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zenaep · 3 months

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iv. dolly

see all chapters here tags: fem! reader, reader is a performer in a speakeasy, jealousy, possessiveness, alastor does not know how to interpret love, or maybe he does, in his own twisted way, roadkill used as a symbolism, gorey descriptions of love, murder the song she sings is 'roxie' from chicago

˚୨୧₊♱

"Hey!" Charlie's voice rang out as she spotted Mimzy making her way towards the hotel entrance. The blonde froze, casting a nervous glance behind her to see the demon princess rapidly approaching with a worried look that she mistook for anger.

With practiced ease, the blonde put on a fake frown, pressing her hand over her chest. "Oh, Charlie! I'm so sorry for the trouble last night, sugar! I'll pay—"

"No, no! I'm not here for that," Charlie waved her hands with a smile, seemingly oblivious to the slump of relief on Mimzy's shoulders. "Are you leaving so soon? The hotel wouldn't mind taking you in!"

Caught off guard by Charlie's unexpected offer, Mimzy grimaced. She hesitated, opening her mouth before shutting it as she struggled to find the right words. "Oh! Well…you see…"

A laughing track, sounding like it was filtered through a radio, echoed through the air, and Mimzy turned to the source to find Alastor towering over her with his signature grin.

"I don't think redemption is quite her style," Alastor's chipper voice rang out. His clawed hand reached for Mimzy’s hair, plucking a feather from her headpiece. In his hands, the pink ornament erupted into flames. "Frankly, I have my doubts she could even be redeemed at all!"

Horrified, Mimzy watched as her feather fell to the floor in ashes, her hand instinctively reaching for the charred remnants.

"Alastor," Charlie glared at him before turning her attention back to Mimzy. "We believe in redemption for everyone. It's not about what you were; it's about what you choose to be now. We'll be here to support you every step of the way."

"Thanks, sugar," Mimzy forced a smile, waving her hand around daintily. She glanced at the entrance with a subtle wish for escape, playing up the nice act while Alastor continued to watch the scene unfold with a cryptic smile. "But radio here is right. I don't really think it's my style. Different strokes for different folks. Plus, I've got a business to run!"

Alastor hummed, twirling his microphone cane around in his hand. The crimson glow of his eyes narrowed at her as he chuckled. "You couldn't possibly mean that wooden box of debauchery you call a club, right?"

"My 'wooden box of debauchery' has more character than any joint in that city," Mimzy grit her teeth together in a smile, barely concealing her frustration.

As another argument began to form, a throat clearing interrupted the flow, capturing Mimzy's attention. A pink glove slowly rose from the couch and Angel Dust pushed himself off the furniture, sitting up with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"If I may~" Angel Dust chimed in. "You saying you, ah, got a bar? I'm always up for checking out new places. Mind if I swing by sometime, tits?"

Mimzy beamed and sent Alastor a smug look, making her way toward Angel Dust. She reached into her chest, pulling out a card with a flourish. "Of course, kitten! Here's all our information. You'll find us in the Vee district. Feel free to swing by anytime. And don't forget to bring a friend!"

Angel Dust took the offered card, a grin forming on his face. "Bring a friend, huh? You got it, toots."

˚୨୧₊♱

The Vee district, designated as the entertainment hub of Pride, was dazzled with bright neon lights and tall towering buildings adorned with blazing billboards. The streets pulsed with life, where every ten steps brought you face-to-face with street performers desperately vying for attention, hoping to catch the eyes of industry scouts. The message was clear – fame was the ticket to success. Performers were everywhere, found in rundown bars, neon nightclubs, and costly theaters catering to the insatiable appetites of the elite.

Mimzy's Lounge, nestled down east on one of the city's worse-off streets was no fancy stage. The building, weathered and worn, seemed to barely hold itself together. The exterior bore the scars of years gone by, with cracked windows, peeling paint, and near-rotting wooden walls. While it may not have been on the standards of the elite, to the poor and downtrodden, it was the best piece of entertainment they could afford.

Inside, the dim lighting of the bar did little to conceal the stains and cracks that adorned the floor and ceiling. Tables and chairs, mismatched, were arranged haphazardly. The air hung heavy with the smell of cheap perfume, wrapping around the audience—a motley crew of lost souls. On the stage, a couple of scantily clad showgirls were performing a dance routine, or at least their movements vaguely resembled one. The quality of the performance didn't seem to matter to the audience, who, hungry for any form of entertainment, welcomed the spectacle with open arms.

Seated discreetly in the back booths, Angel and Cherri had drawn their curtains tight, creating a cocoon of privacy amid the bustling buzz and thumping music in the club.

"…And check this out – Alastor is hitched," Angel Dust spat out the last word as if it were poison. His face caught the warm, bright lights spilling into their booth, slipping through the small gap in the middle of the curtains. He sipped from his drink, a glint in his eyes. "And the owner here's got some serious dirt on his missus or somethin' like that."

"That why you dragged me to this hellhole? Knew it," Cherri snorted, taking a sip of her cocktail, the sweet and tangy flavors doing little to mask the less-than-pleasant ambiance. "Couldn't believe you'd even want to step into a place like this."

"You know I can't resist a bit of gossip, and where else can you find more gossip than in a joint run by a gal who's got the goods on Alastor himself?" Angel grinned, his golden tooth flashing as he reclined in his torn red chair. "Hell. I bet anyone else would do what I'm doin'. I mean, who wouldn't be tearin' these walls down just to catch a glimpse of the Radio Demon's wife?"

Cherri Bomb let out a throaty chuckle. "Well, you're bloody right there."

A sudden blast of music echoed through the air, prompting Angel Dust to scramble out of his seat and poke his head out from behind the curtain. The previous performers stepped off the stage, making way for the upcoming act. He caught sight of a familiar pudgy figure sauntering onto the stage and hastily turned his head back to the booth, meeting Cherri's amused face. "It's startin'!"

“Welcome, all you devils and darlings, to the Dollhouse Lounge!” Mimzy's voice boomed, and the lights gracefully dimmed to focus on her. The hum of conversation dwindled, the audience's attention now on the stage. “It's the moment you've all been waiting for! The last act of the night… Dolly, the living doll!"

With Mimzy's spirited introduction, the claps and cheers crackled in the air. In an instant, the lights plunged into darkness, leaving Angel to flit his gaze across the smoke-hazed stage, hungry for a glimpse of what was to come. Suddenly, a surge of stage lights sliced through the lingering smoke, akin to a celestial burst, revealing your silhouette with a large signage that spelled out your name in bold, red letters.

Wearing a lovely smile, you spread your arms wide, catching everyone's attention as you sang the first note, voice sultry and dripping sweet like honey. "The name on everybody's lips is gonna be Dolly."

"That's his wife?" Cherri gawked behind Angel, her jaw dropping in disbelief. "Are you sure we got the right girl?"

"Hell, I'm just as surprised as you are," Angel shot back, an equally dumfounded look on his face.

"The lady raking in the chips Is gonna be Dolly," your voice echoed, the melody carrying through the lounge as you strolled towards the stage's platform. The rhythmic beat of the music vibrated against the soles of your heels while the spotlight dutifully trailed after you, its gentle glow caressing the curves of your glittery dress, casting glimmers of silver and gold that danced across the dimly lit bar.

"I'm gonna be a celebrity. That means somebody everyone knows," you continued, sauntering around the stage. As you swirled and twirled, your silhouette became a blur of sequins and shimmer. The spotlight then intensified its focus on you, highlighting the glint in your eyes. "They're gonna recognize my eyes. My hair, my teeth, my boobs, my nose."

"Fuck," Angel muttered under his breath. As you moved closer to the end of the platform, he could finally get a good look at you.

