I really love your headcanons and I was wondering if you could do Sir pentious x a male dom reader that carries Sir pentious and his egg bois during turf wars and or other battles (both metaphorically and in some cases literally), practically making whatever Pentious was about to fight a sea of gore and broken bones.
Also maybe some bonus cute dom reader x sub pentious headcanons if you wouldnât mind?
Btw hereâs a meme I made of this idea.
Sub Pentious X Male Dom Reader
You stood in Pentious's air ship, looking out of the large window he had less then strategically placed on the nose of the ship.
Gazing out the coloured glass, you watched your S/O fight his battle.
He was doing well, that mostly being due to the serpent demon actually using strategies and not just relying on his airship and swarm tactics.
You held a glass in your hand, although it hadn't been filled. You were hoping you'd be coming down with a pair of them, filled with a particularly expensive brandy to celebrate.
But as you watched the serpent running about, ordering Egg Bois to attack clusters of enemies.
And he was doing well, keeping the pressure, not allowing his enemies to organise.
Just as you'd taught him.
He was winning by all metric, his enemy losing manpower rapidly. Unable to properly organise an effective counter.
But then... Pentious became cocky, charging a single enemy position instead of wittiling down his opponent as you'd taught.
He was going for a quick victory in one fell swoop... just like he always did.
And like always, it was his downfall.
As he took that one position, two others groups attacked, pinning him in.
You watched a while longer, seeing his egg Bois steadily get wiped out, Pentious' attacks becoming erratic, firing randomly, sending his remaining Eggbois off to there deaths.
You watched a while longer, releasing a soft sigh before turning away.
You lowered yourself from the airship, leaning on your cane as you stared out on the battlefield.
You didn't usually use a cane, made you feel old. But, it worked well with your outfit and was a gift from your favourite danger noodle, so you figured you may as well.
Walking through the battlefield you found yourself quite literally walking on Egg shells, the irony making you smile.
Getting closer to Pens position you found him huddled behind the remains of a brick wall, the snake occasionally firing at his attackers, the gangster having completely cornered him.
You waited a while longer, you hoped Pen would pull of one of his 'scientific miracles'. But the longer you watched the situation play out, the more obvious it became.
Pen had lost.
So, with a rather heavy sigh, you simple raised your cane and tapped it once on the ground.
The ground began to shake, large chasms splitting the earth releasing an unholy red light.
Skeletal hands began clawing their way out of the cracks, various skeletal demons rising from the ground. There bones blackened by Hellfire.
They immediately began attacking the gangsters, utterly tearing them apart in a display of Hells savagery.
You paid the chaos that unfurled around you no mind, stopping only briefly as the skeletal remains of an Imp tore the stomach out of one of the gangsters.
Walking behind Pens cover, you found the snake curled up, holding his tail to his chest.
Walking up to him, you crouched down, reaching out to brush back his hood. "Hello darling."
Pen didn't look at you, just staring at the laser rifle he'd thrown to the ground.
Seeing him unresponsive you sighed, moving forwards and picking him, the snake quickly pressing his face into your collar.
It wasn't much trouble lifting the snake for you despite his size, his tail curling around you.
You carried him through the battlefield, walking around one skeleton chowing down on a gangsters entrails, the demon taking his fill before he'd drag him back down with him, the gangster likely joining the skeleton hoarde the next time they were summoned.
You paid that no mind though, focused solely on getting Pen to his ship.
As you walked you heard Pen sniffle pressing his face further against you. "Come now darling, you did well, no need to get upset." You told him warmly, readjusting him to hold him to your chest.
You quickly made it to the airship, walking into the ship you quickly took the snake into the back chamber, telling one of the few Egg Bois left to set the ship for home.
The egg Boi giving a little salute before walking off to do just that.
With preparation a course set, you took the snake to your private quarters, entering the ships rather cosy back room, placing your serpent S/O on the custom made Victorian English couch you'd had made up just for him.
Sitting him down, you began checking him over, removing his singed jacket as you made sure there was no serious wear or tear.
Once you'd finished checking him, you just sighed, you took a knee, something you did rarely outside of caring for your Serpent S/O.
Grabbing his face you got the snake to look at you, the snake giving another sniffle. "What's wrong dear?" You asked warm but firmly.
Pentious sighed, wiping his near invisible nostrils.
"I'm a failure." He spoke coldly, leaning back and crossing his arms. "No matter how much I try, and no matter the lessons you give I can't do anything right. Cant even win a simple battle."
You tsked, you began softly.
"Don't get like this Penny, you just made a bad move. You'll get it down eventually, you just need a little more experience." You tried to assure him.
Pen scoffed, a scowl crossing his lips. "I have plenty of fucking experience. I'm the best at Losing, the king of the Losers!" He spat, taking his hat and throwing it across the room.
You didn't move, looking at his now discarded hat, the article not looking particularly happy at being discarded, before looking him over.
Reaching out you grabbing jaw, turning his head to you."Firstly, Penny dear, don't use that tone with me." You told him firmly, Pen instantly deflated a little, dropping his eyes to the floor in an act of submission.
"Secondly," You began, voice softer this time. "Your not a loser, Pen."
He immediately went to argue but a stern look instantly shot that down.
Cupping his cheek, you began firmly. "A loser is someone who works the same dead end job there entire life."
"A loser is someone who hasn't the balls to find themselves an S/o. A loser is someone who dies in the same crummy apartment they moved into in there teens."
You softened your grip, sliding your hand up to cup his face.
"You've fought many, many battles Penny. And it's true you've lost many of them. And sure, lots of people say that makes you a loser."
You paused momentarily before telling him ever so soothingly, "And those people are wrong."
Pen swallowed, voice strained as he asked. "What do you mean?"
You sighed, smiling down at him. "Do you really think I'd waste my time on some loser, Penny darling?" You asked a little playful, gliding your thumb over his lower lip.
"Your a survivor Pen. Every battle you survive is a victory and that makes you a survivor, like me." You told him, barely a hairs breath from him. "We were made for each other."
Red flushed his cheeks just as you pulled him in, lips meeting his as you locked into a heated kiss.
You pressed him back into the lounge, hand sliding up under his shirt, fingers gliding over his beautiful flesh.
The snake gasped, bit never broke the kiss, the snake curling his tail around you.
Your kissing quickly becoming heated, the snake already shedding his shirt and you, following his example, threw off your coat already working on your dress shirt.
Pen curled his tail around you proper, trapping you in an uncharacteristic assertion of dominance, the snake laying kisses down your neck.
Pen stopping for a second before you felt that familiar pin pricks of his fangs sinking into your neck.
You growled, blood pumping as pleasure and pain mixed.
Pulling him off, you found the alluring sight of Pentious, those beautiful lips stained with blood.
You slammed your face onto his, the metallic tang of blood hitting you full force.
You dominated Pens mouth, as you always did, the snake quickly submitting, as he always did.
Your tongues fenced, his forced organ entwined with your own, you relishing the feeling of running your tongue across his fangs.
It was a simple act of dominance, running your tongue across his most deadly feature. All the while the snake loving it.
You tore yourself from the kiss, panting hard before you gripped Pens jaw, leaning into his collar and telling him gruffly. "I do the biting around here."
And with that you sank your teeth into his shoulder, the snakes back arching, Pen releasing a guttural moan, the sound deliciouslysubmissive.
The bite wasn't deep enough to do any serious damage. It was intended for mixing the perfect balance of pain and pleasure.
And it would be just as you began working on your belt that the ship suddenly jerked, forcing the Snake to fall on you, you still curled in his tail.
You laid there for a second, releasing a little chuckle.
Turning Pen to you, you raised a finger, telling him softly, "I'll deal with this. I expect you ready when I return."
So, once you'd wiggled out of Pen's tail, and slipped on your shirt, making a note to get red shirts for when Pen was in a biting mood.
Walking out of the back room with a semi straightened, and blood stained dress shirt, you walked through the airship with a scowl, upset at being interrupted in your moment of conquest.
And upon entering the main chamber you found a familiar odour.
Pink explosions.
And stood in the main floor was the hot topic sensation Cherri bomb.
Cherry with an I, not a Y.
That always annoyed you.
The woman instantly turned to you, smile dropping upon seeing it was you.
"Can I help you?" You asked coldly.
Cherri snorted, "Where's edge lord? The old noodle..." her sentence died out as her attention seemed to shift to your dishevelled state.
"Did I interrupt something?" She asked, a great big smug grin crossing her face.
You sighed, holding back a snarl you asked, "Why are you here? Last I checked you don't have any territory this side of Pentagram."
Cherri just blew a raspberry, telling you, "Eh. I saw the ship, thought I'd stop by, maybe throw Snaky around like the good old days." She finished smugly checking her nails.
And that, that set you off.
You were too annoyed to manifest something more sophisticated, so a large black tendril shot out of a nearby portal and grabbed the girl.
Releasing a sigh, you walked over to the liquor cabinet you'd had installed. You'd had many more refined element brought into the ship, hoping to spruce it up from the war machine it was originally crafted to be..
"Lets get something straight." You began grabbing a glass and pouring pouring yourself a modest amount of very delicious red wine. "I don't care if you and Pen fight, I really don't. So long as it's for a good reason."
Turning to her, you took a sip of wine. "If he wants your territory, or you want his. Fair enough. That's how these things are. No sweat off my back."
You walked up to the girl, swirling your glass.
"But let's make one thing very clear. If I ever find out you attacking Pen unprovoked, for no better reason then reminiscing..." You just smiled, rolling your glass of wine.
"Well..." You smiled, the tendril slowly tightening, the girls body slowly twisting, the sounds of his bones slowly being bent bringing a smile to your face.
"I feel you get the idea, and If you'll excuse me, I have a snake to break. He he, snake break." you finished with a giggle, laughing at your unintentional rhyme.
With a wave of your hand, Cherri was held out the window. "You managed to get up here. So... I imagine you can manage your way down." You finished smoothly, turning and paying no mind as Cherri fell.
You walked back to your Penny room with renewed hunger, entering the room to find the snake splayed out in the most deliciously submissive way, the collar you'd bought him around his neck.
You grinned, Downing the rest of your glass before stepping forwards. Grabbing the leash, you led Him to the lounge, sitting down and giving it a tug, pulling Penny close.
"Well, I hope your comfortable." Wrapping the leash around your hand as he got closer, Pen sat between your legs as you kept the leash tight, making sure Pen knew exactly who was in control. "Because I'm not stopping till I'm satisfied... or your pregnant."
Pen blushed, hard, but still smiled none the less, he sight making you smile once more, biting your lower lip.
You didn't waste much time in kissing him, pulling him in as you undid your shirt, leaving the belt for your snake.
You were going to make sure he knew who was in charge.
Youd show Pen how much you loved him no matter how long it took.
And once you were through with him, he'd never forget it.
Hey Hey, hope you like. I did make the reader a little more sophisticated then the request implied, but I Dailey the dominance to 11 so I think it balances out.
I love writing for Pentious and I hope you enjoyed reading. Thanking for the time and feel free to comment or like. Bye Bye.
Youd find the Snake after yet another defeat, the man completely emerged in despair, the serpent staring at the bottom of yet another bottle of wine.
Youd find him slumped over the bar, various cheap wine bottles around him.
You knew about the guy, he often came into the bar after a bad day, the man drinking through most of the bars wine each time he visited. And this time wasn't any different. Accept one thing.
You.
You strolled up to the bar, taking the seat beside him.
You were glad to see he'd only just opened his second bottle, so the snake wasn't too inebriated.
Sliding onto the chair besides him, you'd order your own drink before just sitting there for a moment.
After another moment you'd smoothly turn to him, confidently greeting him. "Hey there, you don't know me but, well, Im quite the fan of yours."
At that, Pentious instantly froze before perking right up.
"A... fan?" He asked, clearly intruiged.
"Oh yes!" You assured him, nodding your head. "I've followed your exploits for a while now and well, I'd be lying if I didn't admire your abilities."
Pentious was absolutely entranced by you, "You... really admire me?" He asked, head gyrating ever so slightly, the wine clearly affecting his head.
You just nodded, "Of course~ who couldn't admire the mechanical expertise and bravado that is Sir Pentious~" you finished ever so playfully.
At this, Pentious pulled back, hand to chest as he proudly boasted, "Well, it's only natural I get the recognition I so deserve!"
At that you chuckled, the two of you having a lively conversation, you asking a wide variety of questions.
The subject of his airship would come up, his mood becoming dower, the snake revealing it'd been destroyed, the snake getting all droopy.
To which you'd ask why he doesn't just rebuild it.
Pentious cocked a brow asking, "What do you mean, ''Just rebuild it?"
At that you'd jump up, telling him, "We rebuild it. That's what you do Pentious. No matter the defeat, no matter the failure, you get back up and get back to work. You rebuild, and that's exactly what we're gonna do!" You told him gleefully, gripping his collar.
A dusting of red crossed the snake's cheeks before he asked softly, "W-We?"
At that you'd blush, pulling back. "Well, I'm no handyman, not like you, but I can do my part, morla support and all that" You finished confidently, giving him a playful wink.
Pentious blushed up a storm, sputtering as he tried to compose himself.
Seeing him like this you smirked asking simply, "Well if you'd rather do it alone I could always leave?"
But before you could really get up to leave, Pentious quickly blurted out. "NO!" The snake pausing, quickly composing himself.
"I wouldn't mind having you around, rebuilding an Airship is such a... long process I could use the company." He finished trying to seem composed.
You smiled at that, hopping off your stool before turning back, asking if he'd like to get to work. The snake perking up, before following after, the two of you leaving the bar together.
Now, as you said, you weren't the mechanical wizard that Pentious was, but you were clever as a fox.
As such, you supported him passively, using clever moves in the right situation. You playfully flirting with the man here and there.
The first step was to retrieve what he could from the wreck, dragging it back to his workshop.
The Workshop was a large space at his manor, Pentious having actually built the place from scratch, something you were happy to compliment him for, it truly was impressive.
Youd have to work from scratch, most of the Airship un-salvageable except for materials.
Unable to do much with what he had, and Pentious pulling out his old schematics, youd crack open some of his wine, the two of you looking over the schematic over several glasses of wine, quickly getting intoxicated.
Youd talk long into the night, going over ideas, Pentious asking about you, you asking about Him, sure to tease him.
There be a moment, the snake playfully tapping your shoulder, playing dumb. And after doing it one more time, youd jump him, gripping his jaw firmly before telling him in a very husky voice, If he did it again, youd have to punish him~
So, with a growing blush, he'd tap your shoulder, you just smirked, downing your drink, before slamming him into a kiss.
Your sex was... animalistic~
You pentious may have been bigger then you in most regards, but you were in control, and made sure he knew it~
You made him squirm and writhe, beg and plead, moan your name long into the night~
The next morning you made him breakfast, the man a flushed mess the entire morning, until the man would ask what came next?
You just smiled, walked over to your new danger noodle before giving him a sweet kiss, telling him. "We'll take it nice and slow for now, but put simply I'm here to stay, at least so long as you'll take me." You finished almost as a question.
Pentious quickly answered, telling you he'd love you to stay, at least for now, you happily accepting, a little grin crossing your face as you sat back down and got to eating.
The next thing you'd do as a brand new couple, would be revising his old plans. He'd jot down a design similar to his last, that being when you did your best work with the man.
Youd look it over as he added detail, pointing out a flaws casually, asking what that bit did, or if it should look like that, letting Pentious feel like he fixed the problem while also fixing major design flaws.
You spend hours over those schematics. Tinkering with ideas and thinking up more practical designs.
Youd end up eating cheese and bread Pentious was saving for... well, not company, he never had company, but they were nice all the same, the two of you busy at work for anything more sophisticated.
Youd work all day, and while Pentious once more was angling towards a grand spectacle of an Airship, you were able to use your charm and new relationship to make him think practically.
There was a lot of that in your new relationship, you tempering his ambition.
Of course, you didn't stifle it, you just... turned his ambition from a roaring inferno into a co trolled blowtorch, perfect for the job at hand.
Youd also take up residence within his manor, the two of you sharing his room, something he was... initially conflicted about.
The snake wasn't used to having others around, ley alone bunking with them, the man having become rather anti social.
But after a few nights together~ Pentious would come around, greatly enjoying your company in bed, the snake often coiling himself around you as he slept.
Life in Pentious' manor was fun. You'd cook regularly for the snake, although the man was already quite the cook, having to rely on himself for so many years.
You also made sure to spoil him with deserts, many coming with a much sweeter treat in your bedroom later that night~
But when you weren't doing that, you were spending time with the great danger noodle.
That'd be when your influence slowly began to seep into your "relationship".
You generally did this by, well, simply by telling him what to do.
You never over stepped your boundaries, being careful to not be too demanding. And you were always sure to think him warmly when he did as told, this, along with your other more intimate acts quickly developing into your natural dynamic.
This was all rather easy, particularly since, well, the man was rather fragile.
He deeply longed for intimacy, although that longing had long since played second fiddle to his wish for prestige and power.
But after you'd given him a taste of genuine romance, he was hooked, coming to you over and over for a dose of love or affection. The man surprisingly hands on when it came to intimacy.
And it didn't matter if you were an Imp, the man wanted you, like putty in your hands.
But despite his natural submission to you, you didn't train him for a position of submission, in fact, with your careful grooming he was as dominant as ever.
But this time, it was with you speaking in his ear, keeping him level headed.
The Airship would be constructed over several months, the man implementing many of your ideas, building a blimp with function over form. And all throughout it, you were there, assuring him, supporting him, comforting your snake S/O.
It was a passive dominance, the man slowly coming to rely of you, becoming influenced and reliant on you, you using this reliance to teach him to think before he acted.
And it'd take many months of careful planing. Saying the right thing at the right moment before the ship was finished, the thing a much wiser creation, a veritable mobile Fortress.
Of course, you'd had Private Quarters installed, customised to your liking, and with the Airship finished you'd take the snake aboard, christening it with your bodies.
It'd be as you lay there, lacking any attire, that you'd be leant against him, running your hand along his beautiful scales, telling him how much proud you were of him. How much you admired his abilities and courage.
And after several moments, the snake would ask, "why?"
Youd be confused, turning to him before asking what he meant, until he'd snapped at you, asking why you cared so much about some wannabe?!
Why did you care so much about some pathetic snake that could barely control the Territory he had let alone successfully conquer anymore?!
The snake tearfully asking why you bothered with him at all.
To that you'd move close, cupping his face, wiping the tears from his eyes, telling him gently. "I Love you Penny, I love you because when you want something, you have the will and dedication to go after it."
Thered be another few moments of silence before you continued. "My entire life, I was surrounded by Imps that just 'accepted their place' in Hell's hierarchy. Never striving for more then the scraps they could steal."
