammon in the first place. You were just going to have coffee with him and then excuse yourself to give the demons what they wanted. It was going to be the quickest exchange of your life if only your demon would get here!

You grab your phone and shoot back a quick message, telling them to be patient and that you would be there in a few minutes.

The promise was getting harder to keep though.

With the ghost waiters staring at you and the other demons looking at you pitifully for sitting at a table all alone, you were starting to get more and more upset by the minute.

This was spoiling Mammon. Lucifer was right, you were actively spoiling Mammon at this point.

But how could you say no to him! Mammon may have his moments and, yes, he may have tried to sell something of yours but almost all of that cash that he seemed to get back went to get small presents for you and him! Your entire shelf back at the House of Lamentation was filled with little knick knacks he had bought you over the past few months and even the sight of them were enough to send your heart flying.

Any gift that Mammon gave you was stored and kept away at a very special place, both in your room and in your heart.

You weren’t shy about it either, any sort of jewelry he would buy would be worn by you the next day. It was met by annoyed comments and an occasional outburst as to why Mammon had such bad taste in jewelry but you knew that was the brother’s usual way of teasing you and him.

Your eyes go down to the bracelet you were wearing, smiling as you rub your thumb over the small golden links that kept it hanging around your wrist.

He had done so much for you, it was time you did this for him.

[Mammon! I need to go somewhere first! I’ll meet you at the cafe when I can, okay?]

Good thing you didn’t tell him you got here first and even better thing that you didn’t order anything. The chair scrapes against the cobblestone as you make your way out of the cafe, running down a somewhat familiar street as you try to find the correct alleyway.

“In front of The Fall and then take a left, in front of The Fall and take a left--”

You smile as the lights of The Fall greet you, illuminating the only alleyway that could possibly fit the description. Digging into your pockets, you pull out the artifact you were going to hand over and nod in determination.

“Hand it over and get out...nothing hard about that.”

Your hand goes over your heart as you try to calm it down while you turn and take the first few steps in--

“Mammon?”

The name escapes you before you can take in the image in front of you, a pair of blueish eyes staring at you Mammon’s leathery wings open up to hide the splatters of blood all over the concrete walls, but failing to hide the thing that he was holding in his hand.

A head. A head with a spine underneath that curved so perfectly, just like horns adorsninf the top.

The horns of a demon who looked so so similar to the one you had spoken to today--

“MC?”

His fingers immediately drop what he is holding on the poorly hidden pool of viscera strewn around him before retracting back to the fingers you were so used to seeing steal that it was so different to see them covered in blood.

"Why didn't you wait a the cafe…?"

And although you know it's him, you know that Mammon would never hurt you, your body takes a few steps back when he turns around to face you entirely.

Mammon in his demon form wasn’t anything new but your brain had equated it to match more serious events such as being in the Demon Lord’s castle or a dangerous situation. So seeing him in this form, with blood almost dripping off the leathery garments as he turns to look at you and calls out your name again in a worried but serious tone.

It was getting harder to fight your survival instincts.

He holds out his hand and you quickly recoil away, Mammon looking down and cursing when he sees it is caked with viscera and demon blood, the stench of it getting heavier the closer he gets to you. Quickly wiping it away, your demon wastes no time in meeting your steps as his hand goes to grab the back of your head and his arm wraps around your waist to pull you close to him.

“Why didn’t you tell me they were bothering you?”

Your eyes were stinging from the smell of death all around him, which you guessed was a good thing since you didn’t even know how to answer his question.

“When did they get to you...I was with you this entire week…”

It was like he wasn’t even directing these questions at you, just thinking out loud to himself as you feel his wings stretch out so that you wouldn’t be able to see the bloody mess on the cobblestone street--

A hand runs through your hair as Mammon hugs you tighter, your lips now pressed in a thin line as you hear vague whispers of what he should have done to them in the first place if they had dared to come and talk to you so openly.

“They shouldn’t have been around you, none of them have, nobody but me should be around you always…”

Your hand grips at his bicep as you feel his hold tighten.

“I had to protect my master...who else is going to protect you but me?”

He quickly pulls you away slightly and cups your face, your skin crawling when you feel the other hand he had fail to clean press against your cheek as he forced your eyes on him.