Shimmery blue eyeshadow graced your lids, while a dark blush adorned the apples of your cheeks, complementing the red lipstick you had on. Your dress, a dazzling ensemble of sequins, was not only radiant but also provocatively low-cut, teasingly revealing a glimpse of your chest before gracefully dropping to your knees. Dark silk stockings, sensually tracing the contours of your legs, were held by garters. At your feet, bedazzled red Mary Janes sparkled like jewels, catching the light with every step you took.

As Angel thought back to his conversation with Mimzy, he found himself agreeing with her earlier comments. You really were a living, breathing doll.

"From just some dumb canni-bal’s wife. I'm gonna be Dolly," you continued, seamlessly weaving your magic, each lyric a spell that bound the audience. "Who says that murder's not an art?"

With a spin, you twirled around the stage, a ditzy grin on your face, the sequins on your gown catching the light like stars. "And who, in case she doesn't hang, can say she started with a bang! Dolly Heart!"

As the final notes of the song echoed through the venue, the room erupted in applause and cheers. But, the curtain wasn't falling yet. Standing backstage, Mimzy let the moment linger, reveling in the prolonged applause. After all, happy customers always tipped generously.

On cue, bills and coins descended like a storm, hitting the floor with a crisp sound that mixed beautifully with the cheers of the delighted audience. There was so much that the shower of currency formed a makeshift carpet beneath your feet.

Angel Dust, still peeking from behind the curtain, wore a smirk of approval. "Not bad, not bad at all," he whispered to Cherri, who nodded in agreement.

Standing on the stage, bathed in the lingering glow of the spotlight, you held your pose, chest heaving up and down. A demure smile graced your lips as soft, appreciative nods and fluttering eyelashes accompanied each gaze you cast toward the audience. Tonight's turnout was impressive, though not unexpected given your agreement to perform one of your most famous songs after a prolonged hiatus.

"Dolly" was a beloved crowd-pleaser and the one song you hated with a passion.

The spotlight continued to shine relentlessly in your eyes, causing a painful burn in your irises. The deafening applause felt like a relentless assault on your senses as each clap echoed loudly in your ears. From the speakers, the music blasted in waves, the volume rattling your bones. Showbusiness, a constant companion in both your living and afterlife, had become an achingly familiar yet tormenting cycle.

In the corner of your eye, you saw Mimzy step up onto the stage to address the crowd. "Thank you, my lovely devils and darlings! Wasn't Dolly simply darling tonight?" she squealed through the mic.

The crowd erupted in cheers and applause once more, the energy in the room reaching a fever pitch. Mimzy basked in the adoration, her grin widening as she soaked in the success and the money. Oh, the money.

"I know you loved that!" she laughed. She leaned into the microphone, her voice turning into a whisper "Of course, you all do. I wrote it."

"Now, let's give our star her rest. Dolly, my dear, take a bow!" Mimzy's voice rang out, signaling the end of the performance. Relieved, you bowed before making your way towards the curtains as the heavy fabrics began to descend. After blowing a few more kisses to the audience, you slipped backstage, letting the smile fade from your face. As you vanished from view behind the curtain, Angel caught the look on your face.

It was a look he knew all too well.

"She looks perfectly happy without him," Cherri remarked with a casual shrug. "I mean, look at 'er. She's the star of the show. You think she left on purpose?"

Angel furrowed his brows, deep in thought. It didn't make no sense to him.

Why would you willingly perform under Mimzy's control when Alastor, with his power, could easily get you out of here? Contract or no contract, that radio freak could tear Mimzy apart like a hot knife through butter.

The spider's attention shifted towards the audience, and his gaze locked onto Mimzy, who was engrossed in conversation with some VIPs. The sight of her triggered a scowl to etch itself onto his features.

"I don't think so. There's more to it," Angel's eyes narrowed, the wheels in his head turning, "I've seen that look before."

"What look?" Cherri raised an eyebrow.

"That trapped look," Angel said, his gaze following Mimzy as she continued her animated conversation, oblivious to the scrutiny. "Before the curtains dropped, I saw it on her."

"Shit, Angie," Cherri's gaze followed Angel's, and she pursed her lips. "You think she's playing the part or really stuck?"

Angel Dust stood up straight, now opening the curtains wide as his eyes never left Mimzy. "I don't know, but I'm gonna find out."

Both of them took their time, patiently waiting until Mimzy stepped away. Once the blonde demon finally made her way backstage, they discreetly followed her lead, slipping behind the curtains with her.

The busy backstage corridor welcomed them with an assortment of items – costumes, props, and stage decor – scattered in chaotic disarray. Angel's eyes wandered around, and he spotted Mimzy in a far corner, sitting atop worn cardboard boxes. Nudging Cherri, he gestured for both of them to move closer.

"Hey~ How's it going, blondie?" Angel purred, leaning against a nearby prop, his tone dripping with a sickly sweet tone. Mimzy looked up, confused before she recognized him and flashed a wide grin.

"Hey, you! You're that spider fella from the hotel!" She tapped her chin in thought narrowing her eyes at him. "Uhm, Angle Dust was it?"

"It's Angel Dust," he corrected, a twitch of annoyance in his eye.

"Uh-hah, that's nice," Mimzy seemed unfazed, continuing to count her money, her legs swinging back and forth absentmindedly. "You like the show? Oh, who am I kidding, of course, you did!"

Angel Dust crossed his arms with a chuckle. "Yeah, about that. That girl, Dolly. She's quite a number, ain't she?"

"Oh, yeah. She's my little masterpiece," Mimzy smirked. "Met her before she had any of this."

"Let's cut the fuckin' crap," Cherri rolled her eyes, tired of dancing around the conversation. The cyclops leaned down to Mimzy's height, scowling into her face and driving her finger into the blonde's chest. "I'll say it straight. What's the deal with her? You got some strings attached?"

Mimzy paused and glanced up at Cherri with an arched eyebrow before turning to Angel and laughing tensely. "Your friend here sure is forward, Ankle! Oh, sweethearts, Dolly's here because she wants to be."

Angel Dust shot Cherri a glance, a silent conversation passing between them. "Yeah?"

"The girl signed a contract willingly," Mimzy explained with a casual shrug. "She gets what she wants, and I get what I want. It's a fair exchange."

Angel's eyes narrowed, his skepticism evident. "Contract? What's in it for her, then? Why willingly perform in this dump when she could easily be the star anywhere else?"

The blonde sent Angel a glare for his dig at her lounge but still answered him. "Dolly owes me something. A little debt she's paying off with her charming performances. A contract might sound sinister, but it's just showbusiness, furs." Mimzy leaned back, folding her arms, her expression daring the two of them challenge her further.

"Bull. She sold you her soul to dance and sing?" Cherri scoffed, taking the challenge.

"No, no, there was no soul exchange involved," Mimzy rolled her eyes. "Just a contract. But still binding, magical, and all of that stuff."

"Now, can you two get out of my hair?" Mimzy huffed, shooing them away with a dismissive wave. "I've got a lot of things to run here!" She returned to counting her money, clearly eager to be rid of the unwanted attention.

"Let's go, Cherri," Angel said with a look of defeat, pushing himself off the prop he had been leaning on.

Once the two of them finally stepped out of the establishment, the spider groaned to himself, now finding himself with more questions than answers.

˚୨୧₊♱

You strolled behind the weighty curtains, the backstage area buzzing with the rush of staff, the shouts of managers, and the lingering presence of performers idly awaiting their cues. Navigating through the organized chaos, you directed your steps towards your private dressing room—a sanctuary away from the glaring spotlight.