You looked him in the eyes, cheeks a little flushed, telling him. "but you, Sir Pentious, some sinner with nothing more than some tools and machines, are trying to take Hell, and the damnest thing is, youve gotten so close, so many times."
"Your more a man then every Imp I've ever met combined, and despite your many failures... you keep at it. Fighting for what you want..."
Youd lean in, laying against him, looking up at him with a little smile. "You deserve all the love and admiration in the world, and if im the only one who can see that, then ill be sure to make up for the rest, no matter how much effort takes~"
Pentious was practically in tears as he held you close, curling around you, holding you against him tightly.
"Please don't leave me... I can't live without you..." he spoke through soft sobs.
You just cooed, hugging him back, telling him softly, "Pentious my darling... I'd never leave you..."
With that you held him close, enjoying the moment with your darling snake.
Pentious would be a new man by the time his newest Airship was fully complete and ready for conquest.
Youd convince the man to hit several smaller targets first, the man doing so without much convincing, winning easily and bolstering both his territory and confidence.
It'd be over the snap of years, you always besides your loving Snek, but after purge after purge, surviving each and carefully utilising the subsequent chaos, Pentious would come to own a large swath of Pentagram.
And with some careful choices influenced by yourself, he'd achieve the Rank of Overlord, the man eternally grateful to you for making him the man he was.
Youd be widely known as the once clown wannabe Serpent and his Imp S/O, to the ruthless and cunning Serpent Overlord and His Imp lover~
And while he ruled his territory as the ruthless crime boss and Overlord, Sir Pentious. With you, in private, he was happy to submit to your loving embrace. Allowing you to take control from the man, letting you take the reigns, even if you both knew you already held them.
Hey Hey. So I know this isn't as grand as my Vox one, but I hope you like it. And I'll admit it was a but of a rush job, but I got it out and I felt with pentious you'd need to be a little more hands off. Not dominating directly, but more through positive reinforcement, as well as some good old fashioned fornication, you could pretty effectively get the man wrapped around your finger, while still getting him the title of Overlord, which I feel would be a major Boone to both him and your relationship.
But regardless I'd love to know what you think and I hope you enjoyed, Bye Bye.
blogtherouge, she is an extremely problematic artist infamous in the undertale community for her really bad comics (bad as in the topics and not writing)
I donât know whatâs more surprising. Learning the person who made some cool art I found drew things Iâd rather not learn any more details about, or learning that multiple webcomics I vividly remember watching YouTube dubs of as a kid are now associated with cp.
Warnings â ïž: it's hell ? ... lecherous dudes, Canon typical violence, swearing, clowns, smut, some canon typical religious overtones, alcohol consumption, lusty aesthetics, angst, blood, medical care, feelings of despair.
Part 12 | Part 14
Hell-ish Heartbeats đđđ P.13
Ozzie moved through the streets of the Lust Ring with single-minded purpose, his flames burning bright enough to cast long shadows across the neon-lit buildings. He called your name at intervals, checking every alley, every storefront, anywhere you might have gone.
His phone rang, and he answered it immediately.
"Anything?" Fizz's voice came through, tight with anxiety.
"Nothing," Ozzie said, his flames flickering with frustration. "I've checked three blocks, asked everyone I've seen. No one's spotted her. You?"
"The club's empty except for the cleanup crew, and they haven't seen her," Fizz said. There was a pause, then his voice came back smaller, more vulnerable. "Oz, what if she'sâwhat if something happenedâ"
"She's smart," Ozzie interrupted firmly, as much to reassure himself as Fizz. "She's careful. She wouldn't go anywhere too dangerous."
"She's also upset, human and doesn't know Lust that well," Fizz countered, and Ozzie could hear the barely controlled panic in his voice. "Anything could happen to her out here!"
"I know," Ozzie said, stopping at a corner to scan the street. "But we'll find her. She can't have gone far on foot. Keep looking. Check the places near the palaceâanywhere she might feel safe."
"Okay," Fizz said, his voice shaking slightly. "Okay. Call me ifâjust call me."
"You too," Ozzie said. "We'll find her, Froggie."
"We have to," Fizz said quietly, and then the line went dead.
Ozzie stood there for a moment, his chest tight with an emotion he rarely allowed himself to feel fear. Not for himselfâhe was a Sin, one of the most powerful beings in Hell. But for you, small and fragile and human, wandering alone through a Ring that could be cruel to those who didn't know how to navigate it.
You meanwhile, were on your third drinkâor was it your fourth?âwhen Verosika ordered another round.
"I should," you said, but your words were already starting to slur together. "Should prob'ly stop."
"Babe, you called me crying about kissing Fizz, in fact you called him a hot guy," Verosika said, sliding the drink across to you. "This situation absolutely calls for drinking. Trust me, I'm a professional."
You'd called her in a panic after fleeing Ozzie's club, your hands shaking so badly you could barely dial. She'd answered on the second ring, listened to your incoherent sobbing, and told you to meet her at a bar she knew. You'd barely made it there before your phone died completely.
The bar was dimly lit and surprisingly classy for Lust, all dark wood and mood lighting. Verosika had secured a corner booth that felt private, secluded. Safe.
"I kissed Fizz," you said again, because you'd said it about fifteen times already but your brain couldn't seem to move past that fact. "I kissed Ozzie's partner. I'mâI'm exactly what those tabloids said I was."
"Oh, fuck those tabloids," Verosika said, waving a dismissive hand. "They're trash written by trash people for trash readers. You're not a homewrecker, you're just... confused."
"I liked it," you admitted quietly, staring into your drink. The alcohol was stronger than you where used to, hit harder and faster, and you could feel it buzzing through your system. "That's the worst part. I liked kissing him. And Iâ" You stopped, the words catching in your throat.
"And you what?" Verosika prompted, gentler now.
"I like watching them together," you said miserably. "Ozzie and Fizz. The way they look at each other, the way they are with each other. It's so... it's beautiful. They're beautiful together. And what does that say about me? That I like their relationship? Fuck does that make me some kind of prevert that I wantâ" You cut yourself off again, taking another long drink.
"That you want what, exactly?" Verosika asked, leaning forward.
"I don't know," you said, but that was a lie. You did know. You wanted them. Both of them. Together. The three of you. And that was wrong, wasn't it? People didn't work like that. Relationships didn't work like that.
Verosika was quiet for a moment, studying you with an expression that was surprisingly thoughtful. "Has anyone ever explained polyamory to you?"
You blinked at her, your alcohol-fogged brain struggling with the word. "Poly...what?"
"Polyamory," Verosika repeated. "Multiple people in a relationship together. Like, all dating each other."
"That's a thing?" you asked, your voice small.
"Babe, we're in Hell," Verosika said dryly. "Everything's a thing. But yeah, it's pretty common actually. Especially down here. Some people are built for monogamy, others aren't. Neither is wrong, they're just different."
"But..." You struggled to process this. "How does that even work? Like, don't people get jealous?"
"Sometimes," Verosika admitted. "But that's what communication is for. You talk about your feelings."
You couldn't quite wrap your head around it.
"Look, I'm gonna level with you." Verosika took a sip of her own drink. "Those two? Asmodeus and Fizz? They're clearly into you. Both of them. I saw the way they looked at you, the way they talked about you. Even when you were all gross and passing out."
Your heart was hammering now, your thoughts spinning. "But they're together. They love each other."
"Love isn't a finite resource, babe." Verosika said simply. "It's not a competition either."
"I don'tâI can'tâ" You put your head in your hands. "This is too much."
Before she could respond, Verosika's phone rang. She glanced at the screen, and her expression shifted.
"Speak of the Sins," she muttered, answering it. "Asmodeus. Yeah, she's here. She's fine. Well, she's drunk, but she's fine." A pause. "The Velvet Glove, three blocks from your club. Yeah. Okay. See you in a few."
She hung up and looked at you apologetically. "Called in the cavalry. They're on their way."
"No," you said, trying to stand and immediately regretting it as the room spun. "No, I can'tâthey can't see me like thisâ"
"Sit your drunk ass down before you fall over," Verosika commanded, pulling you back onto the seat. "They're worried about you. The least you can do is let them see you're alive."
You slumped back in the booth, torn between relief that they cared and mortification that they were coming here. To see you. Drunk. After you'd kissed Fizz and ran away like a coward.
"'M a mess," you mumbled.
"Yeah," Verosika agreed, not unkindly. "But you're a mess who needs to have an actual conversation. So buck up, Fuckstain. Time to face the music."
You heard them before you saw them.
"âchecked everywhere, I was starting to thinkâVerosika!"
Fizz's voice cut through the ambient noise of the bar, and you tried to make yourself smaller, shrinking down in the booth. Maybe if you just disappeared into the upholstery, you wouldn't have to deal with this until you where sober.
"Back booth," you heard Verosika say. "And she's pretty drunk, so maybe go easy on her."
"Is she hurt?" That was Ozzie, his voice tight with concern.
"Only her pride," Verosika said dryly. "And maybe her liver after tonight. Go on Boss, I'll settle the tab."
Footsteps approached, and then suddenly they were there. Ozzie's massive form nearly blocked out the light, and Fizz was right beside him, his eyes immediately locking onto you.
You groaned, trying to sink further into the booth. "No," you mumbled. "Go 'way."
"Not a chance, cutie," Fizz said, and there was so much relief in his voice it made your chest ache. He slid into the booth beside you while Ozzie crouched down to your eye level. "We've been looking everywhere for you."
"Shouldn't have," you said, refusing to look at either of them. "Should just... leave me here. 'M terrible."
"You're not terrible," Ozzie said gently. "You're drunk. There's a difference."
"'M a homewrecker," you said miserably. "The tabloids were right. I'mâI'm exactly what they said."
"Okay, no, absolutely not," Fizz said firmly. "We're not doing this here. Come on, we're taking you home."
"Don't wanna go home," you protested weakly as Fizz carefully helped you stand. "You're gonnaâyou're gonna tell me to leave and I don'tâI don't have anywhere else to goâ"
"We're not telling you to leave," Ozzie said, and his voice was so certain it cut through your alcohol-hazed thoughts. "We need to talk, yes. But we're not kicking you out. I promise."
You wanted to believe him. You did believe him, sort of, but everything was fuzzy and confused and your emotions were too big for your brain.
"Thanks for calling," you heard Ozzie say to Verosika.
"Yeah, well, someone had to," Verosika replied. "She's sweet. Don't fuck this up, Asmodeus."
"I won't," Ozzie said, and it sounded like a vow.
The walk back to the palace was a blur. You were vaguely aware of Fizz's steady presence beside you, of Ozzie clearing a path through the streets. At some point, you stumbled and Ozzie just carefully scooped you up into his palm, cradling you there with such gentleness it made your throat tight.
"Put me down," you mumbled. "'M'heavy."
"You weigh nothing, little one," Ozzie said softly, his massive finger coming up to carefully card through your hair, pushing it back from your face. The gesture was so tender, so careful, that you felt your eyes well up with tears.
"'M sorry," you choked out, the words tumbling free. "I'm so sorry, Ozzie. I kissed Fizz and I shouldn't have and IâI didn't mean toâ"
"Hey, hey," came Fizz's voice, and suddenly he was there too, having propelled himself up onto Ozzie's shoulder with his mechanical limbs. He leaned down so you could see his face. "Hold on, cutie. Let's get something straight here. I kissed YOU. Not the other way around."
"But IâI didn't stop youâ"
"Because you didn't want to stop me," Fizz said gently. "And that's okay. That's more than okay."
"You are not at fault here, little one," Ozzie added, his voice a low rumble that you could feel through his palm. "There's nothing to apologize for."
"But you're together," you said miserably, tears now tracking down your cheeks. "You love each other and IâI shouldn'tâ"
"We'll talk about everything when you're sober," Ozzie promised, his finger continuing that gentle motion through your hair. "But please believe me when I say you haven't done anything wrong. Neither of you have."
You wanted to argue, wanted to explain all the reasons why you were terrible and wrong and bad, but exhaustion and alcohol were pulling you under. Your eyes were already closing, your body going heavy in Ozzie's palm.
"Can't rest," you mumbled weakly. "'M'angry."
"At us?" Fizz asked quietly, his voice closer now.
"At me," you corrected, your words slurring together. "At your stupid pretty mouth."
There was a pause. "My what?" Fizz asked, sounding confused and possibly amused.
"Your pretty mouth," you repeated, the words tumbling out without your permission thanks to the alcohol. "'S'not fair. You kissed me and it wasâit was really good and I liked it and I'm not s'posed to like it 'cause you're with Ozzie and Iâ" Your voice cracked. "I like you. Both of you. And that makes me terrible."
You felt Ozzie's chest rumble with somethingâa sigh, maybe, or a sound of understanding.
"We'll talk tomorrow," he said gently, his finger still carding through your hair in that soothing motion.
Your eyes were already closing, the combination of alcohol, emotional exhaustion, and the gentle warmth of Ozzie's palm pulling you under like a tide. You tried to say something else, but the words dissolved into nothing, and darkness claimed you completely.
"She's out," Fizz said softly, watching as your body went completely limp in Ozzie's palm, curled up small and peaceful.
"Completely," Ozzie agreed, adjusting his hand slightly to make sure you were secure. "Let's get her home."
You didn't stir at all, your breathing deep and even. Ozzie kept his palm perfectly steady, and Fizz stayed close, his eyes never leaving your sleeping form.
By the time they reached your room, you were so deeply asleep you didn't even twitch when Ozzie very carefully began helping you out of your jacket.
"Easy," Fizz whispered, supporting your shoulders while Ozzie maneuvered the fabric. "Don't want to wake her."
"She's not waking up anytime soon," Ozzie murmured back, but he was gentle anyway, treating you like something precious and fragile. "Help me with her shoes?"
They worked together in hushed silence, Fizz carefully unlacing your shoes while Ozzie held you steady. You made a small sound in your sleep, something between a sigh and a mumble, and they both froze.
"...pretty..." you murmured, still completely unconscious, and Fizz had to press his hand over his mouth to stifle a laugh.
"Don't you dare," Ozzie whispered, but there was amusement in his voice too.
Once you were down to just your clothes, Ozzie very carefully lowered you onto the bed, arranging you comfortably on the mattress. Fizz pulled the blanket up over you, tucking it around your shoulders with surprising tenderness.
For a moment, they both just stood there, looking down at you. Your face was peaceful in sleep, all the stress and panic from earlier smoothed away. You looked vulnerable like this and something in Ozzie's chest clenched.
"Think she meant it?" Fizz asked, and there was vulnerability in his voice. "Like, really meant it? Not just agree because she feels obligated orâ"
"Did you hear what she said?" Ozzie interrupted gently. "She said she likes us. Both of us. Together. That's not obligation talking, Fizz."
"She also called my mouth pretty," Fizz said, a grin starting to spread across his face even through his worry. "Which, I mean, fair. It IS a pretty great mouth."
"Mmm," Ozzie hummed, his eyes flickering with amusement. "She did seem very focused on your mouth. 'Fuck you and your pretty mouth,' I believe were her exact words."
Fizz's grin turned absolutely wicked despite the hushed tone. "She's got good taste. I DO have a pretty mouth. Among other things."
"Your humility is truly astounding," Ozzie said dryly, but he was smiling.
"Hey, she's the one who said it first!" Fizz protested in a whisper. "I'm just agreeing with her excellent judgment!"
"While she was drunk and crying," Ozzie pointed out.
"Still counts!" Fizz said, then his expression softened as he looked back down at you. "She was so upset, Oz. Thought she'd ruined everything. Thought we'd hate her."
"We could never hate her," Ozzie said firmly, his voice quiet but certain. "Even if she didn't want this, even if she only wanted to be friendsâwe could never hate her."
"But she does want this," Fizz said, something hopeful in his voice. "Right? That's what all that meant? The liking us both, the liking watching us togetherâ"
"We'll ask her properly tomorrow," Ozzie said. "When she's sober and can actually make an informed decision. But yes, Froggie. I think she wants this too."
You made another small sound in your sleep, shifting slightly under the blanket. They both froze again, but you didn't wake, just settled deeper into the mattress with a soft sigh.
"She looks peaceful," Fizz observed, not for the first time. "We're gonna have to be so careful with her."
"We will be," Ozzie promised. "In every way that matters."
They stood there for another moment, watching you sleep, both of them processing the events of the night. Finally, Fizz spoke again, his voice barely audible.
"I was so scared when we couldn't find her."
"I know," Ozzie said, reaching out to pull Fizz close to his side. "I was too."
"If something had happenedâ"
"But it didn't," Ozzie interrupted firmly. "She's here. She's safe. And tomorrow, we're going to talk."
"Absolutely," Fizz said, then glanced up at Ozzie with a slight smirk. "Including the part about my pretty mouth?"
"Especially that part," Ozzie said, and his tone was so deadpan that Fizz had to muffle another laugh against his side.
"You're terrible," Fizz whispered.
"You love it," Ozzie murmured back.
"Yeah," Fizz agreed softly, looking back at you one more time. "I really do."
They slipped out of the room quietly, leaving the door cracked just enough that they'd hear if you called out. And as they made their way to their own bedroom, both of them felt something settle in their chests.
You woke up feeling like death warmed over.
Your head was pounding, your mouth tasted like something had died in it, and the light filtering through the curtains felt like knives stabbing directly into your brain. You groaned, pulling the pillow over your face.
Memories from the night before came back in fragments. The kiss. Running away. Calling Verosika. Drinking. So much drinking. Ozzie and Fizz finding you. Being carried home. Saying something about Fizz's mouth that made you want to die of embarrassment even now.
Oh god. You'd told Fizz he had a pretty mouth. While drunk. In front of Ozzie.
You wanted the bed to swallow you whole.
There was a gentle knock on the door, and you seriously considered pretending to be dead.
"Little one?" Ozzie's voice came through, soft and careful. "Are you awake?"
You made a sound that might have been acknowledgment or might have just been suffering.
The door opened slowly, and Ozzie entered carrying a glass of water and what looked like some kind of medicine. "How are you feeling?"
"Like I got hit by a truck," you mumbled into the pillow. "And then the truck backed up and hit me again."
"That would be the alcohol," Ozzie said, setting the water and medicine on the nightstand. "It's significantly stronger than what you're used to. This should help with the headache."
You forced yourself to sit up, immediately regretting it as the room spun. Ozzie's hand came out to steady you, and you took the medicine gratefully, washing it down with the entire glass of water.
"Thank you," you said quietly, still not quite able to look at him.
"Of course," Ozzie said. He sat on the edge of the bedâcarefully, so he didn't jostle youâand waited.
The silence stretched between you, heavy with everything unsaid.
"I'm sorry," you finally said, your voice small. "For making you worry. Forâfor everything."
"You don't need to apologize," Ozzie said gently.