“You really should have told me something sooner...but I don’t mind forgiving my Master for something they couldn’t control.”

Mammon smiles and wraps his wings around you, so that nothing could possibly deter you from staring only at him.

“...I’m your protector, aren’t I?”

His hands fingernails lightly dig into your cheek as you jump when he speaks again.

“Say I’m your protector...please Master…”

It was fight of flight for you and the only way you could defend yourself was to soothe the beast in front of you with the words he wanted to hear.

“You’re...you’re my protector...Mammon...you always protect me…”

Your eyes never tear away from him as you copy his movements, cupping his cheeks and doing your best to hold back tears as the worry inside of you morphs into an awful dreadful feeling.

“Say it again.”

“You’re my protector…”

“Again.”

“Thank you for protecting me…”

“Again.”

“Mammon please…”

Your demon lets go of your cheeks as you start to cry, smiling when he feels just how shaken you were by the whole situation. It must have been scary to be bullied by those scumbags, wasn’t it? But you didn’t have to cry anymore, your Mammon was here to protect you from everything that wished to take you away from him. He presses his lips to the corners of your eyes before hugging you close, reminding himself that from now on he would never dare to leave you alone.

His master deserved his protection, even if they didn’t know they needed it.

“Nice to meet you!”

You try to hold your smile just as you are holding out your hand, looking at one of the many Dukes of Hell that Diavolo was introducing you to during one of his many birthday parties.

Only for them to once again ignore you, smiling at Lucifer as they shake his hand and go back to enjoying the party.

“...well so much for that.”

You sigh and let your hand flop to your side as Lucifer stares at the guest walk away before turning back to you and offering you a sympathetic smile. As much as you wish you could return it, it was annoying to think that Diavolo had once again invited you to one of his many parties and decided to ignore the very clear fact that you were still a human.

And that most demons, especially demon royalty, tended to hate your guts.

No matter what you could possibly represent, you were still one of the races that they believed themselves to be superior to and no amount of smiling and hand shaking could fix that.

So it was annoying that Diavolo still thought that he could put you in those situations and pretend like there was nothing wrong.

“Did you see how she looked at me?”

“They were most likely impressed by your outfit, they had the decency to look at you at least.”

“They stared into my eyes for one second before ignoring me and being all smiley with you.”

You make a face as you turn towards Lucifer and give him your best aristocratic ‘I’m so much better than you’ gesture.

“Why Lucifer, you look just as radiant as the day we met! Would you save a dance for me later on tonight?”

Lucifer chuckles and takes your hand, leading you towards the stairs of the great palace.

“As much as I enjoyed the joke, I will have to let you go. One of the Duchesses of the Seventh Layer of the Devidom has asked for a dance and Diavolo fears she might throw an earth shattering tantrum if she does not get her wish.”

Your eyes look out towards the crowd as you spot the duchess in question, her eyes not once staring at you but almost drilling holes into Lucifer’s back as she tapped her fingers against her arm in anger at the mere thought of being kept waiting.

“Oh her? I like the hairpin she has on.”

Letting go of Lucifer’s hand, you go up the first few steps as Lucifer’s eyes remain fixed on your form.

“Her hairpin?”

“Yeah. I think it was a ghost lily? Either way, it was beautiful. It looked like it could go well with either long or short hair, those kinds of hairpins are hard to come by.”

You grin and turn to look at Lucifer.

“You think it’d look good on me?”

He doesn’t get to answer the question as you feel a rumble underneath your feet, both of you turning to stare at the fuming woman making her way towards you.

“That’s my cue. Good luck!”

Lucifer calls out to you but you are already halfway up the stairs, giggling to yourself as you realize just what your poor demon had to go through by being Diavolo’s second right hand man. That Duchess looked far too angry to be a regular demon, if you had stayed any longer she would have probably killed you right where you stood!

Well, not like Lucifer would let that happen.

Despite already being far away from the crowd, your smile stays on your face as you make your way towards one of the many balconies around the castle. The air is fresh and cool on your face as you lean against the dark marble to take in the view of the Devildom from Diavolo’s castle.