You threw the door open, entering quickly and slamming it shut behind you, the sudden silence a stark contrast to the clamor and racket outside. Flicking a light switch, the dim glow of a single, flickering bulb hanging from the ceiling revealed the room's worn-out glamour. A vanity cluttered with makeup, costumes haphazardly thrown on a worn-out sofa, and a cracked mirror that had seen better days—all were familiar sights.

"I would kill for a glass of whiskey," you murmured to yourself, the weariness of the performance settling in. Rolling your head and groaning as you heard a satisfying crack, you added, "or maybe a whole bottle of it."

Kicking off your heels, you let the cool floor cradle your skin, leaving the discarded shoes in a dusty corner to rest. Seated at the vanity, the chaotic world beyond the backstage curtains ceased to exist. The gentle glow of the vanity lights exposed the weariness in your eyes as you wiped away your mascara and dusted off the remnants of glitter from your skin. While removing your earrings, the shimmer of your wedding ring caught your eye.

A frown tugged at your lips, the subtle ache of longing surfacing.

You missed your husband.

With a sigh, you continued removing your earrings before tossing them onto your vanity. Seeking to ease the edge, you reached for a whiskey bottle on a nearby dresser, grabbing a glass and pouring yourself a drink. The golden liquid glimmered in the subdued light as you took a sip, the warmth of the alcohol coursing through you.

"C̵h̶e̸r̷?̷"̸

A static rumble of a radio, like thunder, jolted you mid-drink, causing the liquid to catch in your throat. Coughing and sputtering for a while, you scrambled to collect yourself before turning behind you. Your gaze landed on the desk table where your radio sat. The crackling static continued, accompanied by a familiar voice and distorted sounds.

Alastor.

Grabbing a cloth to wipe yourself, you rushed to the desk and grabbed the old radio in your hands. The radio was a faded, worn red with yellowed dials, and its antennas were visibly broken, held up together with scraps of tape. Your contract with Mimzy did not allow you to meet with Alastor or his shadows for as long as you were under her, but that didn't mean you couldn't communicate with Alastor in other ways.

With trembling hands, you carefully adjusted the dials, aligning them to the familiar frequency that bridged the gap between you two. Your heart thrummed in your chest, head almost dizzy from anticipation. The distorted voices began to clear, and Alastor's distinctive voice cut through the static, a lifeline in the abyss.

"Cher, my dear, are you there?" Back in his room at the hotel, Alastor spoke through his mic, awaiting your response. He was sitting by the large windows, bathed in the dim glow of the Ring of Pride's lights. The hues painted a lovely ambiance against his skin, highlighting the contours of his sharp features as he reclined against a plush couch.

Heavy silence lingered for a while as you felt your throat closing up. Without realizing it, you began crying, your sobs echoing through Alastor's microphone.

"Yes, Al," you choked out between sobs, your hands gripping the surface of the radio tightly, nails scratching against the peeling paint. "I'm here. I missed you."

Alastor listened to your tearful voice through the crackling static, his shoulders tense as his claws clenched against his microphone handle. Your vulnerable confession hung heavily in the air, and he felt a storm stirring within him. Unsure of what to do with these emotions, he could only sit there and listen to you weep.

From the busiest street in Pentagram City to the darkest alleyways, Alastor's reputation as a bloodthirsty killer was infamous, and he reveled in it. The idea that an overlord like him could entertain genuine care for someone sounded preposterous. Throughout his human days and beyond, Alastor never felt such sentiments.

Decades ago, he only needed himself. However, ever since you entered his life, he became a man possessed.

The moment he first laid eyes on you, you were a vision of beauty with bright eyes, flushed cheeks, and he couldn't deny that he felt an inkling of fondness for you right from the start. But that was all it ever was—nothing more, nothing less.

Then, seemingly out of nowhere, he couldn't help but notice that the glow in your smile was brighter, lovelier. And despite his usual tendency to dismiss such details, Alastor couldn't look away. Not anymore.

You held him captive, like a deer frozen in the blinding glare of oncoming headlights. He was aware the collision was imminent, yet it still caught him off guard; A torrent of emotions crashing into him like a speeding truck, leaving him with twisted limbs and cracking bones, antlers torn from his head, fur matted and bloodied, with his heart exposed, beating vulnerably before you.

In the months that followed, Alastor remembered how foreign the feeling to him was. He didn't want to understand it, refused to, but each attempt to rip those festering emotions out of his chest only left him bleeding.

Looking back, Alastor finds himself incapable of fathoming how life was bearable before you entered it. The mere thought of returning to a time when you weren't present is something he refuses to entertain. The person he used to be, before he stepped into that speakeasy, now feels like a distant stranger, a mere shadow of the man he has become with you in his life.

The static in his thoughts subsided, in tandem with your crying and sobbing dying down. A prolonged pause lingered before Alastor interrupted the silence. "Cher, you know I'd bring you out of that wretched place if you just said the word."

A bitter laugh escaped your lips as you wiped away tears with your trembling fingers. "You tell me that every time we have these calls. Do you not get tired of it?"

"Never," Alastor hummed. The sound of your laughter, even tinged with bitterness, momentarily lifted the heavy burden that his heart carried. "The offer will always be up, darling!"

"You know I can't, Al. Me and her have history together," your voice paused, cracking with emotion. "And I still feel guilty."

Alastor sighed heavily, frustration dancing in his eyes. He always struggled to understand why you felt indebted to Mimzy, why guilt still clung to your decisions like a persistent shadow.

To him, Mimzy deserved the consequences. Despite his constant offers to free you from her grasp, you remained steadfast in your decision to complete your contract

"Very well, dear," Alastor's smooth voice crackled through the radio, weaving a comforting presence into the air as you moved back toward your vanity, taking a seat. "Now, enough of these melancholic talks. Tell me, how was the show tonight?"

"Mimzy had me perform 'Dolly' again," you remarked, a crooked smile playing on your lips. "She's well aware that I despise that song. I mean, really? Have you ever taken a look at the lyrics? It's a bit on the nose, don't you think?"

As your frustrations spilled out, Alastor stood from his seat, staff in hand. Placing it beside his closet, he attentively listened to your words, occasionally responding with chuckles and interjections. He slipped off his monocle, unbuttoned his suit jacket, and then his vest, revealing a well-tailored red undershirt that clung to his lean frame.

"I find the cannibal's wife line rather charming," Alastor smirked, and though he couldn't see it, you rolled your eyes in response.

"Of course you'd enjoy that part," you scoffed, mirroring Alastor's movements on the other side. Shedding the bedazzled dress, you opted for more comfortable attire, draping yourself in a robe.

"What's not to like? It shows the audience that you're my darling wife," Alastor quipped with a smug tone.

"Bushwa. They don't even know it's you. And I don't think anyone thinks highly of some poor fool shackled to a gaudy singer," you snorted. With the radio in tow, you began to pack your belongings into your purse.

"Don't be ridiculous," Alastor's laugh rumbled against the speakers. "My dear, being 'shackled' to you is the most delightful form of imprisonment."

"Such a sap," you scoffed, unable to suppress the smile that spread across your face. Shouldering your purse, you made your way towards the door, ready to leave. However, a sudden memory of a conversation with Mimzy surfaced.

"By the way, did you know Mimzy was planning to have me perform on some talk show?" you shared with Alastor while locking the door to your dressing room. A furrow appeared on your brow as the backstage lights played with shadows, casting a pensive expression on your face. "What was it again… Oh! Yes! Box-2-Nite."

A sudden screech from the radio erupted, its harsh sound reverberating in the hallway. Luckily, no one was around at this hour, and you cringed at the unexpected disturbance. Glaring at the box, you raised your brow. "You scared the living daylights outta me."