"Look if I've made it too werid I can start packing," you said quietly, interrupting your own spiral. "I understand. I'll start looking for a place this afternoon."
"What?" Ozzie's face flickered with confusion. "Why would you pack?"
"Because Iâ" You gestured helplessly. "Fizz and I crossed a line. I'd understand if you want me to leave."
"IâWe don't want you to leave," Ozzie said, and his voice was so firm, so certain, that it cut through your anxious thoughts. "That's actually the opposite of what we want to talk about."
You finally looked up at him, confused and still slightly nauseous. "Oh?"
"Take a shower, drink more water," Ozzie said, standing. "We'll have breakfast and sit down and have a proper conversation. Okay?"
"Okay," you said, because you didn't know what else to say.
Ozzie paused at the door, looking back at you with an expression that was softer than you'd ever seen. "For the record, Froggie does have a pretty mouth. You're not wrong about that."
And then he was gone, leaving you sitting on the bed, completely confused and blushing so hard you thought your face might catch fire.
By the time you made it downstairs, showered and dressed and feeling marginally more human, your nerves were completely shot.
Fizz and Ozzie were in the kitchen, plating what looked like pancakes and eggs. Fizz looked up when you entered, and his expression immediately softened.
"Hey, cutie," he said gently. "How's the head?"
"Still attached," you said, managing a weak smile.
"Sit," Fizz commanded, gesturing to the kitchen table where Ozzie was already moving to and setting down plates. "Food helps. Trust me, I've had my share of hangovers."
You sat carefully, the three of you sat there for a moment, the silence heavy with anticipation.
"So," Ozzie finally said, his voice gentle. "Last night wasâ"
"I'm so sorry," you blurted out, unable to stop yourself. "I shouldn't have gotten drunk and made you both worry andâ"
"Whoa, whoa, slow down there, cutie!" Fizz interrupted, holding up his hands. "First of all, you're allowed to freak out. Second of all, WE'RE the ones who should be apologizing. Well, I am. Definitely me. I kissed you without explaining jack shit first."
"But Iâ" you started.
"Nope!" Fizz said, making an X with his arms. "No buts! Except our butts. Those are allowed. But no 'but I' statements right now!"
Despite everything, you felt a small laugh bubble up. "Fizz..."
"He's right," Ozzie said, his tone more serious but still kind. "We should have talked to you before any of that happened. We've been... trying to figure out how to bring this up for a while now."
You looked between them, confused. "Bring what up?"
Fizz and Ozzie exchanged a glance, and then Fizz leaned forward, his expression unusually earnest.
"Okay, so, cards on the table time," Fizz said. "We both like you. Like, we're both attracted to you. Me and Ozzie. At the same time. And we'd both very much like to date you. If you're into that. Which, based on the whole 'pretty mouth' comment, I hope maybe you are? No judgment!"
Your face immediately went hot. "Youâyou remember that?"
"Oh, we remember EVERYTHING, cutie," Fizz said with a grin. "Very enlightening. Very flattering. Please feel free to compliment my mouth more often."
"Froggie," Ozzie said, a warning in his tone, but there was amusement there too.
"What? I'm just saying! She called it pretty! That's a compliment! I'm accepting compliments!"
You put your face in your hands, mortified. "Oh my god."
"Hey, hey, no hiding!" Fizz said, gently pulling your hands away from your face. "Look, drunk you was actually pretty honest about some stuff. And if sober you feels even remotely similar, then maybe we can actually talk about this?"
"Talk about what?" you asked weakly. "About how I'm apparently attracted to both of you and also like watching you together like some kind of pervâ"
"About dating each other," Ozzie said without preamble. "All together. With everyone knowing and agreeing. Not cheating, not sneaking around. Just... more than two people in a relationship."
"That's a thing?" you asked, then immediately remembered. "Wait, Verosika mentioned that last night, didn't she? I thought I dreamed that part."
"It's definitely a thing," Fizz confirmed. "Pretty common here actually. Less common for you, I'm guessing, based on your face right now."
"I justâ" You struggled to find words. "I didn't know you could do that. Like, I thought relationships were supposed to be two people."
"They CAN be two people," Ozzie said. "And for a long time, it was just Fizz and me. But feelings don't always follow neat little rules. Sometimes you care about more than one person. And if everyone's honest and communicates, it can work."
"You've done this before?" you asked, looking at Ozzie.
"I have," he confirmed. "Not recently, but yes. I know how to navigate this kind of relationship structure. And I know it only works if everyone involved actually wants it and feels safe."
You sat there, trying to process. "So you both... want to date me? Together?"
"YES!" Fizz said emphatically. "That's exactly what we're saying! Finally! We're on the same page!"
"But what aboutâ" You gestured vaguely between them. "What you two have? Wouldn't I just be... in the way?"
"In the way of what?" Ozzie asked, his voice gentle. "Our relationship doesn't have a finite amount of space, little one. Adding you doesn't subtract anything from what Fizz and I have."
"It actually ADDS stuff!" Fizz said enthusiastically. "Like, more people to laugh at my jokes! More people for movie nights! More people to tell Ozzie he's being overprotective! It's a win-win-win situation!"
"Fizz," Ozzie said, fond exasperation in his voice.
"What? I'm being honest!" Fizz turned back to you. "Look, cutie, I'm not great at the serious emotional talk thing, so I'm just gonna be real with you. I like you. A LOT. I think about you all the time. And yeah, I love Ozzie, and that's not going anywhere, but there's room in hereâ" he tapped his chest, "âfor both of you."
"Froggie, your overwhelming her." Ozzie repeated, more firmly this time.
"Ok buttttt, right now we're focusing on the cutie in front of us who we'd very much like to take you on dates and kiss and generally romance the hell out of! Literally! Because we're in Hell!" Fizz said with a grin.
Despite your confusion and nerves, you felt yourself smiling. "You want to romance me?"
"SO MUCH," Fizz said. "Like, an embarrassing amount. Ozzie's got a whole Sinterest board."
"I do not have a Sinterest board," Ozzie said, his face heating in what might have been embarrassment.
"You have a MENTAL Sinterest board," Fizz countered. "I've seen you planning. There was a list. A LIST, Ozzie!"
You couldn't help itâyou laughed. Really laughed, the tension breaking apart. "You made a list?"
"I like to be organized," Ozzie said with as much dignity as he could muster. "Is that a crime?"
"It's ADORABLE," Fizz declared. "He's got like, date ideas and everything. Museums. Restaurants. That one park in Pride he thinks you'd likeâ"
"Fizzy!" Ozzie's flames flickered brightly across his mane for a few seonds.
"WHAT? She should know you're serious about this! You don't make lists for just anyone, babe!"
You looked at Ozzie, who was looking decidedly uncomfortable, and felt something warm bloom in your chest. "You really made a list?"
"I wanted to be prepared," Ozzie said quietly. "In case you said yes."
"In case Iâ" You stopped, processing. "You really want this. Both of you."
"YES!" Fizz said, throwing his hands up. "That's what we've been SAYING! How many times do we have toâ"
"I'm nervous," you blurted out, cutting him off. "I'm really nervous. I've never done anything like this. And you're both soâyou're so good together, and what if I mess it up? What if I get jealous or weird orâ"
"Then we talk about it," Ozzie said firmly. "That's the whole point. Communication. If you're feeling jealous, you tell us. If something bothers you, you tell us. We work through it together."
"We're not expecting you to be perfect, cutie," Fizz added, his voice softer now. "We're not perfect either. Hell, I'm a disaster most days. But we want to try this. With you. If you want to try it with us."
You looked between them. Ozzie, watching you with patient hope. Fizz, practically vibrating with barely contained excitement but trying to stay calm for your sake.
"Can we really go slow?" you asked. "Like, really slow? Because I need time to make sure im navigating this properly."
"As slow as you need," Ozzie promised. "No pressure, no expectations."
You took a deep breath. "Okay."
"Okay?" Fizz asked, his eyes widening. "Okay as inâ"
"Okay as in yes," you said, feeling your face heat. "I want to try. With both of you."
The smile that broke across Fizz's face was blinding. "OH MY SATAN, SHE SAID YES! Ozzie, she said yes! This is happening! We're gonnaâ"
"Breathe Froggie," Ozzie interrupted, but he was smiling too, soft and genuine. "Let her finish her breakfast before you start planning the wedding."
"I'm not planning the WEDDING," Fizz protested. "I'm planning A date! Which might lead to the WEDDING! We're gonnaâ"
"Fizz," you interrupted gently, reaching across to take his hand. "Thank you. For being patient. And for wanting this."
Fizz's expression melted into something unbearably soft. "Yeah, cutie. Of course."
And as you sat there, eating breakfast with yourâyou weren't quite sure what to call them yet, but they were yours in some wayâyou felt something settle in your chest.
This was terrifying. This was new. This was completely outside your experience.
When you stumble into a bar just trying to escape the chaos outside, the last thing you expect is to catch the attention of Hell's most famous jester imp. One involuntary guest spot later, and you've caught the attention of both Fizzarolli and Asmodeusâwho quickly realize you aren't supposed to be here.
As the King of Lust and his performer boyfriend take you under their wing, what starts as protective concern slowly becomes something deeper.
Between Fizz's chaotic energy that makes you laugh despite everything and Ozzie's gentle reassurances that maybe this place isn't so bad, you find yourself building a lifeâin the last place you ever expected.
But when the truth finally surfacesâyou're faced with an impossible choice: return to a life you barely remember, or stay in Hell with the two beings who've become your entire world.
The palace was quiet in that particular way that meant you were completely alone. Ozzie and Fizz had left for work earlierâOzzie to handle some kind of important meeting at the club, Fizz for rehearsals or a performance or something equally impressive that you didn't fully understand. They'd both said goodbye, Fizz with an elaborate bow and Ozzie with that soft look he sometimes got that made your chest feel tight.
You found yourself wandering the palace at a loose end. You could watch TV, but you'd been doing a lot of that lately. You could read, but the books in Ozzie's library were either about topics you didn't understand or were... extremely inappropriate.
Your eyes landed on a pile of mail stacked haphazardly on the kitchen counter.
It wasn't snooping if you were just organizing it, right? That was helpful. That was being a good houseguest.
You started sortingâbills in one pile, what looked like business correspondence in another, personal letters in a third. There was a surprising amount of fan mail addressed to Fizz, which you set aside carefully. Some of the envelopes had lipstick marks on them, some of them had other werid marks on them, which you tried very hard not to think about.
Once the mail was organized, you looked around the kitchen and lounge. Both spaces were already pretty cleanâOzzie had staff who maintained the palaceâbut there were small things. Dishes in the sink from breakfast. A coffee mug Fizz had left on the side table. Some of Precious's toys scattered across the floor.
Small things you could handle.
You washed the dishes, dried them, put them away. You gathered up the scattered toys and put them in the designated basket. You managed to wipe down the counters, with only minimal difficulties, straightened the couch cushions, and even attempted to organize the throw pillows in a way that looked intentional rather than chaotic.
It felt good to be useful. To contribute something, even if it was small. Ozzie and Fizz had been so kind to you, letting you stay here, taking you on trips, treating you like... like you mattered. The least you could do was help around the house.
You were just finishing up, feeling accomplished and maybe a little bit proud of yourself, when you noticed a newspaper on the coffee table that you'd somehow missed during your cleaning spree.
Lust Ring News the header proclaimed in bold, flashy letters.
Tabloids were trash, everyone knew that. But curiosity won out, and you picked it up, flipping through the pages.
The headline screamed across the third page in letters that seemed designed to be as sensational as possible:
"ASMODEUS'S NEWEST PLAYTHING: SIN OF LUST SEEN WITH MYSTERY DEMON IN WRATH!"
Below it were photos. Several of them. You and Ozzie at the restaurant, sitting across from each other. You on his shoulder at the carnival, your face partially visible under your red hood. Ozzie holding out his hand to you, the gesture looking far more intimate in freeze-frame than it had been in the moment.
Your hands started shaking as you read the article.
"Hell's hottest Sin was spotted with what witnesses are calling his latest toy in the Wrath, and let us tell youâthings got FILTHY! The mysterious hooded womanâwhose species remains unknown but whose purpose is VERY clearâwas seen dining with Asmodeus at a local establishment before the pair took their debauchery to a family carnival. Yes, you read that right. A FAMILY carnival.
Because nothing says 'wholesome family fun' like the embodiment of Lust publicly pawing at his newest conquest, am I right?
Who is this mystery demon who's currently warming the Sin of Lust's bed? Witnesses describe them as 'small,' 'desperate for attention,' and 'literally crawling all over him.' The pair were seen engaging in what can only be described as public foreplay, with the hooded figure allowing Asmodeus to manhandle them in full view of children and families.
'It was disgusting,' said one anonymous source. 'They had no shame. The figure was sitting on his shoulder like some kind of trained pet, and Asmodeus couldn't keep his hands off them. There were CHILDREN present!'
So what species is this mystery figure ? Speculation is running wild. Some say succubus, others claim it's a shape-shifter who's taken on a form designed to appeal to the Sin's specific tastes. A few sources suggest it might be something more exoticâperhaps a crossbreed? Whatever they are, they're clearly willing to debase themselves publicly for a taste of power.
And speaking of debasement, sources close to the Sin report that this isn't the first time the hooded figure has been seen at Asmodeus's palace. 'A new figure has been seen living there for months,' claims our insider. 'Probably co-habitating with Asmodeus and the hottest Jester in hell'
Is this just another disposable toy for Hell's sluttiest Sin? Or has this mystery demon found a way to sink their claws in deeper? One thing's for certainâwhoever they are, they're clearly willing to do ANYTHING to stay in Asmodeus's good graces. And we do mean anything.
When reached for comment, representatives for Asmodeus told us toâand we quoteâ'go fuck ourselves with a cactus.' How charming! Nothing says 'innocent outing' like that level of hostility, right?
Stay tuned, dear readers. We'll be keeping a very close eye on this developing story. And we're taking bets on how long this one lasts before Asmodeus gets bored and tosses them back to whatever gutter they crawled out of!"
The newspaper fell from your numb fingers.
They said you where desperate. A-A toy.
That you were debasing yourself. That you were willing to do "anything."
Your vision blurred with tears as you grabbed the paper again, looking at the photos with fresh horror. The one of you at the restaurantâthe caption read "Mystery slut begs for attention." The one on Ozzie's shoulderâ"Public display of ownership." The shot of you laughing during the balloon makingâ"New Toy performs for her master."
Every innocent moment, every happy memory from that day, twisted into something vile and crude and wrong.
And the speculation about you using him, about being disposable, about being thrown back to whatever gutter you crawled fromâ
You felt sick.
They didn't even know you were human. They assumed you were a demon, someone who knew what they were doing, someone who was choosing to debase themselves for power and shelter andâ
But you weren't. You would never. Ozzie had been nothing but kind to you, and Fizz too, and the thought that anyone would think you wereâthat you were trading sex for securityâthat you'd ever consider interfering with the love Fizz and Ozzie shared.
The tears came harder now, hot and fast and unstoppable.
You'd ruined everything. By being seen with Ozzie, by accepting his kindness, by not thinking about how it would look to othersâyou'd created this. These disgusting articles that painted you as something dirty and shameful.
And Ozzieâgod, Ozzie worked so hard to keep his relationship with Fizz private. You knew that, even if they'd never explicitly said it. You'd seen the way they were careful about public displays of affection, the way Ozzie's public persona was so different from who he was at home.
And now here you were, splashed across the tabloids as his "latest plaything," his "newest conquest," someone so desperate and debased that they'd sleep with someone so clearly in loveâugh, as ifâOzzie would never look at you like thatânir would Fizz, you knew they only had eyes for each other.
Ozzie was in a meeting, and he was absolutely not paying attention.
He should be. This was importantâcontract negotiations with one of the Lust Ring's major suppliers. But his mind kept wandering, kept drifting back to yesterday. To the Wrath Ring. To you.
The way you'd looked so delighted by everythingâthe food, the carnival, the families. The way you'd giggled during your ridiculous balloon sword making. The way you'd felt, so warm and trusting, perched on his shoulder.
The way you'd said "that's Fizz's spot" with such unconscious certainty, like the idea of sharing space with him and Fizz was anything other then natural, obvious, right, he and Froggie really had to talk to you ... and soon.
He found himself imagining what it might be like. The three of you, together. Not just coexisting in the same space, but actually together.
Lazy mornings with you tucked between him and Fizz in their massive bed, safe and warm. Your body fitting perfectly against both of them, skin against skin, the way you'd probably make these soft sleepy sounds when you first woke up. Fizz would tease you about being adorable, and you'd blush that pretty pink color and Ozzie would have to resist the urge to see what other activities might make you flush like that.
Watching you walk around the palace in the morning, maybe wearing one of Fizz's shirts because everything he owned was obviously far to big. The mental image made heat pool low in his stomach. You'd probably be completely unaware of how appealing you looked, would just smile at them over breakfast like you didn't drive them both crazy.
Taking showers togetherâhe'd have to be so careful with you, so gentle, but the idea of washing your hair, of learning every knot in your body and how to undo it, of hearing what sounds you'd make if he was given the privilege of having his hands slide lowerâ
He shifted in his seat, trying to focus his attention back on the meeting.
But his mind had other ideas. His factory, where he designed and manufactured toys. He'd never made anything for someone like you beforeânever had a need to in lustâsomething for someone human and delicate. It would require careful consideration. Precise measurements. Multiple prototypes, probably, to ensure everything was sized correctly, that nothing would hurt you, that it would only bring pleasure.
He found himself mentally sketching designs. Something smooth, not too largeâhe'd have to make sure it wouldn't be overwhelming. Maybe something with adjustable settings, variable intensity. Perhaps even something custom-shaped, designed specifically for your body, for the way you'd respond.
The color should be blue. The thought of you using something he'd made, something that color, thinking of him while youâ
His face flushed brightly enough that several people in the meeting looked at him with concern.
"Are you alright, Asmodeus?" someone asked.
"Fine," he said, his voice rougher than intended. "Please continue."
But his mind was already spiraling further. Teaching you how to use it. Watching you discover what you liked, what felt good. Maybe he and Fizz would be there, guiding you, showing you, their hands joining yours until you were trembling and gasping andâ
He imagined the three of you in bed together properly. Not just sleeping, but actually together. You'd probably be nervous at first, Ozzie knew how overwhelming he could be, they'd take their time. Fizz would make you laugh even in the bedroom, his Froggie could ease your nerves with his humor before things got anywhere near heated. And Ozzie would be careful, so careful, mindful of the size difference, making sure every touch brought you nothing but enthusiastic pleasure.
The sounds you'd make. The way you'd look at them with trust even in such vulnerable moments. How your body would feel against his much larger one, the challenge and the reward of finding positions that worked, that felt good for all of you.