Whatever this had been, whether a cultural exchange program or some form of divine punishment, it was becoming easier to manage.

In fact, it had become a lot easier to manage once you had Lucifer’s pact mark imprinted on your left eye, officially making it the most prominent pact mark on your body. As much as you wished to believe that you had accustomed yourself to regular ol' Devildom life, Lucifer's pact mark had done most of the heavy lifting.

And that alone was enough to make you feel guilty.

The point of this entire 'exchange' was to lessen the strain of many years of conflict between the three realms and while Simeon and Solomon were pulling their weight, with Luke following behind rather dutifully, you had still struggled with basic demon interactions.

Until you got Lucifer's mark.

It didn't necessarily get better, but you were snarled at less by those who didn't want you there and that was enough to count it as a positive.

You press your hands against the marble of the balcony and let out another sigh. Didn't this just prove you were also putting pressure on Lucifer? Ontop of what he already had?

No. You weren't about to be a dead weight to your demon.

With how often Lucifer took care of you? And how much he said he treasured you? No! You refused to be a burden to him!

Shaking off the sadness you take in two deep breaths before humming and thinking of a way to possibly repay it back to him. You two dancing at Diavolo's party would be a bit too much for guests--so maybe you could dance here?

Yes. Yes!

You grin and put your hands up as if you were with a partner, doing your best in imitating the basic waltz steps that Lucifer had taught you. Surprising him by offering to dance outside, with the moon shining down on you two as you thanked him for all he had done!

Best idea you've had this whole cultural exchange, really.

You laugh and spin around but a barrier stops you from making a full spin, hands grabbing your shoulders and keeping you in place.

"Are you enjoying the party, Master?"

Perfect! He had finished!

"Lucifer! I had an idea! How about we--"

The hairpin catches your attention first, the ornament being just as beautiful as close as it was at a distance yet speckled with something red against its shiny gold leaves as Lucifer held it up to you--

"Lucifer!"

You push the hairpin away from your face as Lucifer smiles and leans into your touch, your left hand cupping the side of his face that had been sprinkled with the most blood. Your eyes go down to his collar and gasp when you see angry, red lines running from under his chin all the way to his collarbone, making his black shirt look even darker with the blood it was now absorbing.

And yet he didn't seem panicked, just smiling calmly as he holds your hand and presses it against the harsh wounds.

"MC."

"Lucifer, we need to get you some help! We--We need to get Barbatos or Diavolo! Oh my stars you're bleeding so much--!'

"MC."

"What happened! Is anybody else hurt? Why didn't you call for me--!"

You yelp when you feel Lucifer pressing your hands against the wound, the blood feeling wrong against your hand and skin but it does help from feeling the angry ridges from where the skin had been ripped.

"Do I look in pain?"

No. And that's what worried you the most.

"You...you don't but--"

"Believe me, these wounds are more than welcomed. Especially when they are a sign of how I protected you."

He keeps your hand pressed against his wound, pressing it closer and closer until you were sure that the tingling sensation in your hand was the feeling of it lightly burning your skin.

"The Duchess was just a pest as I thought but one good thing came from her corpse. I figured if a demoness that could run her tongue for so long didn't need her head to begin with."

The words don't hit you until you feel the hairpin pressed against your hair, feeling it clip into place as Lucifer adjusted it just a bit.

"No matter if short or long...I think this hairpin suits you best."

Lucifer smiles as he wraps one arm around your waist, keeping your hand trapped against his wound while he pressed a kiss to the tears now forming around the corner of your eyes.

"Lucifer…"

"It's alright, Master, no need to thank me with your words. This should have been expected of me in the beginning..."

He smiles as he takes your other hand and places it on his shoulder, gently guiding you through the steps you had danced by yourself as his lips move from your eyes to your own trembling ones.

"Although it would be a shame if I had to go after another duke or duchess all to seek out my master's praise...it would be a hassle for Barbatos to clean up…"

Lucifer smiles as your lips quickly press against his, your entire body trembling against him as he continues to guide you through your little dance. How awful, you were probably cold from standing outside so long…

He'd be a waste of a demon if he didn't warm his master up, but he guessed that it would be appropriate to look for a private room first.

No need to let the pests see how cutely his Master cried for him.

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