Alastor stayed silent for a while, claws digging into the cloth of his coat, ripping the fabric. With a snap of his head to the side, he dropped it to the floor and moved toward his staff, his shadows playing on the intricate patterns of the carpet beneath his feet.

"Do you perhaps mean… Vox-2-Nite?" His voice, usually smooth, carried an edge.

"Is that the name? I thought you hated telev—Oh. Ohhh..." As you ascended to the higher floors of the building, a realization swept over you.

Alastor's relationship with Vox was complicated. It didn't take a genius to see that. If the ceaseless back-and-forths on broadcasts, the turf wars that had casualties matching mass-extinction events, and the hushed gossip circulating among the other performers were anything to go by.

“Small world,” you chuckled, strolling down the hallway that led to the performers' rooms, the echo of your footsteps blending with the distant murmur of conversation. “I’m guessing I shouldn't take her up on the offer?”

"Absolutely not," Alastor practically snarled out, venom dripping from his tongue. The radio in your hand crackled and buffered, a faint golden glow emanating from the dials. "That pompous piece of shit television is nothing but a clout-chasing, mediocre host flitting between this fad and another on his little picture show podcasts."

“I know, love.” With a swift turn of a doorknob, you opened the door to your flat. "I wasn’t… planning… to…”

Your words trailed off, lingering in the air, as you entered the room. Your eyes widened in awe, captivated by the sight of a bouquet of white roses gracefully adorning your bed.

"Alastor," you spoke into the radio, your voice filled with genuine warmth. "Did you send me roses?"

Back in the hotel, Alastor, settled back into his plush couch. The fiery embers of his anger melting away like a fleeting shadow, replaced by the realization that you had discovered his gift.

A soft chuckle came from the radio, "Guilty as charged, cher. "

Your heart fluttered, and you sank onto the bed, dropping the radio on your mattress and taking the bouquet into your hands. The delicate petals felt soft against your fingers as you admired their beauty. White roses, unlike red ones, were so scarce it was difficult to get a hold of.

"Alastor, this is… wonderful," you spoke into the radio, smile so wide your cheeks almost hurt. "Why—How did you even—How did you even manage to find these?"

"Oh, I pulled a few strings," your husband grinned before chuckling, "and a few limbs too."

Your laughter intertwined with his and Alastor listened fondly, finding solace in the melody of your delight.

The day you inked that deal with Mimzy marked the onset of an agonizing pain he had never experienced before. The thought of leaving your sorrowful self under the wretched contract of that avaricious woman had incited a frenzied rage within him, leading to weeks of unbridled slaughters on the streets of hell.

The blood he spilled onto the sidewalks left a stain on the concrete that lasted months.

Fortunately for you and him, the ordeal was nearing its end. Just one more year remained until Alastor could finally reunite with you. After enduring decades of this agony, an additional year seemed like mercy.

"You like it, cher?" Alastor's voice dropped an octave lower, the satisfaction evident in his tone, pleased to bring happiness to your moment.

"Yes," you laugh, cradling the bouquet in your hands. "I like it very much."

˚୨୧₊♱

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zenaep · 4 months

Text

Kisses For The Pain

Warnings: Spoilers for Artem’s SR card “In Sickness or in Health”, always consult a professional if you believe you are seriously ill

Summary: Harmony’s day starts out rough, and as the hours go by, it only gets worse. Unsure of what’s going on Artem takes her to the hospital for treatment. Perhaps it’s because she’s unwell, but the old habits Harmony’s worked so hard to squash start to slip back in.

The heels of my wedges clicked against the floor tiles as I made my way towards the teacher’s lounge. The children wouldn’t be arriving for another hour but I always made it a habit to show up early to prepare the classroom for the day. Getting the lesson plan and activities ready was much easier without small children running around.

Because of the silence, each step made my shoes louder, sending a small shock to my temples with each click. My body felt heavier then usual, the lights were bothering my eyes and an iced coffee, which I usually had with me by now, was making my stomach turn just thinking about it.

Pushing the door to the lounge open, I found Principal Hadley, or Dale as many of us called him by, and our secretary, Wendy Voss. They had both been working for the school for over a decade now and the day they retired would be a sad day for all.

“Good morning.” I greeted, trying to fight off the bright lights as I threw my purse into one of the lockers.

“No coffee today, Harmony? That’s not a good sign.” Dale said, sipping from his mug.

“You look a little pale, dear. Is everything alright?” Wendy asked, visibly concerned.

Forcing a smile, I nodded and clicked the locker shut. “I just have a little headache. I took some medicine already, I’m sure it will go away soon.”

Easily brushing their worries off, I left the lounge and headed towards classroom K-1. The walls in this room were painted like a safari, animal decals of lions, elephants, monkeys and other Savannah animals spread out around the room. Four small, round tables were placed not too far from my desk, a total of fourteen short chairs accompanying them. Two tables had three chairs while the remaining two had four. Each chair had a little chalk board attached to the back with a student’s name written on it.

Like I did every Monday morning, I erased the names and assigned new seat placements. Not only did the kids seem to enjoy a scavenger hunt for their new seats, but it encouraged them to make friends with everyone.

Logan, Abigail, Mackenzie, Issac… My brain felt a shock each time the chalk scribbled across the board. The next tasks that followed weren’t much easier. I didn’t realize how long everything was taking until the bell rang obnoxiously above my head. I groaned and rubbed my temples, trying to soothe the ache as I headed towards the door to welcome the children.

“Good morning.” I greeted the little ones with a high five as they charged excitedly into the classroom one by one.

Once every student was accounted for, I closed the door and started the morning activities. Each Monday started with a game of ‘I did’ where the students and myself got to share one exciting thing we did this weekend. After that, I handed out single sided sheet of paper that had five words with missing letters. Spelling practice for their spelling test on Thursday. Usually the spelling tests were scheduled for Friday, but with our field trip to the local museum that day, I moved it to Thursday.

“Excuse me, Miss. Castel!” A high-pitched, girly voice called out to me, volume a little too loud for indoors.

I squeezed my eyes shut briefly to combat the pain before turning around. “Let’s use our indoor voices please, Laura. What would you like?”

She pointed to the boy sitting across from her. “Ethan picked his nose!”

“I did not! I scratched it!”

A sigh slipped past my lips. The first two hours of my day dragged by, and when the playground supervisor came to collect the kids for recess I sat at my desk and put my head down, basking in the silence. The wood felt nice and cool against my forehead.

A soft knock let me know someone was there. “Just checking in. How are you feeling?”

Hearing Principal Hadley’s voice, I automatically straightened up. “I’m alright-”

A dizzy spell made me waver as I stood. I collapsed back into the chair and gripped the edge of the desk as to not topple over. The small effort that took had me out of breath.

“Goodness, Harmony, you look even worse. Go home for the day. I’ll keep the children entertained until Wendy can find a substitute teacher.” Dale said.

“But to find one after school hours have already begun-”

He held up a hand to stop me. “We’ll make do. Besides, you really shouldn’t be around the little ones if you’re feeling unwell.”

He was right. My symptoms were going beyond a headache at this point and children don’t have the same strength in their immune system as an adult does.

“I’m so sorry.” I said, standing up again but much slower this time.

Dale smiled kindly. “Don’t be. Go get some rest, and have Wendy call a cab for you. You shouldn’t drive in this state.”