Fizz was more your sizeâhe could take the lead in certain activities while Ozzie watched, touched, participated in other ways. The mental image of the two of you together while Ozzie's hands roamed over both of you, the contrast in sizes, the way you'd both fit against himâ
"Asmodeus, your thoughts on the proposed terms?"
Ozzie blinked, pulled abruptly back to reality. He realized his expressions were probably making him look predatory rather than professional right now.
"Iâyes. The terms are acceptable. Proceed with the contract."
He had no idea what terms he'd just agreed to. He'd figure it out later.
His mind was already drifting again, coming home to you after long days. You greeting them at the door, maybe on your tiptoes trying to reach up for a kiss. Eventually learning that you didn't have to ask permission, that you could touch him whenever you wanted, however you wanted.
Dates. Real dates, all three of you. Taking you to nice restaurants, Fizzy making you laugh, Ozzie watching you both with possessive satisfaction. Bringing you back home and showing you exactly how much he'd enjoyed watching you both smile all evening.
The factory designs continued to evolve in his mind. Multiple toys, actually. Perhaps a whole collection. Different sizes, different functions. Some for when you were alone, some for when you were together. Remote-controlled options so he or Fizz could tease you even from across the room.
His phone buzzed. A reminder about another meeting in thirty minutes.
Ozzie stood abruptly. "Excuse me. Something urgent has come up."
He needed a cold shower. Or a very long break. Or maybe just to go home and see you, confirm that you were real and not just a fantasy his mind had constructed to mess with both him and Froggie.
But the images lingered. You in his arms. You safe and happy, wanting for nothing.
Soon, maybe. If he was lucky enough. If you wanted them too.
If he could just work up the courage to tell you how he felt.
Fizz was supposed to be rehearsing a new routine.
Instead, he was sprawled in the stage rigging, staring at the stage below him, thinking about you.
Specifically, thinking about you in ways that would definitely make you blush that adorable shade of pink that you turned whenever either he or Ozzie said something even mildly flirtatious.
He couldn't help it. You were so sweet, so completely unaware of the effect you had on both of them. The way you'd looked at him during his performance yesterday, like he'd hung the moon. The way you'd waved so enthusiastically when you spotted him, no self-consciousness, just pure happiness.
And god, the mental image of you on Ozzie's shoulder, small and trusting and theirsâWell, potentially theirs.
The thing was, you were roughly his size. Not exactlyâyou still had a good few inches on him, and his build was differentâbut close enough that certain activities wouldn't require the same level of careful calibration that they would with Ozzie.
Fizz let himself imagine it properly. You in his arms, safe and warm between him and Oz, pressed against him withâIf he got really lucky maybe even with no clothing between you. Your skin against hisâagainst his scars.
The fantasy stuttered there, caught on an old fear.
His scars were extensive. Covered most of his body, really, hidden under his performer's outfit and his jester makeup. You'd never seen them. Never seen what he really looked like under all the bells and whistles and carefully maintained image.
Would you want him if you did? Would you look at him with soft, sweet affection, or would you flinch away?
He pushed the thought aside. Not helpful. Not now.
Back to the fantasy. You in his arms, and you weren't flinching, weren't pulling away. You were touching him, exploring, your hands mapping the planes of his body with curiosity. Maybe you'd trace the scars, ask about them, and he'd tell you because, like Ozzie one look and he'd never been able to hide anything from you.
And then you'd kiss himâreally kiss him, not the innocent pecks he'd imagined beforeâand your body would be pressed against his, soft and warm and perfect. You'd fit against him so perfectly, your height just right for him to pull you close, to bury his face in your neck, to hear every little sound you made.
The bedroom. His and Ozzie's bedroom, with you in their bed. Learning what made you gasp, what made you arch into his touch, what made you make cute little sounds. He'd be able to reach places Ozzie couldn't as easily, could move with you in ways the size difference would make tricky for Oz, perhaps the two of you could tease Oz ... Fizz let out a raspy chuckle at that.
Not that Ozzie wouldn't be involved in plenty of other ways. Oh satan, no. The best fantasies involved all three of you.
Fizz imagined being inside you while Ozzie's hands roamed over both of you. The Sin's large fingers could reach so many places at once, could touch you both, guide the rhythm, make Fizz forget his own name while he was buried in your heat.
Or maybe you riding him while he lay back and watched you move above him, would you be a bit switchy ? He'd wondered plenty of times but it wasnt exactly dinner conversation, your expression lost in pleasure, while Ozzie praised you both and told you exactly what to do, how to move, how to make it so goodâ
"Fizz! You alive up there?" one of the stage techs called.
"Yeah! Just contemplating my artistic vision!" Fizz called back, not moving from his position in the rigging.
His artistic vision currently involved significantly less clothing and significantly more of you making sounds he'd never heard but desperately wanted to help cause.
But there was more than just the physical stuff. The soft moments too, the ones that scared him more than anything.
Waking up with you in his arms, your face relaxed in sleep, peaceful and trusting. No makeup between you, no costume, just him. Scars and jagged horns and all the parts of him he usually hid. And you'd wake up and look at him and not see something fucked up. Just see him.
The horns worried him. You probably didn't even know what horns meant to an imp, didn't understand the significance. His were burned off, had been since the accident, and they marked him as damaged in ways that went beyond the physical. Would you care? Would it matter to you?
Or would you just smile at him like you always did, like he was worth something beyond his performance value?
Teaching you things. Not just bedroom thingsâthough definitely those tooâbut other things. How to juggle, maybe. How to do a backflip. Stupid shit that would make you laugh and make him feel useful for something other than performing.
Inside jokes. The kind that developed over time, over months and years of living together. References only the three of you would understand. A whole language built on shared experiences and private moments.
Coming home after shows to find you waiting. Lazy mornings where you'd trace his skin and ask questions and he'd answer honestly because you made him feel safe enough to be vulnerable. Afternoons where you'd curl up together and do nothing. Evenings where the three of you would tangle together in bed and it wouldn't even be about sex, just about being close, being together.
You, looking at him without his makeup. Seeing his real face, the scarring there too, and not looking away. Touching his cheek, his jaw, telling him he was handsome or pretty or whatever word you'd choose.
You, accepting every part of him. The performer and the Imp. The jokes and the insecurities. The body that was part organic and part mechanical.
"Fizz, seriously, we need to run through the routine!"
"Shit, yeah, sorry I'm coming!" Fizz flipped to his feet, shaking off the daydream.
But it lingered. The hope. The possibility. The terrifying, wonderful idea that maybe you could want him. All of him. Exactly as he was.
You'd tried to stop. You'd tried to pull yourself together, to clean your face, to act normal. But every time you thought you had control, you'd see those photos again in your mind, read those awful words, and the tears would start fresh. You were crying when they came home.
You heard the front door open, heard Fizz's voice calling out cheerfully, "We're home! Did you miss us?"
You wanted to hide. You wanted to disappear. You wanted to not exist so you couldn't cause them any more problems.
But before you could move, they were there. In the lounge. Seeing you curled up on the couch, tear-stained and miserable, the tabloid on the coffee table in front of you.
"Whoa, hey, what's wrong?" Fizz was there instantly, his arms extending to reach you even as he crossed the room. "Cutie, what the fuck happened?"
"I'm sorry," you choked out, and the words came tumbling out in a rush as you wiped at your eyes. "I'm so sorry, I didn'tâI didn't think about how it would look, and now there's photos and articles and they think I'm using you, and I ruined everything, and I'm so sorryâ"
"Slow down," Ozzie said, his voice gentle as he knelt beside the couch. "What are you talking about?"
You couldn't speak, could only point at the newspaper with a shaking hand.
Ozzie picked it up, his expression darkened with each line he read, and you felt your stomach drop even further. He was angry. Of course he was angry. You'd created this mess, this scandal, thisâ
"Oh, this is what you're upset about?" Fizz asked, reading over Ozzie's shoulder. "The tabloids? Cutie, the tabloids are trash. Nobody takes them seriously."
"But theyâthey think I'mâ" You couldn't even say it, couldn't voice the awful implications. "And the photos make it look like we wereâlike I wasâ"
"Like you were what?" Ozzie asked, setting the paper down and giving you his full attention. "Having a nice day out with me? Because that's what happened."
"But they're saying I'm using you!" The words burst out of you, along with a fresh wave of tears. "That I'm trying toâto climb a social ladder or seduce you orâand I'm not! I would never! You've been so kind to me, both of you, and I justâI just wanted to help around the house and be useful and instead I've caused this huge mess andâ"
Your voice broke completely, dissolving into sobs.
"Hey, hey, no," Fizz said, and suddenly he was on the couch beside you, pulling you into his arms. "No, no, no. You haven't caused a mess. This is just what the tabloids do. They're assholes who make up stories for attention, cauae there own lives are shitty."
"But the photosâ"
"Are photos of us having a good time," Ozzie said firmly. "Nothing more, nothing less. The captions are fabricated bullshit."
"I ruined your privacy," you said miserably into Fizz's chest. "You keep your relationship with Fizz private, and I justâI didn't thinkâ"
"Our relationship is still private," Ozzie assured you. "This article doesn't even mention Fizzy. Those motherfuckers saw you with me and jumped to their usual conclusions because that's what they do. It has nothing to do with reality."
"But everyone will thinkâ"
"Everyone who matters knows the truth," Fizz said, rubbing soothing circles on your back. "And everyone else can go fuck themselves."
"MmHmm," Ozzie said in agreement.
"It's true!" Fizz looked down at you, his expression softening when he saw your tear-stained face. "Cutie, listen to me. The tabloids have been printing shit about Ozzie for decades. They've called him every name in the book, made up every kind of scandal you can imagine. This is nothing new."
"And you," Ozzie added gently, reaching out to carefully touch your shoulder with one finger, "are not using me. You're not climbing any social ladders. You're not manipulating anyone. You're a guest in our home, someone I care deeply about, and I wanted to show you a nice time. That's all."
"I cleaned the kitchen," you said nonsensically, your brain apparently short-circuiting from stress and tears. "And sorted your mail I was trying to be helpful."
"You are helpful," Fizz said, sounding almost fierce about it. "You're fucking wonderful, actually. And if some garbage tabloid tries to paint you as anything less than that, they're wrong."
"I don't want to cause you guys problems by being here," you whispered.
"Your the furtherest thing from a problem" Ozzie said, and his voice held such certainty that you almost believed him. "This is not your fault. The tabloids are going to print what they're going to print regardless of what we do. That's the nature of being a Sin. But that doesn't make any of their words true."
You wanted to believe them. You did believe them, in a way. But the hurt was still there, the fear that you'd damaged something precious, that you'd overstepped somehow.
"Come here," Ozzie said softly, offering his hand.
You let him lift you from Fizz's arms, let him cradle you carefully against his chest. His warmth was soothing, and you could hear the rumble of his voice when he spoke.
"You are welcome here," he said firmly. "In our home, in our life. A garbage tabloid doesn't change that. I needâWe need you to understand that, okay?"
You nodded against his chest, even though part of you still felt raw and scared.
"Good," Ozzie said. "Now, I'm going to make some calls and ensure that rag prints a retraction. And possibly make their lives very difficult for a while."
"Ozzieâ" you started.
"No one makes you cry and gets away with it," he said, and there was steel under the gentleness. "That's non-negotiable."
Despite everything, you felt a small smile tug at your lips. "Okay."
"Okay," he agreed. Then, softer "We've got you, little one. Both Froggie and I. Always."
And surrounded by their warmth, their certainty, their careâyou finally started to believe it might be true.
Warnings â ïž: it's hell ? ... lecherous dudes, Canon typical violence, swearing, clowns, eventual smut, some canon typical religious overtones, alcohol consumption, lusty aesthetics, angst, blood, medical care, feelings of despair.
Part 8 | Part 10
Hell-ish Heartbeats đđđ P.9
You were sprawled on the floor of the lounge, completely surrounded by quieves.
There were twelve of them in totalâa chaotic swarm of fluffy, flying, yapping creatures that had decided you were the most interesting thing in the palace today. Most of them were zooming around, doing aerial loops and play-fighting with each other, but a few had settled in your lap.
"Okay, okay, one at a time!" you laughed as three of them tried to lick your face simultaneously. "I only have two hands!"
You'd learned their names over the past few days. There was Spark, the rambunctious one who kept trying to steal treats. Nibbles, the small one with a grey patch who lived up to his name by gently chewing on everything. Zoom and Zap, the twins who were impossible to tell apart. And then there was Precious.
Precious was the little white quieve in the custom-made wheelchairâa tiny contraption that Ozzie had built himself when they'd rescued her with paralyzed back legs. She couldn't fly like the others, but she could zoom around on the ground, and right now she was rolling in circles around you, yapping excitedly.
"Hey Precious!" you said, reaching out to give her scritches. "You want to play too? Here, catch!"
You rolled a small ball across the floor, and Precious immediately zoomed after it, her little wheels whirring. When she caught up to it, she yapped triumphantly and used her front paws to push it back toward you.
"Good girl! You're so smart!" You rolled it again, making sure to include her in the game even as the flying quieves swooped down to try to intercept.
From the couch, Ozzie and Fizz watched with matching soft expressions.
"She's really good with them," Ozzie observed quietly.
"She's good with everything," Fizz said, his bells jingling softly as he leaned against Ozzie's side. "Did you see her make sure Precious was included? Without us even asking? She just... noticed and did it."
"I noticed." Ozzie's voice was warm. "She's got a kind heart."
"The kindest," Fizz agreed, watching as you laughed when Spark tried to nest in your pocket. "So... are we doing this? The thing we talked about?"
"That was the plan." Ozzie glanced at his boyfriendâbusiness partnerâwhatever they were calling it today. "Subtle see if she notices. Testing the waters."
"Right. Subtle. I can do subtle." Fizz paused. "Or, hear me out, I could do the thing where Iâ"
"No."
"You don't even know what I was gonna say!"
"You were going to suggest something wildly inappropriate that would absolutely terrify her."
"It wouldn't terrify her! It would be funny! And flirty! Andâ"
"Froggie." Ozzie's tone was firm but fond. "We agreed. Subtle. Sweet. Non-threatening. We're not trying to seduce her like we would other demons. We're trying to let her know we're interested without overwhelming her."
"I know, I know." Fizz's bells chimed with resignation. "No sexual jokes. No innuendos. No suggestions involving whipped cream, ropes, or that thing we did last Tuesday... which we should really try again Big Daddy."
"Exactly."
"You're taking all the fun out of flirting."
"I'm taking the terror out of flirting. There's a difference." Ozzie pressed a kiss to Fizz's forehead. "Just be yourself. The sweet version of yourself. The one who does tricks to make her laugh."
"I can do that." Fizz watched you for a moment, a soft smile on his face. "She really is beautiful, isn't she? Like, genuinely beautiful. Not in the 'hot demon' way. In the 'I want to wake up next to her' way."
"She is," Ozzie agreed quietly. "And if we're lucky, maybe she'll feel the same way about us."
"Only one way to find out." Fizz's bells jingled as he stood up. "Time to turn on the Fizzarolli charm! The PG-rated version!"
"That's my sweet boy," Ozzie said, amused.
You were still playing with the quieves when Fizz bounced over, his bells announcing his arrival.
"Hey cutie! Having fun with the kids?"
"They're so sweet!" you said, giggling as Nibbles chewed on your sleeve. "I can't believe you have twelve of them!"
"Well, we went to the shelter for one, and then there were six of them who were siblings, and we couldn't separate them, and then Precious was there and she needed special care so obviously we had to take herâ" Fizz settled onto the floor beside you with fluid grace. "âand then a few months later we found five more that needed homes and, well, here we are!"
"That's really sweet," you said softly. "You and Ozzie have big hearts."
"Ozzie has a big heart. I just have poor impulse control around cute things." His grin was warm. "Speaking of cute things, that dress you wore the other day? Looked amazing."
"Oh! Thank you." You felt your face heat slightly. "It was one you picked at the market."
"OoooOoo, guess I have excellent taste." He extended one of his mechanical arms to gently boop Spark on the nose when the quieve tried to nip at his hat. "But it wasn't just the dress. You look happier. Relaxed. It was really nice to see."
"I think im really settling in here." You said with a soft expression. "Is that a good thing?"
"It's a great thing!" His bells jingled as he shifted closer, and you noticed his eyes were a really interesting mix of pinks up close. "But seriously, you're... you're really special, you know that?"
"Pfft, I don't know about specialâ"
"You are. You're sweet and kind and brave about this whole living in hell thing and you laugh at my jokes even when they're terribleâ"
"Your jokes aren't terrible!"
"Some of them are definitely terrible. But you laugh anyway, and that's..." He trailed off, his expression going softer than you'd ever seen it. "That's really nice. You're really nice. I'm glad you fell into Hell."
"That's probably the weirdest compliment I've ever gotten," you said, smiling.
"Yeah, well, I'm a weird guy!" He did a little flourish with his mechanical arms, making them create a heart shape. "But weird in a charming way, right?"
"Definitely charming," you agreed.
His smile got wider, something genuinely pleased and happy crossing his face. "Good. That's good."
You didn't notice the way he lingered close, or how his expression was calmer almost content. You were too busy wondering why he was being so nice to you today. Had something happened? Was he in an extra good mood?
Later, you found yourself in the libraryâa new room you'd discovered a few weeks ago that was absolutely packed with books. You were trying to reach one on a higher shelf, standing on your tiptoes and stretching, when a large hand reached past you and easily grabbed it.
"This one?" Ozzie's voice rumbled behind you.
"Yes! Thank you!" You turned to find him much closer than expected. Even with you on tiptoes, you still had to crane your neck to look up at him.
"What are you reading?" He handed you the book, and his fingers brushed against yours. It was probably an accident, but you noticed how warm his hand was.
"It's about Hell's history. I figured I should learn more about where I'm living."
"That's very thoughtful." He didn't move away, instead leaning against the bookshelf in a way that somehow made him seem less imposing. "Finding everything alright?"
"Yes, this library is amazing. Do you use it often?"
"Sometimes. Froggie prefers the entertainment room, but I like it in here. It's quiet. Peaceful." His glowing eyes were fixed on you with an intensity that made your heart beat a little faster. "Good place for conversation."
"It is nice," you agreed, trying to figure out why you suddenly felt nervous.
"You know," Ozzie said, his voice lower now, more intimate, "I've been thinking about the other day. In Wrath."
"Oh god, the balloon thingâ"
"No, not that. Before that." He shifted slightly, and somehow he seemed even closer without actually moving. "Watching you try Hell food. Seeing you be so brave about everything, even when you were out of your comfort zone. It was... attractive."
You blinked. "Attractive?"
"Very attractive. You're not afraid to try new things, even when they're intimidating. That takes courage." His hand came up to rest on the bookshelf beside your head, not caging you in but creating a sense of closeness. "I admire that about you."