Nodding, I thanked him and left to retrieve my purse from my locker.

~~~~~~~~~~

The ride home was brutal. There was a surprising amount of traffic for the middle of the day, cars were honking impatiently and the cab driver made too many sharp turns to count. My stomach was in my throat by the time I got out and I was left impressed that I didn’t vomit in the backseat.

The elevator ride was too far too long, the hallways of the apartment building seemed to have doubled in size and just as I stepped through the front door, just when I thought I could collapse and sleep, my phone rang. If it wasn’t the tune I set for my boyfriend, I wouldn’t have answered.

“Hey, Artem.” I said, trying to sound cheerful as I tossed my purse on the kitchen counter and stumbled towards the couch. “How’s work going? Everything okay?”

“Yes, everything’s fine.” The sound of his voice made me feel a little better. “I’m sorry to call while you’re at work, but I didn’t see you this morning and my messages have been going unanswered. I just wanted to make you were alright.”

Confused, I pulled the phone from my ear and went to my messages. Just as he said, there were several unread messages from Artem. The first was his usual good morning, followed by a request to see me later. The rest were all questions about my well being. Upon further investigation, I realized I forgot to turn the ‘do not disturb’ setting off.

“Harmony?” Artem’s voice came from the speaker.

“Sorry, I’m here.” Laying across the couch, I winced as another sharp pain ran through my head. “I forgot my phone was on silent. I’d love to go out later if you still want to.”

“Is something wrong? You don’t sound like yourself.”

Sighing, I decided to come clean. “I feel a little off, that’s all. I think it’s just a migraine but Principal Hayden sent me home early. I just got in.”

“Would you like me to bring you anything?”

I smiled a little, arranging one of the throw pillows comfortably under my head. “I’m okay. I took something already, I’m just gonna sleep it off.”

“Alright. Let me know if there’s anything you need me to bring home.”

“I will.” I remembered something then. “So where are you taking me later?”

His voice was so kind I could hear his gentle smile. “We’ll discuss that once you are feeling better. Get some rest.”

“Okay. I love you, Artem.”

“And I love you.”

Ending the call, I placed my phone on the coffee table and turned onto my side so my face was against the back cushions and closed my eyes. The silence in the apartment covered me like a blanket, and before long, I fell into a deep, uninterrupted sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~

The feeling of something touching my hair coaxed my eyes open. Fearing the worst, I whined and tried to swat his arm away, whimpering at the sharp shock of pain that ran through my head as I turned it.

The hand immediately retreated, settling on my arm instead and rubbing gentle circles onto my skin. “Harmony?”

That’s not Dustin’s voice.

Cracking my eyes open, I was met with an apartment I didn’t immediately recognize. The kitchen wasn’t supposed to be there, the furniture in the living room didn’t belong here, the couch I was laying on was far too soft to be the one I was used to. A face entered my line of sight, one with smooth skin, stunning blue eyes and a head of neat brown hair. His expression was one full of concern.

“Are you alright?” The man asked. “I apologize for touching your head without permission, but you weren’t responding to my attempts to wake you.”

Artem.

The name that came to mind brought with it recollection of the man’s identity. Artem’s my boyfriend now and we live together, though we each had our own bedrooms. He was still dressed in the suit he usually wore to work.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, glancing me over. “You look really pale. Have you been asleep this entire time?”

“I think so.” I mumbled, pinching the bridge of my nose and squeezing my eyes shut in attempt to fight off the pain. “The medicine didn’t work. Do we have anything stronger?”

Something rolled off the couch and onto the floor as I shifted. Artem, who was leaning over me, crouched to retrieve it. Another shock of pain almost made me miss the way his eyes widened.

“Harmony, how many of these have you had?” He asked in a calm but worried voice.

Not understanding what he was talking about, I glanced at the small bottle in his hand. The red label wrapped around the white bottle was the signature branding of a Pax Pharmaceutical’s painkillers.

Too sore to hold my head up any longer, I let it fall back onto the pillow. “I don’t know. I don’t even remember taking them.” I pushed the palms of my head against my temples. “My head hurts so bad, Artem.”

I heard him shuffling next to me. “I’m taking you to the hospital.”

“No, I just want to sleep.”

“A headache this bad isn’t normal, and we don’t know how many painkillers you’ve had. You might be on the verge of an overdose. Where’s your ID?”

Despite how crappy I was feeling, the logical part of my brain still seemed to be working. He was completely right, and the fact I didn’t remember waking up to take the pills is a huge red flag that something serious is going on.

Artem gathered whatever he needed to before helping me up off the couch. My head throbbed with each step I took but luckily I didn’t have to walk very far. The second we stepped into the hallway and locked the front door, Artem draped his coat over my shoulders and, being slow and gentle, lifted me off the ground. I clung to him as he carried me outside to where his car was parked, face buried in the side of his neck. The scent of pine clinging to his skin was comforting, easing my migraine the littlest bit.

Reaching the car, Artem set me down and guided my head to his chest, blocking out the chill of nighttime air as he unlocked and opened the door to the passenger side. I grunted uncomfortably as I eased into the seat, fumbling pathetically with the seatbelt.

“I got it.”

I sighed in response and dropped my hand into my lap, letting him buckle me in. “Thank you.”

Once the buckle clicked into place, he closed the door and walked around the front of the car to get to the driver’s seat. I closed my eyes and let my head rest against the cool window, trying to go back to sleep but it wouldn’t last long.

“Don’t fall asleep yet.” Artem said, placing a hand on my knee to get my attention. “Wait until we get to the hospital.”

I groaned and rolled my head along the head rest to face him. All the lights flashing by as the car moved was irritating my eyes. “Can you talk about something? I need a distraction.”

“A distraction…” He went quiet for a moment. “The Pax case we’ve been working on at the firm is in the process of being finalized.”

I, somehow, managed to breathe a small laugh. “Artem, I love you, but if you talk about work right now I really am going to fall asleep.”

“Sorry, I wasn’t sure what else to say.”

Could he be any sweeter? Even though we’ve been dating and living together for quite some time now, he never lost that shy side, cute awkward side.

If my head wasn’t in so much pain, I would have shaken it. “Don’t be, I was the one who put you on the spot like that.” Another short silence. “You never did end up telling me what you had planned this evening.”

“That’s right, I did mention taking you somewhere earlier.” Focusing on the road, he made a left turn before continuing. “A small street fair has been set up in South Stellis to raise money for a charity dedicated to funding schools in third world countries. You’re very active with such events, so I thought you would like to pay a visit.”

A weak smile tugged at my lips. “You’re right, I would have liked to go. Of all days to get sick, it had to be today. Is the event only for tonight?”

“I’m afraid so.”

A quiet sigh left my lips. “I’m sorry, Artem. You went out of your way to plan something and I ruined it.”

“There’s nothing for you to apologize for. You’ve done nothing wrong.” I felt the warmth of his hand suddenly cover one of my own. “We’re almost there.”

Thank god, because my stomach was starting to twist into a knot and the last thing I wanted was to get nauseous in his car. Not that I’ve eaten anything today, anyway.

Finally, the car came to a stop. Artem jumped out first, then came around to help me. He didn’t pick me up but did stay right by my side, walking slowly and allowing me to lean on him. The hand on my back, keeping me steady, was gentle but also firm and reliable.

The woman sitting at the front counter looked up as we approached. “Good evening. What seems to be going on?”

Artem, thankfully, spoke for me. It was rare for him to do so but considering the circumstances, it was reasonable. “Her head is in a lot of pain, and I’m not sure how many painkillers she took. She can’t remember, either.”

The woman handed him a clip board and after helping me fill it out, Artem and a nurse escorted me to an empty room. The doctor came in shortly after and after checking a few vital signs, sent me to have a CT scan and blood work done. The process was rather quick and before long, the doctor was coming back with a diagnosis.

“It looks like you have a mild concussion.” The older man said, adjusting his white coat as he sat in a chair in front of the computer.

“A concussion?” My boyfriend’s eyes widened a little, posture stock still.

“Have you hit your head at all recently, Miss. Castel?”

I squeezed my eyes shut as I tried to think. “Must of been from my fall at work. I slipped on the stairs the other day.”

“That would do it.” The doctor sighed and shook his head. “It’s always safer to be looked at after a fall like that, no matter how mild the injury may seem.” He glanced at the compute screen. “The dosage of painkillers we found in your system is high but not high enough for a major overdose risk. That type of painkiller is good for combating headaches but isn’t strong enough for a concussion. You’re lucky your boyfriend found you when he did.”

This isn’t the first time I’ve been scolded by a doctor, so I don’t think his tone left the impact it should have. “If it’s just a mild concussion, why does it hurt so bad?”

“You haven’t been resting properly. When was the last time you ate?”

Feeling Artem’s eyes on me, I got a little shy and looked down. “Yesterday night.”

The doctor sighed. “That would also be why. It’s common for people to experience headaches when they’re hungry.” He tapped away at the keyboard. “I’m going to set you up with a drip to your replenish vitamins and nutrients, then we can start reintroducing food back into your system. I don’t want to shock your body by filling your stomach instantly. I’m going to fill out a prescription, have your boyfriend pick it up for you while you rest.”

The doctor handed Artem a slip and sent us off to a different room. The transfusion room had several beds but all of them were empty. In fact, the hospital seemed rather quiet tonight.

“Thanks, Artem.” I said as he helped ease me down onto the cot closest to the nurse’s desk. “Why don’t you go home and get some rest? You’ve been working all day.”

He shook his head and lowered himself into the chair next to the bed. “I’m alright. I wouldn’t feel comfortable leaving you here alone.” Reaching an arm out, he gently took hold of my hand. Something resembling guilt was hidden in the depths of his eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me about your fall?”

Now it was my turn to show guilt. “It’s not that I hid it from you on purpose, I’m just used to dealing with pain so I didn’t even think about it. I mean, I’ve had headaches that bad before and they’ve always gone away…”

His eyes narrowed, the blue hues within them seeming to turn a darker shade. I knew the expression wasn’t directed at me, but it made my sense of guilt skyrocket. “How many concussions could you have had and not known…”

I gave his hand a squeeze. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”

A shake of his head cut me off. “No, I’m sorry. Now isn’t the time to bring up such things.”

A nurse approached just then, smiling warmly and greeting us with kind words as she hung the drip on the hanger. Artem let go of my hand so the nurse could inject the needle. The pinch made my flinch but it wasn’t too bad. The feeling of cold liquid entering my blood stream, however, was unpleasant.

When the nurse walked away, Artem spoke again. “Get some more sleep. I’ll be right here.”

The gentleness of his tone made my eyelids feel heavy all of a sudden. “You really should go home…”

He smiled but made no move to get up. Unable to resist anymore I let my eyes close and wiggled my fingers in attempt to get some feeling back in them. Something warm covered my hand just then, stopping them from moving.

“Be careful of your IV. Don’t move too much.” Artem’s voice was warmer then the blanket that was carefully draped over me.

The only response I could manage was a hum.