"Iâthank you?" You weren't sure why your face was burning. "I'm just adapting, I guess."
"You're doing more than adapting. You're thriving." His voice was warm, sincere. "You've made yourself at home here. Made friends with the quieves. Made Fizz happier than I've seen him in ages. Made me..." He paused, seeming to choose his words carefully. "Made me look forward to coming home every day."
"Really?" Your voice came out smaller than intended.
"Really." He smiled, and it was soft and genuine. "It's good for us. Having you here. I hope you know that."
"Being here is good for me too," you said honestly. "I don't know what I would have done without you guys."
"You would have figured it out. You're resourceful." He reached out and gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch feather-light. "But I'm glad you didn't have to. I'm glad you're here."
Your heart was doing strange things in your chest. Why was he being so intense? He was in love with with Fizz, was this how demons showed friendship? This was kind of intense, You had so much to learn about Hell culture.
"I'm glad I'm here too," you managed.
He smiled, something pleased and warm in his expression, before straightening up. "I should let you get to your reading. But if you need any more books from high shelves, I'm always happy to help."
"Thank you, Ozzie."
"Anytime, little one."
He left, and you stood there for a long moment, trying to figure out why your face was still hot and your heart was still racing.
Later that afternoon, you decided to clean the kitchen. Ozzie and Fizz had both protestedâ"You're our guest!" "You don't have to clean!"âbut you'd insisted. They'd done so much for you, the least you could do was help keep the palace tidy.
The problem was that the kitchen was designed for demons. Specifically, demons who were either Ozzie-sized or could extend their limbs like Fizz. For someone who was decidedly neither of those things, the upper cabinets might as well have been on the moon.
You looked at the top shelves that needed wiping down, then at the bottom cabinets.
Well. The drawers were pretty sturdy, fuck it you'd just use them again.
You opened the bottom drawersâthe big, heavy ones designed for pots and pansâand carefully stepped onto the corner of one, using it as a makeshift step. It held your weight easily, and you were able to reach the upper cabinets now.
You didn't hear Fizz and Ozzie enter the kitchen.
"Oh my satan," Fizz whispered, his bells barely jingling. "Oz. Oz, look."
"I see it," Ozzie murmured back.
"She's standing on the drawer."
"I can see that, Fizzy"
"She's so small she has to stand on the drawer to reach the normal cabinets."
"Yes, Froggie, I'm aware."
"That's the cutest fucking thing I've ever seen in my entire life."
"Agreed."
"I'm dying. I'm actually dying. This is how I go. Death by cute human standing on kitchen drawers."
"You're being dramatic."
"I'M BEING ACCURATE!" Fizz whisper-yelled. "Look at her! She's on her tiptoes! On top of the drawer! That's like, double tiptoes! That's advanced cuteness!"
You turned around, startled to find both of them staring at you. "Oh! Hi! I was just cleaning upâ"
"You don't have to clean!" Fizz said immediately, bouncing forward. "We have people who clean! Well, Ozzie has people. I'm included in the 'we' because I live here!"
"I know, but I wanted to help." You gestured at the cabinets. "I just had to get creative with the height thing."
"Creative," Ozzie repeated, and there was something almost fond in his tone. "That's one word for it."
"Did you need something?" you asked, carefully stepping down from the drawer.
"Just came to see what you were up to," Fizz said, his bells jingling. "But now I'm thinking we should get you a step stool. Like a proper one. Maybe two. One for every room."
"I'm fine with the drawersâ"
"No, no, Fizz is right," Ozzie interjected. "We should get you a step stool. Several, actually. Custom-made ones that are the right height."
"You don't have to go to that much troubleâ"
"It's not trouble," Ozzie said firmly. "You shouldn't have to climb on furniture to reach things."
"Plus, as cute as it isâ" Fizz started, then caught Ozzie's look. "âI mean, as practical as it is, it's probably not the safest!"
"Exactly," Ozzie agreed. "Safety first."
You looked between them, confused by the weird energy in the room. "Are you two okay?"
"Perfect! Totally perfect! Never better!" Fizz said, bells jingling rapidly. "Why would you think something was wrong?"
"You're both acting strange."
"Strange? Us? We're always strange! It's part of our charm!" Fizz did a little spin. "Anyway, since you're done cleaningâwhich again, you don't have to doâwant to help me convince Ozzie to cook too much food for dinner?"
"What are we having tonight?" you asked.
"Something amazing!" Fizz announced. "and also probably too spicy for normal consumption!"
"I can make it not spicy," Ozzie protested.
"You say that every time and every time it's still at least a little spicy."
"That's because a little spice enhances the flavor!"
You watched them bicker, smiling. They were always like thisâteasing and affectionate and so obviously in love with each other.
It made you happy to see. They deserved each other.
While you went to change out of your cleaning clothes, Fizz and Ozzie remained in the kitchen. Ozzie had started pulling out ingredients for dinner, and Fizz was perched on the counter, watching.
"She stood on the drawer," Fizz said again.
"I know, Fizz. I was there."
"No, but like, she STOOD on the DRAWER. Because she's too short to reach otherwise. And she just... did it. Didn't ask for help, didn't complain, just problem-solved her way into being the most adorable thing I've ever seen."
Ozzie was chopping vegetables with practiced ease. "She is pretty adorable."
"Pretty adorable? PRETTY adorable? Oz, that was weaponized cuteness. That was cuteness as a deadly force. I'm not going to recover from this."
"You're being dramatic again."
"I'm being HONEST." Fizz's bells jingled as he kicked his legs. "And don't even pretend you weren't affected. I saw your face. You had the same 'I want to protect this person forever' expression you get when I'm being particularly cute."
"I don't have an expressionâ"
"You absolutely do. It's very obvious. Very telling." Fizz grinned. "So how'd your flirting go earlier? In the library?"
Ozzie paused in his chopping. "I'm not sure she noticed it was flirting."
"What'd you do?"
"Told her she was attractive. That she made me look forward to coming home. Tucked her hair behind her ear."
"Ooh, the hair tuck! That's a classic!" Fizz's bells chimed approvingly. "And?"
"And she smiled and thanked me and then asked about Hell culture like she thought I was just being friendly."
Fizz laughed, the sound bright and genuine. "She's so oblivious! It's amazing!"
"It's concerning. How are we supposed to flirt with her if she doesn't realize we're flirting with her?"
"Maybe we need to be more obvious?"
"We agreed on subtle!"
"Yeah, but subtle isn't working if she thinks we're just being nice!" Fizz gestured emphatically. "She probably thinks we're just friendly because we already have each other. Like, why would we be interested in her when we've got our whole thing going?"
Ozzie stopped chopping entirely, turning to look at Fizz. "That's... actually probably exactly what she thinks."
"Right? We need to make it clear that we want her too. That it's not just you and me. That it could be all three of us."
"Without terrifying her."
"Without terrifying her," Fizz agreed. "Which is tricky because the whole concept of 'hey, do you want to date two demons from lust at the same time' is probably not something she's ever considered."
Ozzie resumed his cooking, thinking. "We keep doing what we're doing. Gentle flirting. Showing her we care. Making it clear she's important to us. Eventually, she'll either figure it out or we'll have to just... tell her."
"The direct approach. Bold. I like it." Fizz's bells jingled. "Did you see her face when I told her she looked amazing? She blushed SO hard!"
"She blushes when you tell her literally anything."
"Yeah, but this was a GOOD blush! An 'I'm flustered because someone I like said something nice' blush!"
"You're reading into it."
"I'm interpreting data!" Fizz protested. "I'm a performer, Oz. I know how to read an audience. And that audience of one is definitely not unaffected by our flirting. She just doesn't recognize it as flirting yet."
"Yet," Ozzie repeated, hopeful.
"Yet," Fizz confirmed. "She'll figure it out. And when she does..." His grin turned softer. "I think she might actually like us back."
"You think?"
"I think she already does. She just doesn't know it yet."
Ozzie considered this as he worked. "That's a very optimistic interpretation."
"Hey, someone in this relationship has to be optimistic! You're always so worried about everything!"
"I'm being responsible, shes human after all."
"You're a worrywart. It's cute but also unnecessary." Fizz hopped down from the counter and wrapped his mechanical arms around Ozzie from behind, bells chiming softly as he nipped playfully at his jaw. "We're going to be okay. All three of us. I can feel it."
Ozzie's hand came up to cover Fizz's. "I hope you're right, Froggie."
"I'm always right! Well, mostly right! Occasionally right! Right enough!"
"That's comforting."
"Isn't it?"
By the time dinner was finishedâOzzie had made something that was actually not too spicy, probably for your benefitâFizz had already set up what he called "the ultimate movie night experience."
Which apparently meant enough snacks to feed an army.
"Fizz, this is too much," you said, staring at the coffee table that was now completely covered in bowls and plates and packages.
"There's no such thing as too much when it comes to snacks!" Fizz declared, as he arranged everything just so. "We've got sweet, salty, crunchy, chewy, chocolate, fruit, chips, cookies, candyâ"
"Fizz bought one of everything in the pantry," Ozzie said, settling onto the couch. "I tried to stop him."
"You cannot stop the snack master!" Fizz announced dramatically. "Now come on, sit! Get comfortable! We're watching a movie!"
You settled onto the couch beside themâsomehow that had become your spotâand looked at the options Fizz was scrolling through.
"What are we watching?" you asked.
"I was thinking a comedy! Something light and fun! Unless you want action? Or romance? Orâ"
"Comedy sounds good," you said.
"Comedy it is!" Fizz selected something that looked appropriately silly. "This one's about a demon who accidentally gets sent to the human world and has to pretend to be human. It's hilarious."
The movie started, and Fizz immediately began providing commentary. "Oh, this part is greatâwatch, watchâsee, he's trying to use a toaster and he has no idea howâ"
"Fizz, she can see the screen," Ozzie said, amused.
"I'm enhancing the experience!"
"You're talking through the movie."
"That's what makes it better!"
You laughed, reaching for some of the popcorn. "I don't mind. It's like having a live directors commentary track."
"See? She appreciates my commentary!" Fizz's bells jingled triumphantly. "I'm enriching the viewing experience!"
As the movie progressed, you found yourself relaxing more and more. The couch was comfortable, the snacks were good, and the company was even better. Fizz kept up his running commentary, making you laugh even during the parts that weren't particularly funny. Ozzie occasionally added his own dry observations that somehow made everything funnier.
At some point, you realized you'd shifted closer to both of them. Fizz had his mechanical arm stretched along the back of the couch behind you, not quite touching but close enough to be aware of. Ozzie had angled himself so he could see both you and the screen, his presence warm and solid beside you.
It felt... nice. Safe. Like home.
"Oh, this is my favorite part!" Fizz said suddenly, sitting up. "Watch thisâ"
The demon in the movie attempted to drive a car and immediately crashed into a mailbox. Fizz laughed so hard his bells jingled chaotically, and you found yourself laughing too, more at his reaction than the movie itself.
"See? COMEDY!" Fizz gestured at the screen. "Pure gold!"
"It's pretty funny," you admitted.
"Pretty funny? It's HILARIOUS!" Fizz reached for some candy, offering the bowl to you first. "Want some?"
"Thank you." You took a few pieces, your fingers brushing his. You didn't notice the way both he and Ozzie had that contented look again.
The movie continued, and you became gradually more aware of how comfortable you were. How right this felt. Sitting here with Fizz and Ozzie, watching something silly, eating too many snacks, just... being together.
You glanced at themâFizz still providing commentary, Ozzie watching with fond amusementâand felt something warm curl in your chest.
You really liked it here. Liked them.
They were wonderful. Both of them. The way they took care of you, made you laugh, made you feel safe and valued and important.
And they were so good together. Such a perfect pair.
Later, after you'd gone to bed with a happy goodnight and a promise to do this again soon, Ozzie and Fizz got ready for their own bed.
"She has no idea," Fizz said, flopping onto the mattress. "Absolutely no idea that we were flirting with her all day."
"None whatsoever," Ozzie agreed, settling in beside him. "I literally told her she was attractive and she thanked me like I'd complimented her shoes."
"I made a heart with my arms and told her she was special and she thought I was just being nice!"
"She watched us be affectionate all night and probably just thought 'aw, they're so in love with each other.'"
"Which we are!" Fizz protested. "But we're also trying to be in love with HER and she's not picking up on it!"
Ozzie pulled Fizz close, chuckling. "We might need to be more direct."
"Or we could just tell her."
"'Hey, by the way, we both want to date you'? That seems like a good way to send her running."
"Okay, maybe not THAT direct." Fizz's bells jingled thoughtfully. "But we need to do something. Because this subtle flirting thing is not working."
"She liked movie night though."
"She loved movie night! Did you see how happy she was? All curled up, laughing at my jokes, eating snacks? That was perfect. That was everything I wanted."
"Me too," Ozzie said softly. "Having her there, comfortable and happy... it felt right."
"It felt like she belonged there. With us." Fizz shifted to look up at Ozzie. "She does belong there, right? I'm not crazy? This is what falling is supposed to feel like?"
"If you're crazy, then so am I. Because yes, Froggie, this is exactly what it's supposed to feel like."
"Good. That's good." Fizz snuggled closer. "So we keep trying? Keep flirting until she figures it out?"
"Keep trying," Ozzie confirmed. "And if she doesn't figure it out..." He paused. "Then eventually we sit her down and explain. Gently. Carefully. Making sure she knows there's no pressure."
"But hopefully she figures it out first."
"Hopefully."
"Because I really want to kiss her," Fizz said quietly. "Like, really badly. Is that weird?"
"Not weird. I want to kiss her too, obviously" Ozzie purred.
"Okay good. Because I've been thinking about it a lot. Like, a LOT a lot. How soft she'd be. How she'd probably make that cute little surprised sound. How her face would go all red afterâand then..."
"Fizzy, you're going to work yourself up."
"Too late! Already worked up! This is what you get for being all 'let's flirt with the cute human' without thinking about the consequences!"
"The consequences being you getting all flustered?"
"The consequences being BOTH of us getting all flustered because she's adorable and oblivious and perfect!"
Ozzie laughed, pressing a languid kiss to Fizz's lips. "Fair point."
They lay together in comfortable silence for a while.
"She stood on the drawer," Fizz said again, softly this time.
"I know, baby."
"So small. So cute. So determined to reach the cabinets."
"I'm getting her step stools."
"Good. But also, I hope she keeps standing on the drawers because it's the cutest thing I've ever seen."
"Fizzy Frog"
"What? I'm being honest! She can have the step stools AND stand on the drawers! I'm a generous man!"
"You're ridiculous."
"You love it."
"Unfortunately, I really do."
Fizz's bells jingled with contentment as he settled in for sleep. "She's going to figure it out eventually, right?"
"Eventually," Ozzie agreed. "And until then, we'll just keep showing her how much we care."
Warnings â ïž: it's hell ? ... lecherous dudes, Canon typical violence, swearing, clowns, eventual smut, some canon typical religious overtones, alcohol consumption, lusty aesthetics, angst, blood, medical care, feelings of despair.
Part 6 | Part 8
Hell-ish Heartbeats đđđ P.7
You woke up to sunlightâor whatever passed for sunlight in the Lust Ringâfiltering through the curtains. For a blissful moment, you forgot where you were. Then reality settled back in, gentle this time instead of panic-inducing.
Hell. Palace. Guest room. Ozzie and Fizz.
You were getting used to it, somehow.
You stretched and climbed out of the massive bed, padding over to the dresser where you'd put away the clothing you now had. Most of it was still the borrowed pajamas and palace guest stock, but there was one thing that had appeared yesterdayâa hoodie.
It was black with green and pink accents, and across the back was a stylized jester design with "FIZZAROLLI" emblazoned in bold letters. Fizz had left it on your bed with a note that just said "Thought you might want something extra comfy! - F"
You pulled it on over your shirt. It was a bit big on youâclearly sized for someone tallerâbut it was soft and warm and smelled faintly like the vanilla and smoke scent you'd come to associate with the palace.
Looking in the mirror, you had to smile. You were wearing Fizzarolli merch. In Hell. In a demon's palace. Your life had gotten so weird.
But weird was starting to feel okay.
You made your way through the corridorsâless lost this time, starting to learn the layoutâfollowing the sound of... yapping? High-pitched, excited yapping that echoed through the halls.
When you reached the lounge, you stopped in the doorway, taking in the scene.
Ozzie was sitting on the floorâwhich looked comical given his sizeâsurrounded by what could only be the quieves. They were small, flying creatures that looked like a cross between dogs and... bats? Maybe? They had fuzzy bodies, large ears, and small wings that buzzed as they zoomed around excitedly.
And there were so many of them.
"Okay, okay, one at a time!" Ozzie was saying, his deep voice patient and amused as he doled out food from a large bowl. "Yes, I see you. You'll get your turn. No, nooo, don't steal from your brotherâ"
One of the quieves noticed you in the doorway and immediately zoomed over, yapping excitedly. The others followed suit, and suddenly you were surrounded by a swarm of flying, fluffy creatures all trying to sniff and lick you at once.
"Oh! Hi?" you managed, laughing as one buzzed around your shoulder and another tried to nestle into your hoodie pocket.
"Alright, alright, leave her alone!" Ozzie called out, but he was smiling. "Come on. Breakfast first, then you can say hello."
The quieves reluctantly retreated, though a few kept looking back at you longingly.
"Sorry about that," Ozzie said, standing up with easy grace despite his size. "They're very enthusiastic about new people. Especially people who smell like Fizz's merchandise."
You looked down at the hoodie. "Is that why they're so interested?"
"Partially. They also just love attention." He gestured to the couch. "Have you eaten? I was about to make breakfast once these troublemakers are fed."
"Can I help?" you offered. "With the feeding?."
"If you'd like. Fair warning thoughâ" One of the quieves dive-bombed toward the food bowl and Ozzie gently redirected it with one hand. "They're not great with boundaries. Fizz spoils them."
Once the quieves were fed and had zoomed off to various parts of the palaceâapparently they had free run of the placeâOzzie led you to the kitchen.
"Fizz is already at the club," he explained as he started pulling out ingredients. "He likes to practice in the mornings when the stage is empty. Gets his routine perfect before the evening shows."
"He practices every day?" you asked, settling into one of the breakfast bench chairs.
"Every single day. Sometimes multiple times a day if he's working on something new, you've been a blessing he's actually taken time off." Ozzie cracked eggs into a pan. "He's incredibly dedicated to his craft. Always has been, even before I knew him."
There was something in his voiceâfondness mixed with pride and something deeper.
"How long have you known each other?" you asked softly.
Ozzie was quiet for a moment, focused on the eggs. "Long enough. We met when he was still performing in the circus, he'd just started his work for Mam, Before..." He gestured vaguely. "Before a lot of things. He was talented even then, but he's only gotten better with time."