~~~~~~~~~~

My body felt a little less heavy as I regained consciousness. The first thing I noticed was that the needle for the IV was missing from my hand, suggesting someone had taken it out while I was sleep. The blanket that I thought was covering me wasn’t a blanket at all; in fact, it was a black coat belonging to the man still sitting next to the bed.

“You really stayed this entire time?” I asked, part of me in disbelief but also not.

Artem nodded. “How are you feeling?”

“Better. A little hungry, actually.”

He looked relieved. “That’s good. You’ll be able to eat soon.”

The same nurse from earlier returned with a second bag of IV fluids. Artem excused himself as she set up me up again, and when he returned, a second nurse was at his side.

“I have to step away for a little while. I’d call your brother to come stay with you but you mentioned he wouldn’t return from his trip until next week. So, I’ve asked this nurse to keep an eye on you.” He said, leaning over to press a kiss to my forehead. “I’ll return shortly.”

My cheeks grew hot as he turned and walked out of the room. The nurse smiled but didn’t comment anything about it, just left me with a hand warmer and said to call for her if I needed anything. Artem must have told her how cold my hand gets because of the drip.

About an hour later, as promised, my boyfriend returned carrying a black bento box. “You’re still awake? You really should be sleeping more to rest your brain.”

“I’ve slept so much I don’t feel tired anymore.” I said, morning the needle in my hand as I sat up.

I wanted to tell him how stressed I was feeling about the fact he refused to get rest himself, but I bit my tongue before the words could come out. He was clearly worried about me, was being more attentive then my last partner’s ever been, and the only way I knew how to respond to this display of love was guilt. The last thing I wanted to do was make him feel that he was making things worse.

Artem picked up on my mood before I could even try to hide it from him. “What’s the matter?”

Falling back into old habits, I forced a smile. “It’s nothing. I’m just hungry, is all.”

“That’s not the truth, is it?” When I didn’t respond, he carefully set the bento on the small table next to the bed and sat on the edge of the mattress, his hip brushing against my thigh. “Whatever it is you want to say, I’m listening.”

Taking his hand between mine, I drew circles on his palm with my thumb. It was more of an excuse to avoid looking him in the eye. “I just feel guilty that I’m causing so much trouble for you. You work so hard and now you’re putting aside your rest to take care of me. I’m… not used to it.”

He shifted a little closer. “May I touch your face?” Looking up, I nodded and leaned my cheek into the warmth of his palm. “Everything I do, I do because I choose to. Even if I did return home, I wouldn’t be able to rest comfortably knowing you were here alone. Being here in case you need something puts my mind at ease.”

Smiling, I leaned into his touch even more. “You’re too good for me.”

“That’s not it at all. You just haven’t been treated the way you always should have been.”

My heart skipped a few beats at his words. I opened my mouth to say something but the sound of my stomach obnoxiously growling rudely jumped into the conversation. Blushing, I turned my face away in attempt to hide from him.

Artem simply chuckled and reached for the bento. “Here. The nurses said it’s safe for you to eat now.”

Opening the box, the smell of freshly cooked food hit my nose and made my stomach growl a second time. The meal was simple: three fillets of salmon, broccoli and a small container with pecan and walnut bits off to the side.

“It smells delicious.” I said picking up the fork from the utensil slot. “Where’d you get this from?”

“I made it at home.” Artem replied, to which I looked up at him in shock. “Every restaurant differs in how they prepare their food, so I thought it would be safer to make it myself. These foods are known to help the brain heal, but it’s best to ensure they’re cooked for that purpose and not overloaded with unnecessary spices or oils.”

I was speechless. As we live together it’s not the first time he’s cooked for me but to stop by a store, go home and come wall the way back was more then I could wrap my head around. Something from the cafeteria should have sufficed, no?

“What’s wrong? Did I make something you don’t like?” He asked, looking a little shy.

I shook my head and immediately regretted doing so. “It’s not that. I’m happy you went out of your way to do all this for me. I don’t really know what to say.”

His shoulders relaxed. “You don’t need to say anything. I hope you enjoy it.”

Enjoy it I did. I was by no means a professional at describing and critiquing food but everything Artem cooked had a sense of home to it. It was a little nostalgic, making me think back to holidays at my parents house. The house was always rowdy, expected of a family with thirteen children, but when we all sat around the dinner table it was a different kind of atmosphere. It felt like we were close.

“That was really good, Artem. Thank you.” I said, leaning forward to kiss his cheek in gratitude.

His skin turned a light shade of pink. “You’re welcome.” The blush faded as he cleaned up. “I ran into the doctor on the way back. He wants to hold you overnight just in case you start to feel intense pain again.”