"He really loves performing," you observed.
"He does. It's not just a job for himâit's who he is. Being a clown, making people laugh, the acrobatics and tricks... that's my Fizzy at his core." Ozzie plated the eggs and added toast. "Everything elseâthe business stuff, the brand deals, even working with Mammonâthat's all secondary to the performance itself."
He brought the plates over and settled into his custom chair, which still looked comically small compared to him.
"Thank you," you said, accepting your plate. "For breakfast. And for... everything, really."
"You don't have to keep thanking us," Ozzie said gently. "We want you here."
"I know, butâ" You struggled to find words. "Nobody's ever just... helped me like this. Without wanting something back."
Ozzie's expression softened. "Then you've been around the wrong people. Help shouldn't come with strings attached."
You ate in comfortable silence for a while. Without Fizz's manic energy filling every moment, the pace was slower, calmer. It was nice in a different wayâpeaceful instead of chaotic.
"Can I ask a question?" you said eventually.
"Always."
"What's it like? Being a Sin? Running a whole ring of Hell?"
Ozzie considered the question, taking a sip of his coffee. "Complicated. Powerful, yes, but also incredibly political. Every decision I make affects millions of demons. Every business deal, every policy change, every alliance or rivalryâit all ripples out."
"That sounds stressful."
"It can be. But it's also rewarding. I've built something hereânot just Ozzie's or the factory, but a whole culture. The Lust Ring celebrates pleasure and desire and connection. It's about joy and satisfaction and consensual indulgence." He paused. "Though I know to you it probably just seems like the sex demon district."
Your face heated. "I mean... kind of?"
He laughed, deep and warm. "That's fair. And you're not entirely wrong. But there's more to lust than just the physical. It's about passion, about connection, about allowing yourself to want things and pursue them. That's what I try to foster here."
"That's actually really beautiful," you said softly. "When you put it that way."
"Most people don't think about it that way. They just see the surface level." He smiled at you. "You're surprisingly easy to talk to, you know that?"
"I am?"
"You listen. Really listen. And you ask genuine questions instead of making assumptions." He finished his coffee. "It's refreshing."
You felt warmth spread through your chest that had nothing to do with the food.
"So," Ozzie said, his tone shifting to something more casual. "I was thinkingâwould you like to come to the club today? Froggie is practicing, and he loves any excuse to show off. Plus it might be good for you to see more of what we do."
"Really? I wouldn't be in the way?"
"Not at all. The club's closed during the day, so it's just staff and Fizz. Very low-key." He stood up, collecting the plates. "We'll just need to be a bit carefulâkeep your hood up, stay close. Just in case."
"In case of what?"
His expression flickered with something protective. "Just a precaution. You're human, and while my employees are trustworthy, it's better to be safe."
You nodded, not fully understanding but trusting his judgment.
"Besides," Ozzie added, his tone lightening, "I think you'll enjoy watching him work. Fizz in performance mode is something special."
The club looked completely different during the day.
Without the crowds and the mood lighting and the pulsing music, Ozzie's was almost serene. The lights were turned up to normal levels, showing off the actual architecture and design rather than just the ambiance. Employees moved around doing maintenance and cleaning, all of them nodding respectfully to Ozzie as he passed.
You kept your hood up as instructed, following close to Ozzie's side. A few employees glanced at you curiously, but none of them approached or asked questions.
"The office is through here," Ozzie explained, leading you toward a door marked "PRIVATE." "It overlooks the stage with one-way glass. You can watch from there without being seen."
The office was exactly what you'd expectâluxurious, well-appointed, with multiple screens showing different areas of the club. But the main feature was the massive window overlooking the stage.
And on that stage, Fizzarolli was practicing.
"There he is," Ozzie said fondly, settling into an oversized chair that was actually proportioned for him. "In his element."
You couldn't look away.
Fizz was running through his routine with an intensity you hadn't seen before. His mechanical limbs extended and retracted in perfect synchronization, juggling clubs flying through the air in complex patterns. He moved across the stage with fluid grace, his body bending and twisting in ways that seemed impossible.
But what struck you most was his face.
The usual manic grin was gone, replaced by fierce concentration. His eyes tracked every movement, every throw, every catch. When he missed a beatâso slight you almost didn't noticeâhe immediately stopped, went back, and repeated the sequence until it was flawless.
"He's incredible," you breathed.
"He is," Ozzie agreed, pride evident in his voice. "Watch this next partâhe's been working on it all week."
Fizz moved to center stage and pulled out what looked like torches. He lit them with a flourish, and suddenly he was juggling fire, the flames leaving trails in the air as they spun. His mechanical arms wove between the torches, creating patterns of light and shadow that were mesmerizing.
Then he threw all the torches up simultaneously, extended his limbs to catch them at impossible angles, and landed in a split while balancing one torch on his head.
You gasped, clapping without thinking.
Fizz's head snapped toward the windowâhe couldn't see through it, but he'd definitely heard. His expression shifted from concentration to pleased surprise, and suddenly his usual grin was back.
He took an elaborate bow toward the window, his bells jingling cheerfully, then launched into what was clearly a show-off routine. More tricks, more acrobatics, even pulling out props that definitely weren't part of the normal show just to demonstrate them.
"When he has an audience? Absolutely. Fizz lives for the performance. The bigger the reaction, the harder he works to impress."
You watched as Fizz did a backflip off a rigging rope, caught himself with his mechanical arms, and spun like a propeller before landing perfectly. He was smiling now, the intensity from before replaced with pure joy.
"Can he see us?" you asked.
"No, but he knows I watch his practice sessions sometimes. And he probably guessed I'd bring you." Ozzie leaned back in his chair. "He's been wanting to perform for you properly. This is probably as close as he can get without an actual audience."
Fizz moved into what looked like the finaleâa complex combination of juggling, acrobatics, and showmanship that built to a crescendo. Fire, clubs, streamers, all moving in perfect harmony while he narrated something you couldn't hear but could see in his expressions and gestures.
And then, the finishâhe threw everything into the air, did a triple backflip, and landed with his arms spread wide as everything fell perfectly into waiting containers behind him.
Even knowing you were watching from behind one-way glass, you couldn't help but applaud again.
A few minutes later, the office door burst open and Fizz bounced in, bells jingling excitedly.
"Did you see? Did you see that? I nailed the fire sequence! And the triple backflip landing was perfect!" He spotted you and his grin got even wider. "You're wearing my merch! That's so cute! And you came to watch me practice!"
"You were amazing," you said honestly. "I've never seen anything like that."
"Really?" Fizz's bells jingled as he bounced on his heels. "Not even topside? You guys don't have circus performers?"
"We do, but not like you. The things you can do with your armsâthe way you moveâit's incredible."
Something in Fizz's expression softened, the manic energy settling into something more genuine. "Thanks, cutie. That... that means a lot, actually."
"You work really hard at it," you observed. "I saw you practicing that one sequence over and over until it was perfect."
The softness flickered into something more complicatedâpride mixed with something heavier. "Yeah, well. Has to be perfect. Can't have any mistakes, can't mess up the timing, can'tâ" He cut himself off, forcing the bright grin back. "I mean, perfection is part of the brand! Fizzarolli doesn't do half-assed performances!"
But you'd seen itâthat flash of something beneath the surface. Pressure, maybe. Or anxiety. The weight of expectations.
Before you could say anything, Fizz was already moving, doing a handstand on Ozzie's desk. "Besides, practice makes perfect! And perfect makes profitable! And profitable makes Mammon happy, which makes life easier!"
Despite the playful bickering, you couldn't shake what you'd seen. The intensity in Fizz's face during practice. The way he'd pushed himself, repeated sequences until they were flawless, the underlying current of needing to be perfect.
He cared so much about his craft. Maybe too much.
But then he was doing a backflip off the desk, landing perfectly, and taking a dramatic bow complete with jingling bells. "So! What'd you think? Honest opinion! Was I amazing or was I INCREDIBLY amazing?"
"Incredibly amazing," you said, smiling despite your concerns.
"Yes! I knew it!" Fizz booped your nose with one finger. "Ozzie, she thinks I'm incredibly amazing! Write that down! Make it official!"
"I'm not writing that down."
"Why not? It's important data! For the records! Future historians need to know!"
"Future historians have better things to document than your ego."
"My ego is historically significant!"
You laughed softly, watching them. Even when Fizz was clearly deflecting, even when there were complicated feelings underneath, he still made you smile.
"Hey," Fizz said suddenly, his attention back on you. "You should come to an actual show sometime! Like, a real one with an audience! It's way different when there's a crowd. And when your not covered in garbage. The energy is insane!"
"I'd like that," you said softly.
"Yeah?" His expression lit up again, genuine and bright. "Yeah! Okay! We'll make that happen! VIP seating, obviously. Best view in the house! Well, second best. Ozzie's spot is the best, but you can sit near him!"
"I'm honored," you said, and meant it.
Fizz's bells jingled happily. "You're gonna love it! I do this new bit with audience participation that's hilarious, and there's this part where I juggle while hanging upside down from the ceiling, andâ"
"Fizz," Ozzie interrupted gently. "You have another practice session in an hour."
"Right! Yes! Practice!" Fizz bounced toward the door. "Gotta keep perfecting the routine! Can't have any slip-ups! Not even tiny ones!"
There it was againâthat edge of intensity beneath the enthusiasm.
"Fizz," Ozzie called out before he could leave. "Remember what we talked about. You don't have to be perfect every second."
"I know, I know! But perfect is better!" Fizz grinned, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "See you guys later!"
He bounced out, bells chiming, leaving you and Ozzie alone in the office.
Ozzie was quiet for a long moment, staring at the door Fizz had disappeared through.
"He pushes himself a lot." you said softly.
"He does." Ozzie's voice was heavy with concern. "Always has. After he lost his limbsâhe's been trying to prove he's still just as good ever since. Maybe better. Like he has to compensate."
"But he is good. Better, possibly, with what you made for him, he can do so much more then the average performer."
"I know that. You know that. Deep down, Fizzy knows that." Ozzie sighed. "But there's a difference between knowing something and being able to believe it. And well Froggie... he's got a lot of people depending on him being some perfect performer. Mammon especially."
The way he said Mammon's name suggested complicated feelings.
"Is Mammon bad?" you asked hesitantly.
"Mam is... Mammon. The Sin of Greed. He sees everything in terms of profit and loss, and Fizz is his most profitable asset. The pressure that puts on him..." Ozzie's expression darkened. "Let's just say I wish Fizzy didn't have to work with him at all. But the contract is ironclad."
"That sounds kinda awful."
"It is. But Fizz handles it. He's stronger than he thinks." Ozzie's expression softened. "He's been happier lately though. Since you arrived. More... himself. The real version, not just the performer."
Your face heated. "I don't think I've done anything special."
"You watch him practice and tell him he's incredible. You ask about his arms without judgment. You laugh at his jokes even when they're terrible." Ozzie smiled. "That's pretty special."
You didn't know what to say to that, so you just looked out at the empty stage where Fizz had been practicing moments before.
"Come on," Ozzie said, standing. "Let's head back to the palace. I've got some work to do, and you probably want to rest. Watching Froggie practice is exhausting even when you're not the one performing."
That night, after you'd gone to bed earlyâwatching Fizz practice really had been exhausting in a strange wayâOzzie and Fizz got ready for bed themselves.
"She came to watch me practice," Fizz said, his voice soft with wonder as he changed into sleep clothes. "Like, actually came to watch. And she said I was incredible."
"You are incredible," Ozzie said, settling onto the bed.
"Yeah, but she meant it. Like, genuinely meant it." Fizz climbed up beside him, bells jingling softly. "She noticed I was pushing myself. Saw me repeat sequences until they were perfect."
"Most people don't notice that."
"She notices everything." Fizz curled into Ozzie's side. "She's wearing my merch, Oz. My hoodie. She put it on and just... wore it like it was normal. Like wearing Fizzarolli brand clothing was something she wanted to do."
"She likes you, Froggie."
"She likes us," Fizz corrected. "I saw how she gets with you. All soft and smiley. She feels safe with us. Both of us."
Ozzie was quiet for a moment, running his fingers along Fizz's back. "I like having her here. The palace feels... different. Better."
"More complete," Fizz agreed. "Like she's supposed to be here."
"Don't get too attached, baby. We still don't know if she'll want to stay long-term."
"Too late. Already attached." Fizz's bells gave a soft chime. "And so are you. Don't even try to deny it. I saw your face when she said my performing was beautiful. You looked like you were gonna propose to both of us right there."
"I did notâ"
"You totally did. You had that sappy look. Very unlike the big bad Sin of Lust."
"I don't have a sappy look."
"You absolutely do. It's very cute. Also very telling." Fizz propped himself up to look at Ozzie directly. "We're falling for her, aren't we? Like, both of us. Actively falling."
Ozzie met his gaze, serious now. "Would that be a problem? If we were?"
"Are you kidding? I'm thrilled!" Fizz's bells jingled excitedly. "I was worried I was the only one catching feelings! But nooooo, you're just as gone as I am! This is great!"
"Fizz, we barely know herâ"
"We know enough. She's kind, she's genuine, she sees us as for who we are and not titles or brands. She watches me practice and actually cares that I'm pushing too hard. She has breakfast asks real questions about what it's like being us." Fizz's expression was earnest. "That's more than enough to know she's special."
"What if she doesn't feel the same way?"
"Then we enjoy having her here as a friend and don't push. But Oz..." Fizz's bells chimed softly. "What if she does? What if we could actually have this? Both of us with her? All three of us together?"
"That's a very big 'what if,' Froggie."
"But not impossible."
"No," Ozzie admitted quietly. "Not impossible."
Fizz snuggled back down, satisfied. "Good. Because I really like the idea of her being ours. And us being hers. All three of us figuring this out together."
"We'd have to be careful. Take it slow. Make sure she's comfortable."
"Obviously. I'm not gonna come on too strong and scare her off. I can be subtle!"
"You're about as subtle as your stage entrance."
"Hey! My stage entrance is very subtle! It's just... enthusiastically subtle!"
Ozzie laughed, the sound deep and warm. "Whatever you say, baby."
They lay together in comfortable silence, both thinking about the human down the hall in her borrowed hoodie, probably already asleep and dreaming of whatever humans dreamed of.
"She fits," Fizz said eventually, his voice soft and serious. "With us. In our lives. She just... fits."
"She does," Ozzie agreed. "She really does."
"So we're doing this? Trying to make it work? All three of us?"
"No Froggie, We'll follow her lead, if she shows interest in us, we cant just bombard her thats not fair." Ozzie pressed a kiss to Fizz's forehead. "But...If she wants it. When she's ready. However long that takes... then we'll talk about it."
"Her lead," Fizz repeated, bells jingling softly with contentment. "I can do that. We can do that."
"Together."
"Always together Oz," Fizz agreed. "That's the whole point."
Down the hall, you slept peacefully, wrapped in Fizzarolli merch and dreams, unaware that two demons were falling for you and hopingâthat maybe, just maybe, you might fall for them too.
Warnings â ïž: it's hell ? ... lecherous dudes, Canon typical violence, swearing, clowns, eventual smut, some canon typical religious overtones, alcohol consumption, lusty aesthetics, angst, feelings of despair.
Part 2 | Part 4
Hell-ish Heartbeats đđđ P.3
Following the server through the backstage corridors of Ozzie's felt like walking to your own execution.
Your legs were shaky, your heart was hammering, and every instinct you had was screaming at you to turn around and run. But run where? Back to the alley? Back to the dumpster? You were so far past the point of good decision-making that you might as well see this through.
The server led you down a hallway that got progressively more luxurious. The plain concrete walls gave way to wallpaperâdeep blues, magenta's and golds with patterns that were almost hypnotic. The fluorescent lights were replaced by actual chandeliers, crystal ones that cast prismatic light across everything.
You passed doors with nameplates. "Storage." "Sound Booth." "Green Room." And then, at the end of the hall, a door that was notably larger than the others, made of dark wood with gold accents.
The nameplate read: "PRIVATE"
The server knockedâthree quick rapsâand a voice from inside called out, "Come in!"
She opened the door and gestured for you to enter. You hesitated on the threshold.
"It's alright," she said softly, kindly. "They don't bite. Well, not unless asked." She must have seen your face because she quickly added, "That was a joke. You'll be fine."
You took a deep breath and stepped inside.
The dressing room was massiveâcalling it a "room" seemed inadequate. It was more like a luxury apartment. Plush furniture, a full bar, a vanity area with lights that could probably be seen from space, and decorations that ranged from elegant to explicitly sexual.
But you barely noticed any of that.
Because sitting on the couch was the biggest personâbeingâdemon?âyou had ever seen in your life.
He was fucking enormous. Fifteen feet tall at least, maybe more, built with broad shoulders and a powerful frame that somehow managed to be both imposing and elegant. His skin was a deep purple that seemed to shimmer in the light, and he was draped casually across the couch in a way that suggested he was very comfortable with the space he took up.
But it was his face that made your breath catch.
He had a leonine quality to it, with a mane of feathers or furâyou couldn't quite tellâthat flared out around his head. Nestled within that mane were two smaller facesâone a ram, one a bullâtheir expressions as if they were whispering secrets only he could hear. Two large, curved feathers ? antennae ? Things ? rose from his head, and his eyes...
His eyes and even his mouth were bright chartreuse with a warm, almost hypnotic quality. They were fixed on you with an intensity that made you feel like you were being x-rayed.
"Well, hello there," he said, and his voice was impossibly deep, resonating in your chest. "Come in, come in! Don't be shy!"
You couldn't move. Your feet were rooted to the floor.
Fizzarolli was there too, perched on the arm of the couch, looking tiny next to the giant blue demon. His jester hat bells jingled softly as he waved at you cheerfully. "Hey, cutie! Glad you could make it!"
"Iâ" Your voice came out as a squeak. You cleared your throat and tried again. "I don'tâwhatâ"
The giant demon's expression softened. "Oh, you're scared. That's fair. I am pretty intimidating, huh?" He didn't sound smug about it, just matter-of-fact. "Why don't you have a seat? You look like you're about to fall over."
He gestured to a chair opposite the couchâa safe distance away. You managed to make your legs work enough to stumble over and collapse into it.
"There we go. Better?" The demon leaned forward slightly, and even sitting down he was taller than you were standing. "I'm Asmodeus. But you can call me Ozzie. Everyone does."
"Oh my god," you whispered.
"Actually, we're demons, but I appreciate the sentiment!" Ozzie grinned at his own joke. "And you are...?"
You told him your name, somehow managing to get it out without stuttering too badly.
"Nice to meet you!" Fizz chimed in, bells jingling as he bounced slightly on the couch arm. "So, uh, got some questions. If that's cool with you? Nothing intense! Just, you know, curious about a few things."
"Like how you got into my club," Ozzie added, still smiling but with an edge to his voice. "We have a pretty strict couples-only policy. And according to security, you're not on any list and didn't come through the front door."
"Iâ" You swallowed hard. "I snuck in. Through a side door. I'm sorry, I didn't mean toâI justâ"
"Hey, hey, it's okay." Fizz hopped down from the couch arm and moved a bit closer, though he kept a respectful distance. "You're not in trouble. We're just curious. Why'd you sneak in?"
How did you even begin to explain?
"I... I didn't know where else to go," you said quietly. "I'm lost. Really, really lost. And everything out there is so... much. And this place seemed... I don't know. Dry? Safe? I wasn't thinking clearly."
"Lost how?" Ozzie asked, his tone gentler now. "Lost in Lust? Or lost-lost?"
"I don't even know where I am!" The words burst out of you, tinged with hysteria. "I don't know what this place is, I don't know how I got here, I don't know how to get home! I justâI fell. Twice. And now I'm here and everyone's a demon and there was a robot clown that tried to kill me andâ"
You were spiraling. You could feel it happening but couldn't stop it.
"Whoa, whoa, slow down." Fizz's voice cut through your panic. "Robot clown? What robot clown?"
"At a theme park," you managed. "Loo Loo Land. He looked likeâ" You gestured at Fizz. "Like you. But all stiff and mechanical. And he said I wasn't supposed to be here and I wasâ"
"Ugh, a Robo Fizz." Fizz's expression darkened. "One of my Fizzy's threatened you?"
"Froggie," Ozzie said warningly, then turned back to you. "Okay. Let's start from the beginning. You said you fell. Fell from where?"
You told them everything.
About the bus stop. The rain. The puddle that wasn't a puddle. Falling through impossible space into Loo Loo Land. The robot clown and his threats. Falling again. The dumpster. All of it came spilling out in a disjointed, panicked rush.
Ozzie and Fizz listened without interrupting, though they exchanged several looks that you couldn't quite read.
When you finished, there was a moment of silence.
"So," Fizz said slowly. "You're a human."
"What else would I beâ" You stopped. "Wait. Why did youâ"
"Babe," Fizz looked at Ozzie. "She's human. Like, actual living human."
"I'm aware, Fizzy." Ozzie was studying you with an intensity that made you want to shrink into the chair. "The question is how a living human fell into Hell. That's not... that doesn't happen. There are rules. Procedures."
"I don't know!" Your voice cracked. "I don't know what happened! I just want to go home!"
"Hey, hey, it's okay." Ozzie's voice shifted, becoming softer, almost soothing. It was startling, coming from someone who looked so intimidating. "We're going to figure this out. But first, you need to breathe. Can you do that for me? Deep breath in."
You tried. It came out shaky but you managed it.
"Good. And out. There you go." He kept his voice steady, calm, almost hypnotic. "You're safe right now. Nobody here is going to hurt you. Fizz and Iâ" He paused. "Well, we won't let anything happen to you. Okay?"
There was something about his voice, about the genuine concern in his expression, that made you believe him. Your breathing started to slow, the panic receding slightly.
"Okay," you whispered.
Fizz had moved closer without you noticing, now sitting cross-legged on the floor at a comfortable distance. "So you really don't know anything about Hell? Like, nothing?"
You shook your head.
"Fuck." He looked at Ozzie again. "She's completely clueless."
"Fizz."
"What? I don't mean it as an insult! I mean she literally has no idea what she's stumbled into! This isâ" He gestured expansively, bells chiming. "This is bad. Like really bad. A living human, alone, in the Lust Ring? Do you know what would happen if the wrong demons found out?"
You felt your face pale. "What... what would happen?"
Fizz opened his mouth, but Ozzie cut him off smoothly. "Nothing, because they're not going to find out. Which is why you're not staying alone."
Your head snapped up. "What?"
Ozzie and Fizz looked at each other, and something passed between themâa whole conversation in a single glance. Fizz's expression was worried but determined. Ozzie's was calculating but soft around the edges.
"She can't exactly wander around out there," Fizz said.
"No, she definitely cannot," Ozzie agreed.
"And we can't just... leave her?"
"Absolutely not."
"So..."
"So she stays with us."
They turned back to you in unison.
"Stay with you?" you repeated faintly, feeling your anxiety spike again. Stay with them? They were being nice now, but they were still demons. In a place they kept referring to as Lust. Where everything was about... about...
Your face felt hot.
"Just until we figure out what's going on," Ozzie said quickly, seeming to sense your nervousness. "We've got plenty of space. Guest rooms. Security. Everything you'd need to be safe while we work out how to... well, either get you home or at least get you sorted."
"We're not gonna let you sleep in a dumpster, cutie," Fizz added. "What kind of business partners would we be?"
"Business partners?" The words slipped out before you could stop them.
Fizz's expression flickered with somethingâembarrassment? His bells jingled as he shifted. "Yeah. Business partners. Ozzie owns the club, I perform here. Business. That's all."
Except the way Ozzie was looking at Fizz suggested "business" wasn't quite the right word. It was fond and exasperated and affectionate all at once.
"Right," Ozzie said, voice dripping with amusement. "Business partners. We've been 'business partners' for the last several years."
"We are!"
"Of course, baby." The pet name slipped out so naturally that Fizz didn't even seem to notice at first, but you did. And so did Ozzie, whose grin got wider. "Very professional business partners."
Fizz's face flushed slightly and his bells gave an indignant jingle. "Shut up."
Despite everythingâthe fear, the confusion, the complete insanity of your situationâyou felt the corner of your mouth twitch. There was something almost... cute about watching them bicker. Even if the thought of staying with them made your stomach flip nervously.
But then the reality of what they were suggesting hit you again.
"Wait," you said. "Do you mean stay as in ? Like, here? In the club?"
"Oh, hell no," Fizz said immediately. "Could you imagine? The noise alone would drive you insane. Plus there's the whole... atmosphere thing. Not exactly human-friendly, if you catch my drift." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.
You felt your face burn.
"Nah, we've got a place," Fizz continued. "Well, Ozzie's got a palace. I just... also live there. For business reasons."
"Very business-like living arrangements," Ozzie added, completely deadpan.
"It's practical!"
"Whatever you say, Froggie."
"When you say 'a palace'..." you started hesitantly.
"The palace," Ozzie said casually, like it was no big deal. "It's connected to my factory. Easier for business operations."
"The... palace."
"Yeah."
"You have a palace."
"I'm the King of Lust," Ozzie said, as if this explained everything. "It's kind of required. Don't worry, it's not as pretentious as it sounds. We've made it comfortable."
Your brain was struggling to process this. A palace. They wanted you to stay in a palace. With them. The demon prince of Lust and his "business partner." In the Lust Ring.
"I can't stay in a palace," you said, voice rising slightly. "That'sâthat's insane. I can't justâ"
"You got a better option?" Fizz asked, not unkindly. "Because from where I'm sitting, your choices are: stay with us where it's safe, or go back out into the Lust Ring where literally any demon couldâ" He paused, seemed to reconsider his words. "Let's just say the Lust Ring isn't exactly friendly to lost humans who don't know the rules. Especially not cute little things like you who probably blush at the word 'sex.'"
You did, in fact, blush at the word.
Fizz's grin widened. "Yeah, exactly my point. You wouldn't last five minutes out there without someone trying to... well." He made a vague gesture that somehow managed to be both explanatory and completely inappropriate.
"Fizz," Ozzie said warningly.
"What? I'm being honest! She needs to understand what she's dealing with here!"
"But I can't just impose on you like thatâ" you tried again.
"You're not imposing," Ozzie interrupted gently. "Look, we've got the space. We've got the security. And honestly?" He glanced at Fizz with an expression that was surprisingly soft. "We both feel better knowing you're somewhere safe rather than trying to figure this out alone."
"We've got guest rooms," Fizz added enthusiastically, his bells chiming with his excitement. "Plural! Like, six of them! Most of them don't even get used except when the quieves decide that's their new favorite sleeping spot!"
"The... what?"
"Our dogs," Ozzie explained. "Well, they're not exactly dogs, but close enough. You'll meet them. They're... enthusiastic."
You sat there, trying to process everything. Two demonsâone of them the literal King of Lustâwere offering to let you stay in a palace because you'd accidentally fallen into their dimension. And you were supposed to just... accept this? Stay with them? In the Lust Ring, where everything was about...
Your face was definitely still burning.
"I..." You didn't know what to say. "Are you sure? I mean, I don't want to be in the way, and I don't really understand what... what this place is about, andâ" You were rambling now, nervous energy making the words spill out. "âand you keep making jokes I don't really get, and I'm probably going to be really awkward andâ"
"Hey." Fizz's voice was surprisingly gentle. "You're not gonna be in the way. Yeah, we make jokes. Yeah, we're in the Lust Ring and that comes with a certain... vibe." His bells jingled as he tilted his head. "But we've got a whole separate guest wing. Private. Away from any of the stuff that's making you nervous. Promise."
"I..." You tried to find a reason to say no, but came up empty. "Are you sure?"
"Positive," Ozzie said firmly. "Besides, I'm curious. A human falling into Hell is unprecedented. I want to figure out how it happened. And youâ" He gestured at you. "âyou need somewhere safe. It's mutually beneficial."
"Plus you look like you're about to pass out," Fizz noted. "When's the last time you ate?"
You tried to remember. Breakfast? Had you even had breakfast? The bus, the fall, Loo Loo Land, another fall, the dumpster, sneaking into Ozzie's... it all blurred together.
"I don't... know."
"Right, that settles it." Fizz hopped to his feet, bells jingling merrily. "We're taking you home, feeding you, and getting you into an actual bed. Everything else can wait until tomorrow."
"Butâ"
"No buts!" Fizz was already moving toward the door. "Well, except ours, obviously. And yours, though I'm sure it's cute tooâ"
"FIZZ."
"What? I'm being complimentary!" But he was grinning, completely unrepentant.
Your face was on fire. You were pretty sure you were going to die of embarrassment before anything else could get you.
Ozzie stood up, and the sheer size of him made you shrink back instinctively. But his expression was kind as he offered you his hand.
Except his hand was enormous. Like, the palm alone was bigger than your entire torso. There was no way you could hold his hand like a normal person.
"Come on," he said softly. "Let's get you somewhere comfortable."
You stared at his hand for a long moment, then carefully, hesitantly, wrapped your fingers around his pinky instead. It was the only part small enough to hold onto.
Ozzie's expression softened even further, something almost protective flickering across his features. "Alright then. Let's go."
The "palace" was accessed through a private entrance at the back of Ozzie's. You followed Fizz and Ozzie through a door marked "PRIVATE - NO ENTRY" and into a corridor that was significantly more subdued than the rest of the club.
Well, "followed" was generous. You were still holding onto Ozzie's thumb like a lifeline, while Fizz chattered animately on your other side, Ozzie was being very careful to match his pace to yours.
"So this connects to a factory?" you asked, trying to make conversation to distract from both the surreal nature of everything and your hyperawareness of how close you were to the literal demon of Lust.
"Yep!" Fizz was practically bouncing as he walked ahead of you, his bells creating a cheerful soundtrack. "Ozzie manufactures all kinds of stuffâtoys, accessories, whatnotâand having the palace connected means he can check on operations easily. Plus it's convenient for me since I do promotional work for the brand andâ"
"Fizz," Ozzie interrupted gently. "Maybe save the company overview for when she's not dead on her feet?"
"Right, right. Sorry! I get excited about the logistics!" His bells jingled as he spun around to walk backwards, facing you. "But seriously, the factory is super cool. We make all sorts of things! Some of them are even appropriate for polite company!" He grinned wickedly. "Most aren't though. Most are very, very not appropriate."
You felt your face heat up again.
"Stop teasing her, Fizzy," Ozzie said, but he sounded amused.
"I'm not teasing! I'm being informative! She should know what we do here!"
"She knows enough to be blushing like that, which means you can dial it back."
"But she's so cute when she blushes!"
"Your a maniac."
"Okay, okay! I'll behave! Mostly!"
The corridor opened up into what looked like a private elevator. Ozzie pressed the button with his free handâthe one you weren't clinging toâand the doors slid open with a soft ding.
Inside, the elevator was all mirrors and gold accents. You caught sight of yourself and wincedâyou looked exactly as bad as you felt. Hair a mess, clothes rumpled and stained, garbage still clinging to parts of your outfit, eyes red and puffy from crying.
And there, beside you in the reflection, Ozzie absolutely towered over you. You barely came up to his knee. The size difference was comical.
"We'll get you cleaned up," Ozzie said, noticing your expression. "Don't worry."
The elevator rose smoothly, though you couldn't tell how many floors. When the doors opened, you stepped out into...
"Holy shit," you breathed.
The entrance hall was massive. Marble floors polished to a mirror shine. Vaulted ceilings with chandeliers that looked like they cost more than your entire apartment building. Art on the wallsâsome of it beautiful, some of it explicit enough to make your eyes widen and your gaze dart away quickly.
"Welcome to Casa de Asmodeus!" Fizz announced, spreading his arms wider then should be possible, bells ringing with the gesture. "Or as I call it, 'Ozzie's place where I also happen to live for totally business-related reasons.'"
"It's our home, Fizzy," Ozzie said with fond exasperation. "You can just say it's our home."
"Business home."
"You're ridiculous."
"You love it."
"Unfortunately, yes."
"Wait, did you justâ" Fizz's bells jingled as he whirled around. "Did you just admit you love me? In front of company."
"I said I love your ridiculous behavior. Different thing."
"That's basically the same thing!"
"If you say so, baby."
There it was againâanother pet name slipping out so casually. And this time Fizz definitely noticed, his face flushing.
"Shut up," he muttered, but he was smiling.
You watched them still feeling nervous and out of place but also... they were kind of adorable together, actually. In a weird, demonic way. Even if every other word out of Fizz's mouth seemed designed to make you blush.
"Come on," Fizz said, suddenly grabbing your free handâthe one not holding Ozzie's thumbâand tugging you forward. His grip was warm and his bells chimed with his enthusiasm. "Let me show you around! So this is the entrance hall, obviously. Through there is the main living areaâhuge fucking couch, TV that's definitely too big, Ozzie refuses to admit it's too big but it isâ"
"It's appropriately sized," Ozzie interjected.
"It's the size of a billboard, babe."
Another pet name. They were just flowing out now.
"ANYWAY," Fizz continued, pulling you along. "The kitchen's through there, the dining room we never use is over there, there's a pool on the terraceâheated, obviously, perfect temperature for late night skinny dippingâ"
"Fizz."
"What? I'm describing the amenities!"
You were definitely blushing again.
"âgym downstairs, entertainment room with a sound system that'll blow your mind, though usually we use other things when we wanna blowâ"
"FIZZY."
"I was gonna say 'blow your expectations'! Get your mind out of the gutter, Oz!" But his grin was absolutely wicked, and he snickered with barely suppressed laughter.
Ozzie sighed deeply. "I apologize in advance for him. He's like this all the time."
"Hey, she should know what she's getting into!"
"She's getting into a guest room, Froggy A nice, safe, appropriate guest room."
"Well yeah, but the palace itself is stillâyou know." Fizz made another one of his vague but somehow completely explanatory gestures.
You were starting to understand why this was called the Lust Ring.
"Right! Guest room!" Fizz said suddenly, as if just remembering. "Let me show you! It's gonna blow yourâ" He caught Ozzie's look. "âexpectations. It's gonna blow your expectations."
"Nice save," Ozzie muttered.
"What can I say I'm a professional!"
Fizz dragged you up a grand staircaseâyou'd had to let go of Ozzie's thumb for this part, much to your nervousnessâwith Ozzie following behind at a more measured pace. The bells on Fizz's hat created a musical accompaniment to the climb.
"So we've got like six guest rooms," Fizz was explaining, holding your hand as he pulled you down a hallway. "But I'm thinking the blue one for you. It's got the best view and it's the furthest from our room which means you won't have to hear anyâ"
He glanced at Ozzie, his face flushing.
"âconversations! I was gonna say loud conversations!"
"You absolutely were not."
"Prove it!"
Despite how out of place you felt, despite everything, you felt a small laugh bubble up. It was barely more than a huff of air, but it was genuine.
Both of them stopped immediately and looked at you.
"Oh!" Fizz's entire face lit up, bells jingling with delight. "Was that a laugh? That was a laugh! Ozzie, I made her laugh!"
"Yes, you're very funny," Ozzie said dryly, but he was smiling too. "Now can we please show her the room before she passes out from exhaustion?"
"Right, right!" Fizz opened a door with a flourish. "Ta-da! Your temporary home away from... wherever you're from!"
It was hugeâbigger than your entire apartment back home. The walls were painted a soft blue that was actually soothing after all the neon of the Lust Ring. A massive bed dominated one side of the room, piled with pillows and covered in blankets that looked impossibly soft. There were windows with actual curtains, a sitting area with plush chairs, and a door that led to what Fizz proudly announced was "THE bathroom."
The bathroom was the size of your bedroom back home. Marble everywhere, a shower that could fit like four people, a tub that was practically a small pool, and more towels than any one person could possibly need.
"So this is you!" Fizz announced, bouncing on his heels, bells chiming. "Everything you need should be in here. Towels, toiletries, there's robes in the closet, and if you need clothes I can grab some ofâactually, you're probably not gonna fit in my stuff. Or Ozzie's. His stuff would be like wearing a tent on you. We'll figure out the clothes thing tomorrow."
"Multiple tents," Ozzie added. "Possibly a circus tent."
"For now, there's pajamas and stuff in the dresser that should work," Fizz continued. "We keep the guest rooms stocked. Though some of the rooms have more... specialized items? But not this one! This one's totally normal! Completely innocent! Well, as innocent as anything gets around hereâ"
"Fizz, you're rambling," Ozzie said gently.
"Right! Sorry!" His bells jingled as he shook his head. "Point is, you've got everything you need. And we're just down the hall if you need anything. Though maybe knock first. Definitely knock first. Especially if it's after like 10 PM because that's when we usuallyâ"
"FIZZ."
"âwatch TV! We watch TV!"
You couldn't help it. Despite your nervousness, despite how your face was burning, despite everything, you laughed again. A real laugh this time, shaky but genuine.
Fizz's expression softened into something warm and genuine. "There we go. That's better. We're gonna take care of you, cutie. Promise."
"Now," Ozzie said, his deep voice gentle. "About food. What would you like? And please don't say 'nothing' because you need to eat."
"I... I don't know what you haveâ"
"EVERYTHING!" Fizz interrupted enthusiastically. "Seriously, name a food. Any food. Ozzie's got it or can have it delivered in like ten minutes. He stress-shops for groceries."