I sighed and slumped back against the bar at the head of the bed. “I’m gonna have to call the school and tell them I won’t be in tomorrow. I don’t know how they’re going to find a substitute on such short notice again…”

“I’ll take care of it. All you need to focus on right now is resting.”

I gave him a look. “I don’t suppose you’re going to go home and sleep now, are you? You have to work tomorrow.”

Artem stared at me silently. I guess that’s a ‘no’.

~~~~~~~~~~

My night in the hospital was, thankfully, uneventful. Concussions usually took between a week or two to heal, so although I was doing well enough to be released from the hospital I was restricted when it came to screen time and physical activity.

“Artem,” I giggled as he handed me a glass of water. “I have a concussion, not a broken leg. I can handle a walk to the kitchen.”

“Your injury is still recent. It’s best to minimize your activity to avoid aggravating it again.” He said, taking a seat next to me on the couch. “Do you have everything you need? Would you like me to get anything else for you before I leave?”

My heart swelled as I set the glass down on the coffee table. Pillows, blankets, healthy snacks with reach, Artem has made it so that I won’t have to get up for anything but the bathroom.

“There is one thing.” I said, shifting to sit sideways on the couch, legs tucked up comfortably on the cushion. Placing a hand on the back of his neck, I gently played with the shorter hairs. “Kiss me before you go?”

He blushed heavily but nevertheless, leaned close and softly pressed his lips to mine. I smiled against his mouth and returned the gesture. I hadn’t gotten to kiss him at all yesterday, and as much as I wanted to make up for it now, he really did have to get going. He’s already going into work late for my sake.

“Let me know what you want for dinner. I’ll bring it for you.” Artem said. “And if you start to feel sick again, call me.”

“I will.”

Pecking his lips once more, I watched him gather his things and leave. Adjusting my position again to lay across the couch, I started thinking about what I wanted for dinner. Knowing Artem, he’ll wait all day for my message.

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zenaep · 2 years

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Happy birthday

Original artist: 君楽研 (jun le yan)

Source ll Permission

🍒 Please do not repost 🍒

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zenaep · 3 years

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'how many hairstyles for mitsuya?'

ken wakui: yes

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zenaep · 3 years

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i made something

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zenaep · 3 years

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HOW TO BABYSIT TODDLER LUCIFER 101: THE BROTHERS' SPECIAL EDITION PART 2

A/N: I'm back! Sorry for the long wait. I'm stuck with writer's block in the middle of writing this but I'm okay now. Progress is great but a bit slow because I'm spending SO MUCH TIME watching the Olympics game instead of writing. Sorry ＞﹏＜

And I've decided to again make part 3 for this series because it's getting longer and I'm afraid it'll break my momentum of writing if I wrote longer than I expected. By breaking it apart, I can take a few breaks while you guys get to read the previous part without any hold.

So no more talking, please enjoy this next part. I apologise for any grammatical errors.

Genre: Fluff 🌼

Warning: Contains spoiler for Season 1 Obey Me!

You can read Part 1 here.

**************

Sitting on Satan's bedroom floor while munching on a biscuit, was Lucifer. He wiggled his feet and shook his head to let the bunny ears swung around his head, playfully slapping his own cheeks with the cotton fabric.

Satan clicked his tongue in annoyance and said, "Don't drop the crumbs!"

A few minutes before, Beel had dropped off Lucifer to Satan because he had to attend his fangol practice session. Before doing so, Beel gave Lucifer a few pieces of biscuits for him to snack on.

So now, Satan's stuck babysitting his eldest brother whom he's not so fond off.

After being scolded by Satan, Lucifer immediately stopped and looked down to his lap, slightly pouting.

And now Satan's slapped with guilt.

He let out a deep sigh and ran his fingers through his blond hair in frustration before saying, "Well, what do you want to do now?"

Lucifer brightened up and immediately ran towards one of Satan's bookshelf. He tiptoed a little and grabbed a book with a title, 'The Sleeping Bunny'.

"...Are you doing this on purpose?" Satan chuckled a little when Lucifer handed him the book.

The young Lucifer didn't reply. Instead, he tried lifting himself up into one of Satan's chair to take a seat. Lucifer slipped a few times and a groan left his mouth with a visible frown on his face.

Smiling to himself, Satan carefully picked the toddler up and placed him on his lap. "So you can see the pictures better," he claimed.

Feeling comfortable on Satan's lap, Lucifer pointed to the book cover and said, "This is a bunny." He then gently dropped his head to take the bunny ears in his hands and said, "Luci also a bunny."

Finding himself lost for words, Satan froze. It's taking everything in his will to not squeeze Lucifer's cheek and squeal because of his cute actions.

"But Satan not a bunny. Satan a cat!" the toddler tee-heed.

After another absence of reply from the fourth born and no indication of starting anytime soon, Lucifer leaned back against Satan's torso and looked up to observe Satan's face in worry, "Satan...? Satan don't want to read to Luci?"

Feeling himself turning redder every seconds, Satan cleared his throat and said, "You know what, I think it's better if we take a walk outside instead. You must want to run around, right? Let's go and see some cats while we're at it. Do you want to see the cats?"

No words can describe how elated the young one looked as he climbed down from Satan's lap and raced towards the door, absolutely ready to meet the creatures.

----------------------

"This one is named Mint because her eyes are as green as mint leaves." Satan watched his brother gently petted Mint's calico coloured fur with a smile.

Satan usually gave the stray cats some food and water behind the House of Lamentation so these cats were already comfortable around him, but to see Satan bringing another person with him was rare.

Of course the cats ran away at first but after seeing Satan poured their favourite kibbles, the cats slowly approached the Avatar of Wrath along with the unknown presence. The toddler in bunny onesies didn't strike them as someone with any harmful intentions. He even petted them gently on the head, along with some giggles. Within a minute, the cats already felt comfortable with Lucifer.

Deciding that it's okay to let Lucifer roam around by himself for a while, Satan continued pouring more cat foods for the cats and asked them how their day went. The melodious meows from them only made Satan chuckled.

The cats were really friendly with him and he's glad they're doing the same with Lucifer too. Nothing is perfect than surrounding yourself with friendly cats.

Satan could literally fill up the entire House of Lamentation with cats, but Lucifer would probably be against it. Not that he hasn't tried it before.

Mint also came by and rubbed her body against Satan's hand playfully.

"Mint? I thought you're playing with Lucif-" Satan turned to his side and found no signs of his brother, "-er...?"

A curious meow from Mint failed to calm Satan's beating heart, especially when he reminded himself how this area was quite close with the underground tomb area. And underground tomb means there's also...

"Lucifer!"

In a frantic state, Satan rushed to the underground tomb entrance. There, he saw a tiny figure running excitedly towards the greatest nightmare of a pet.

Lucifer's bunny ears from the onesies flopped up and down, dancing along to the rhythm of Lucifer's racing feet. The toddler extended his arms and hugged the tall, three-headed, dark furry creature.

"Puppy!" Lucifer said, closing his distance with the guard dog, paying no attention to Cerberus's deadly growls.

Suddenly, one of its head came closer and sniffed Lucifer curiously while the toddler just giggled and hugged the dog tighter.

Satan was ready to sweep Lucifer into his arm and just run for their lives should Cerberus showed any signs of attacking.

The atmosphere was very anxiety inducing. He wouldn't dare imagine what Cerberus will do to tiny Lucifer. And most importantly, it's his careless act in the first place that got Lucifer into this mess.

Sensing Satan's presence, Cerberus growled lowly and bared its fang, ready to attack.

"Cerberus, calm down... That's your owner... Don't attack him..." He took a slow step by step, fearing his presence would make Cerberus angrier.

Cerberus made a deep growl again and Satan was ready to grab Lucifer away from the hellhound. But the guard dog only growled at him while the other two heads licked Lucifer's face lovingly.

"Tickles... Hihihi," Lucifer laughed. His height was way too tiny when compared to Cerberus but he showed no fear to the dog.

Seeing Cerberus being on guard because of his presence, Satan decided to back down and let the dog enjoyed his owner's loving affection. Even though all he wanted to do was get the hell out of there, he wouldn't dare leave Lucifer unattended again.

"Satan? Satan is here? Look look! A puppy!" Lucifer turned over to face Satan.

"I'm pretty sure you don't call something as big as Cerberus a puppy," Satan mumbled under his breath.

"Lucifer, I think we should go now. You know, it's gonna be nighttime soon. And I'm pretty sure you're hungry. You're hungry, right? We should get ready for dinner. Come on, let's go," he tried closing his distance with Lucifer without alerting Cerberus.

"Oh... okay..." young Lucifer dejectedly bid his farewell to the hellhound and the dog also licked his owner's face several times before finally letting him go with Satan.

Satan, finally able to approach Lucifer without inciting any reaction from Cerberus, immediately lifted Lucifer up into his arm and made a dash towards the exit. His hold on the toddler tightened as he cursed to himself on how careless of a babysitter he'd been.

Fortunately for him, Cerberus recognised the Morningstar. Had the guard dog disregard the toddler as Lucifer, the worst case scenario could happen.

"Lucifer, never ever ever leave my side without telling me first, okay?"

"Okay!"

"...And don't tell the others about this."

"Okay!" Lucifer laid his head on Satan's shoulder lovingly, trying to ease Satan's anxiety.

---------------------------

Everything went smooth after that.

Satan was able to keep the incident with Cerberus a secret from the others and considering Lucifer is a very good toddler, he didn't mutter a word about it either.

Lucifer was then bathed by Beel and changed into a cute dark blue pajamas chosen by Asmo.

Supposedly, he'd be tired from all the adventures, but Lucifer didn't seem tired at all. He ran around the house, giggling and giving surprise hugs to his brothers' legs and proceed to run away again.

The brothers didn't seem to mind his never-ending energy and just watched him from afar, occasionally patting him on his head before watching Lucifer ran away to find somebody else to hug or play.

It wasn't long until dinner time and the toddler needed to eat.

"Lucifer, dinner's ready!"

And within a minute, Asmo found the young Avatar of Pride beside him, looking as cheerful as ever.

Did something fun happened this evening? He seemed happier...?

It was Belphie's turn to babysit Lucifer, so he picked him up and placed him on his lap. Since the house didn't have any baby chair, they had to improvise.

"Mammon made curry today, so we're eating rice and curry. If it doesn't suit your taste, go tell Mammon that."

"Hey! Don't insult my cooking!"

"Mammon, did you make sure to tone down the spice level? I don't think Lucifer could handle it if it's your usual spicy curry," Satan asked.

"What do ya take me for? 'Course I did! Lil Lucifer is weak now, no way can he handle the Great Mammon's Super Delicious Curry," Mammon responded.

"Just in case, here's some milk." Levi poured the milk into a plastic cup and handed it over to Belphie.

True, Mammon's spicy curry had tone down a notch and Lucifer's able to eat it, but that didn't stop his face from flushing after a few bite because of the heat.

"Is it too spicy for you?" Belphie wiped Lucifer's sweaty forehead with a napkin and was ready to give him the milk.

Lucifer shook his head but his hands were slowly itching to grab the plastic cup from Belphie's hand.

Still prideful as ever.

Sighing, Levi got up from his seat and grabbed Lucifer's plate, "I'll modify this. Wait a minute."

Not minding Lucifer's denial, Belphie gave the milk to Lucifer and watched the toddler drank it in a rush.

Belphie then flicked Lucifer's forehead gently and as nonchalant as ever, said, "Tell the truth next time. You'll get stomach ache if I keep forcing you to eat something you can't handle."

The toddler reacted with a pout and a frown.

---------------------------

Belphie yawned sleepily and sank further onto the couch. He should probably sleep on his own bed but his room is too far. He'd rather take a nap on this nice, comfy couch.

Feeling himself drifting off to sleep, he suddenly felt a weight on top of him. Annoyed from having his nap interrupted, he slowly opened his eyes to see a smiling Lucifer with a book in his hand.

"Belphie, read to me," he said with hopeful eyes.

This tiny thing! How dare he interrupted my nap for this?

"Who do you think I am? Your servant?" Belphie frowned, "Besides, isn't Satan more suited for this job than I am?"

"But... but Satan busy... Luci want to read this..." he looked down at the book, feeling dejected that the seventh born didn't agree to his request.

In his hand was the same book he gave to Satan this evening, 'The Sleeping Bunny'. He was requesting for a bed time story but all of his brothers were busy with their own agendas. That's until he found Belphie resting in the common room.

Sighing in defeat, he finally agreed. The way Lucifer beamed after that made Belphie cheered up a little bit.

Maybe it wasn't so bad...?

Belphie sat up and opened the book, starting to read with a very excited Lucifer sitting on his lap. It was actually a pretty nice story and the images illustrated were simple but impactful.

Belphie thought to himself why someone as intelligent as Satan would keep such storybook for kids in his massive collection of ancient and academic books.

"And the sleeping bunny is finally able to sleep with peace. The end..."

"Yay! Bunny gets sleep!"

"Well, shouldn't you be getting some sleep too? It's late." Belphie ran his fingers through Lucifer's black hair in hope for the toddler to calm down and get ready for bed soon.

"Belphie wants sleep...?"

"Been wanting it since you came over here and tell me to read this," Belphie said, trace of annoyance was still lingering in between his words.

"Okay, then Luci sleeps too." Lucifer nodded, still very much alive but agreed to rest for the night.

Belphie began laying down on the couch again and put Lucifer on his chest. He brought his hand on top of Lucifer's back to secure the toddler's position so he wouldn't fall off. Gently, Belphie tapped Lucifer's back to soothe him and lulled him to sleep.

Lucifer's tiny figure on his chest made him mesmerized on days where the eldest brother would care for them when they're sick.

He'd stay up all night; checking their temperatures; tending to their every needs and cooking his famous congee for them.

Belphie wouldn't want to admit it but he loves Lucifer's special congee, so he's really looking forward to his sick days.

The misunderstanding regarding Lucifer's decision had made a crack on their bonds as brothers. He used to love and adore Lucifer so much, but the self-hatred and constant unforgiving due to Lilith's death made him loathed Lucifer's decision to went along with Diavolo's plan.

Didn't he remember how the brothers suffer so much from the Fall? How they struggled to accept the fact that Lilith is no more? And how hard they had to adapt to Devildom at first?

Lucifer's decision broke Belphie's heart because he felt betrayed.

Betrayed by the fact that his brothers have all moved on.

Betrayed by the fact that he has to share his living space with the sole being that cause Lilith's death.

Betrayed by the fact that his dearest eldest brother forgot about Lilith's pain and went along with Diavolo's plan without any remorse.

If it wasn't for that particular exchange student, this misunderstanding might still happened and this family might be broken beyond repair.

Belphie was really grateful for their existence.

He then gently ruffled Lucifer's hair and gave a kiss on top of Lucifer's head, hand still firmly holding Lucifer in place. Slowly, he began to join Lucifer as well.

*****************

Taglist: @bissshitu @candymeowz @obeythebutler @crierofirony @thelegendaryfluffypotato13 @blossomgirlsstuff

The next part will be the last part so stay tuned~ (And can you guess what Lucifer's temperament as a toddler is? :3)

Thanks for reading and if you want to be in the taglist for the next part, let me know.

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