"I do not stress-shopâ"
"You bought seventeen different types of cheese last week."
"That's called being prepared."
"For what, a cheese emergency?"
"You never know when you'll need cheese, Froggie."
"See?" Fizz looked at you, grinning. "Stress-shopping. But it works in your favor! So what do you want? Sandwich? Pizza? Pasta? Soup? We've got one of those instant ramen thingsâthe fancy kind, not the broke college student kind. Though we also have those if you want authenticity. Or we could make you a full meal! Big Oz is actually a pretty good cook, which is sexy as fuckâ"
Your face was on fire again.
"âbecause cooking is a universally attractive skill!" Fizz finished smoothly. "That's what I meant!"
"Sure you did," Ozzie said, but he was smiling. "How about I make you a selection? That way you can choose what appeals to you."
"A sandwich would be fine," you said softly, feeling overwhelmed but in a different way now. "Any kind is fine."
"Sandwish it is," Ozzie decided. "Fizz, why don't you let her get cleaned up? I'll bring food up in about twenty minutes."
"On it!" Fizz's jingled as he headed for the door. "Get yourself all cleaned up. There's like eight different types of fancy soap in there. Some of them smell amazing. Some of them smell like they're supposed to be for after youâ" He caught Ozzie's look. "âafter you exercise! For muscle relaxation! That's definitely what they're for!"
He gave you a little wave and bounced out of the room.
Ozzie paused at the door, having to duck significantly to fit through it. "If you need anything, anything at all, just call out. We'll hear you."
"Thank you," you said quietly. "Really. Both of you. For... for helping me."
His expression softened into something almost protective. "Get some rest, little one. We'll figure this out tomorrow."
And then he was gone, closing the door gently behind him.
You stood there in the middle of the luxurious guest room in a palace in Hell, owned by a demon prince and his "business partner," and felt the weight of the day finally crash down on you.
But for the first time since falling through that puddle, you felt something other than terror.
TW: it's hell ? ... lecherous dudes, Canon typical violence, swearing, clowns, eventual smut, some canon typical religious overtones, alcohol consumption, lusty aesthetics, angst, feelings of despair.
Part 1 | Part 3
Hell-ish Heartbeats đđđ P.2
You weren't sure how long you sat there against the wall, crying until there were no tears left. Your eyes felt swollen and raw, your throat ached, and your body had progressed past "sore" into "every single muscle is staging a protest."
But eventually, the tears stopped. Not because you felt betterâyou definitely didn't feel betterâbut because your body simply ran out of the resources to keep producing them.
You wiped at your face with your sleeve, which was a mistake because your sleeve was covered in garbage juice and now your face smelled like rotten fruit and something that might have been old meat.
"Okay," you said to yourself, voice hoarse and shaky. "Okay. Get it together. You can't just... sit here forever."
Even if sitting here forever sounded really appealing right now.
You took a deep, shuddering breath and tried to think logically. You were stuck in some kind of nightmare. You had no idea how to get home. You were covered in trash. And you were very, very alone.
But you were alive. That had to count for something, right?
Your hands were shaking as you started going through your pockets, taking inventory of what you had. Maybe there was something useful. Maybe there wasâ
Your phone.
You pulled it out with trembling fingers, hope flaring in your chest.
The screen was cracked. Completely spider-webbed from one corner to the other. And when you pressed the power button, nothing happened. Dead. Or just broken. Either way, it was useless.
"Fuck," you whispered, shoving it back in your pocket anyway. What else were you going to do, throw it away?
Your keys were still there, jingling softly. Keys to an apartment in a dimension you couldn't reach. Keys to a life that felt impossibly far away.
You kept searching.
Your wallet was there, made of cheap leather that was now slightly damp. You pulled it out and opened it with numb fingers.
Twenty-five dollars. One twenty, and five ones. Your debit card, which would be absolutely useless here. Your driver's license with your photo looking back at youâyou looked so normal in that picture, so blissfully unaware.
A punch card for the coffee shop near your work. Nine punches. One more and you'd have gotten a free latte.
The absurdity of it almost made you laugh. Or cry again. You weren't sure which.
Your other pocket yielded a pack of gumâspearmint, half-empty. Five pieces left.
So. You had twenty-five dollars that probably wouldn't work as currency here, some gum, a broken phone, useless keys, and the clothes on your back that were currently plastered with garbage.
"Great," you muttered. "Just great. I'm sure this will be super helpful."
You shoved everything back in your pockets and forced yourself to stand up. Your legs protested, shaky and weak, but they held.
You couldn't just stay in this alley. You had to... do something. Find someone who could help. Find a way home. Find anything that made sense.
Or at least find somewhere that wasn't next to a dumpster.
Stepping out of the alley felt like stepping onto an alien planet.
The street was wide and paved with something that looked like black glass, reflecting the neon lights in shifting patterns. Buildings rose up on either side, all curves and suggestive architecture, every surface covered in glowing advertisements that pulsed in time with the music.
And the music was everywhere. Bass so deep you felt it in your chest, mixing with synth and vocals that ranged from sultry to explicit. It created a soundscape that was overwhelming and disorienting and made it hard to think.
The sidewalks were packed with demons.
All kinds. All shapes. All sizes.
A couple walked past you, locked in an embrace that should have gotten them arrested for public indecency. The womanâat least, you thought it was a womanâhad purple skin and four arms, all of which were occupied. Her partner was saying something in her ear that made her laugh, low and throaty.
You quickly looked away, face burning.
Another demon sauntered past, seven feet tall and built like a swimmer, with luminescent markings that pulsed along his skin in patterns that drew the eye downward. He winked at someone across the street and blew a kiss.
A group stumbled out of one of the establishments, laughing and groping and very clearly advertising what they were about to go do. One of them spotted you and called out something, you didnt quite catch it, but the tone and the hand gesture made the meaning pretty clear.
"Oh my god," you muttered, wrapping your arms around yourself and walking faster.
Every building you passed was some variation on the same theme. Nightclubs with names like "The Velvet Rope" and "Euphoria." Boutiques advertising costumes and toys and things you didn't want to think about too hard. Hotels with hourly rates displayed in neon. Restaurants with names that were barely disguised innuendos.
A demon couple was pressed up against a wall just ahead of you, and you had to step into the street to get around them. They didn't even notice you. Or care.
"Excuse me," you mumbled uselessly.
The further you walked, the more overwhelming it became. The sounds, the sights, the smellsâeverything was designed to assault the senses in the most literal way possible. Your face felt like it was permanently on fire from blushing.
A sign ahead advertised "Couple's Massages" with a picture that made very clear what kind of massages they were. Next to it, "The Honey Pot" promised "The Sweetest Sin You'll Ever Taste." Across the street, "Seventh Heaven" had a line out the door of demons in various states of dress and undress.
You kept your eyes fixed firmly on the ground and kept walking.
You had no plan. No destination. You were just moving because standing still felt dangerous. Maybe you'd find... what? A police station? A church? That seemed unlikely. A hotel or a shelter where you could clean up and think?
With twenty-five dollars that probably didn't even work here?
You were so screwed.
You'd been walking for maybe twenty minutesâthough time felt weird here, stretched and compressed in ways that didn't make senseâwhen you turned a corner and nearly walked into a massive crowd.
The street had opened again, clearly a main road, and at its center stood a building that made every other establishment look understated by comparison.
It was huge. Three stories at least, all curved walls and dramatic architecture. The entire facade was covered in lightsâthat pulsed and swirled in hypnotic patterns. And at the top, in letters that must have been fifteen feet high "OZZIE'S"
Fuck, FUCK ... You'd gone in a circle, a perfect little loop.
The entrance to this 'OZZIE'S' was grandâmassive double doors thrown open to reveal a glimpse of the interior. Red carpet. Gold railings. Blues and Magenta's across walls. More lights. A line of demons stretched from the doors halfway around the building, all dressed in their finest, which ranged from elegant evening wear to outfits that barely qualified as clothing.
Two massive bouncers flanked the entrance, checking people as they entered. They were both easily eight feet tall, built like brick walls, with horns that could probably gore someone.
As you watched, a demon couple approachedâthey were holding hands and gazing at each other with obvious adoration. The bouncers waved them through without a second glance.
A single demon tried to enter behind them. The bouncer's hand came down on his shoulder like a vice.
"Couples only," the bouncer rumbled. "You know the rules."
"But I have a reservation!" the demon protested.
"Couples. Only." The bouncer physically turned him around and gave him a gentle shove back toward the street. "Come back when you've got a date."
Oh.
That was a problem.
Because for some reasonâsome absolutely insane, probably stupid reasonâyou found yourself drawn to that building. Maybe it was because it was the biggest, most prominent establishment you'd seen. Maybe it was because the name "Ozzie's" had a ring of legitimacy to it, like it might be safer than some back-alley club.
Or maybe you were just desperate for anything that felt like shelter.
The crowd around the entrance was thick, demons milling about, some waiting in line, others just hanging around. You edged closer, trying to stay inconspicuous, which was hard when you were the only person there covered in garbage and not draped all over a partner.
You studied the entrance, looking for... what? A way to sneak in? That was insane. You've actually gone insane. You couldn't just sneak into what was clearly an exclusive club.
Could you?
The bouncers were focused on the main entrance, checking couples as they came up. But there were other doors along the side of the building. Service entrances, maybe? You edged around the crowd, pulling the hood of your jacket up, trying to look purposeful, like you belonged here.
One of the side doors was propped open slightly. Through the gap, you could see what looked like a service corridorâplain walls, no fancy decorations. And no one guarding it.
Your heart hammered in your chest.
This was stupid. This was so, so stupid.
But where else were you going to go?
You glanced around. No one was paying attention to youâthey were all focused on their partners or on getting inside or on the various public displays happening around you.
You slipped through the door.
The service corridor was blessedly quiet compared to the chaos outside. The music was muffled here, just a distant thump of bass. The walls were plain concrete, lit by buzzing fluorescent lights that flickered occasionally.
You stood there for a moment, back pressed against the door, heart racing.
You'd just snuck into a demon nightclub.
"What the fuck am I doing?" you whispered.
But you couldn't go back out there. Not yet. In here, at least you were out of sight. You could catch your breath. Figure out your next move.
You started walking, following the corridor as it wound through what was clearly the behind-the-scenes area of the club. You passed doors labeled "Storage" and "Staff Only" and "Electrical." Voices drifted from some of themâdemons chatting, laughing, working.
You walked quickly, quietly, trying to look like you belonged here even though you absolutely did not.
The corridor eventually opened up into a wider hallway, and suddenly you could hear the music much more clearly. And voices. Lots of voices. The sounds of a crowd.
You found yourself at the edge of a curtain. Through a gap, you could see the main floor of the club.
It was spectacular.
The interior was even more lavish than the exterior suggested. The ceiling soared overhead, covered in lights that shifted through colors. Chandeliers dripped with crystals. The walls were draped in rich fabricsâdeep bluess and purples and golds. Curved booths lined the edges of the space, each one private and intimate.
And at the center, a stage. Currently empty, but clearly the focal point of the room.
The floor was packed with couples. Drinking, touching, kissing. The energy was electric, charged with an atmosphere that made your skin prickle.
This was a mistake. You needed to leave. You needed toâ
"Can I help you?"
You nearly jumped out of your skin.
A server stood behind you, carrying a tray of drinks. She was tall and curvy, with skin a deep crimson and horns that curved back from her forehead. Her outfit was... minimal. And she was looking at you with a mixture of confusion and suspicion.
"IâI was justâ" you stammered.
"Are you lost, honey?" Her expression softened slightly. "You look lost. And no offense, but you smell like a dumpster."
Your face burned. "I... yes. Both. I'm both lost and I fell in a dumpster."
She raised an eyebrow. "Rough night?"
"You have no idea."
She studied you for a moment, then sighed. "Look, you can't be back here. This is staff only. And even if you got onto the main floor, the bouncers would kick you out in a heartbeat. Couples only rule."
"I know, I justâ" What? What was your excuse? "I just needed somewhere to... I don't know. I'm sorry. I'll leave."
"Wait." She shifted the tray to one hand. "Are you okay? Like, actually okay? You doâand I'm not trying to be rudeâbut you look pretty rough."
The genuine concern in her voice almost made you start crying again.
"I'm... it's complicated."
"Isn't it always?" She glanced around, then made a decision. "Okay, look. I'm not supposed to do this, but you look like you're about to fall over. There's a booth in the back cornerâway in the back, where no one sits because the view's crap. You can hide out there for a bit, catch your breath. But keep your head down, and if anyone asks, you're waiting for your date, got it?"
You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak.
"Come on."
She led you through the curtain and along the edge of the room, staying out of the main flow of traffic. The booth she indicated was exactly as advertisedâtucked into the far back corner, partially hidden by a decorative pillar. The view of the stage was partially obscured, but you could still see most of it.
"Thank you," you managed. "Really. Thank you so much."
"Don't mention it. Seriously, don't. I could get fired." But she smiled. "Try to blend in, okay?"
She disappeared back into the crowd, and you slid into the booth, making yourself as small as possible.
The seat was upholstered in velvet, soft and luxurious. The table was polished wood with a candle centerpiece that cast dancing shadows. It was the nicest place you'd sat in hours.
You were in Ozzie's. Somehow. Against all odds and probability.
Now what?
You'd been sitting there for maybe ten minutes, trying to become one with the upholstery, when the lights suddenly dimmed.
The crowd noise changed, shifting from conversation to excited murmuring. Couples moved toward there seats, drinks in hand, settling into better viewing positions.
Something was about to happen.
Spotlights burst to life, crisscrossing the stage in patterns of blue and pink. Music swelledâsomething jazzy and energetic with a burlesque edge. Smoke billowed from hidden machines, and through it, a figure emerged.
Your blood ran cold.
It was the robot clown from Loo Loo Land.
Same height. Same build. Same mechanical movements. Green and pink stripes spiraling across his form. Jester's hat with bells that jingled.
No.
No, no, no.
You pressed yourself back into the booth, heart hammering. How had it found you? How did it get here? Was it going toâ
"HELLOOOO LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!" the figure called out, voice bright and energetic.
Wait.
The voice was wrong. It was similarâsame pitch, same cadenceâbut it was... organic. Real. Not synthetic.
"Are you ready to get your FREAK on tonight?!"
The crowd roared its approval.
You peered out from your hiding spot, studying the figure more carefully.
He wasn't a robot. He was flesh and bloodâor whatever demons had. The movements were similar to that robot clown's, but they were smoother, more natural. His face, while it bore a similar jester-like appearance, was expressive in ways the robot's never could be.
His eyes weren't mechanical. They were real, bright and mischievous, scanning the crowd with genuine personality behind them.
This wasn't a robot.
This was... someone else. Someone he'd been based on?
"I'm your host for tonight, the one, the only, FIZZAROLLI!" He swept into an elaborate bow, limbs bending in ways that suggested he was either incredibly flexible or had some kind of... extendable ability? "And boy oh boy, do we have a show for you tonight!"
He bounced across the stageâliterally bounced, his legs acting like springs. The crowd ate it up.
"But first, I need to make sure you're all warmed up! Can't have you pulling something important!" He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, and the crowd laughed. "So I'm gonna need a volunteer! Someone to help me with a little... audience participation!"
Oh no.
"Now I know what you're thinking," Fizzarolli continued, prowling the stage. "Fizz, I'm here with my smoking hot date, I don't wanna leave them!" He clutched his chest dramatically. "And I get it, I do! But this'll only take a minute, and think of how impressed they'll be when you tell them you were on stage with THE Fizzarolli!"
His eyes scanned the crowd, looking for a victim.
You sank lower in your seat.
Don't look here. Don't look here. Don'tâ
His eyes locked onto your booth.
For a moment, you thought maybe he was looking at someone else. Maybe he was looking past you. Maybeâ
A grin spread across his face, wide and delighted.
"Oh! OH! I see someone trying to hide back there! Don't think I can't see you!"
Fuck.
"Come on, don't be shy!"
The spotlight swung toward your booth, and suddenly you were illuminated like a moth pinned to a board. The entire club turned to look at you.
You shook your head frantically.
"Aw, come on! The crowd wants to see you! Don't you, folks?"
The crowd cheered encouragingly.
"I'll make it quick, I promise! Well... I mean, I'll try. Sometimes I get carried away!" He laughed. "But seriously, come on up here!"
You remained frozen.
Fizzarolli's expression shifted slightlyâsomething calculating crossed his features. Then he was moving, bouncing off the stage and through the crowd with surprising speed.
Before you could even think to run, he was at your booth.
Up close, he was even more striking. The stripes weren't just green and pinkâthey had gradients, shifting between shades. His eyes were intenseâyellow sclera, pink irises. And his smile, while big, wasn't threatening like the robot's. It was performative. Charming, even.
"There you are!" He reached out a handâhis arms extended, stretching like taffy, and you yelped in surprise. "Don't worry, I don't bite! Much. That's a joke! Come on, let's give them a show!"
His hand closed around your wristâand before you could protest, he was pulling you out of the booth and toward the stage.
"Wait, I can'tâI don'tâ" you stammered, but the crowd was already applauding.
"Too late! You're already committed!" He hauled you up onto the stage with him. "Look at this little cutie, folks! Let's give her a round of applause!"
The spotlight was blinding. The crowd was a sea of faces. Your heart was trying to escape through your throat.
As you stumbled onto the stage, you realized with a start that you were almost exactly at eye level with him. He was shorter than you'd expectedâjust under your height, actually.
"Now," Fizzarolli said, still holding your wrist. "What's your name, sugar?"
You opened your mouth. Closed it. Your mind was completely blank.
"I-i don't knowâ"
"I dont know! Sounds exoticâI like it!" He winked at the crowd.
What followed was possibly the most surreal hour of your lifeâand considering where your day had gone, that was saying something.
Fizzarolli was a professional. That much was immediately clear. Even though you were clearly terrified and had no idea what you were doing, he worked around it, incorporating your nervousness into the act like it was planned.
"Okay, Cutie, I'm gonna need you to stand riiiight here." He positioned you center stage. "Perfect! Now, don't move. Seriously, don't even twitch."
"Why?" you managed to squeak out.
"Oh, you'll see!" That probably should have worried you more.
He bounced away, pulling juggling clubs from seemingly nowhere. "Now, folks, some of you might know I also work in the circus! True story! And one of my specialties isâ"
He threw the first club. It spun through the air, passing so close to your head you felt the breeze, and he caught it with his other hand without even looking.
"âjuggling around people who really, really hope I don't fuck up!"
The crowd laughed. You made a sound that might have been a whimper.
"Don't worry!" Another club, passing on your other side. "I've only hit someone, like, twice! This month!"
"Oh my god," you whispered.
"And they barely needed stitches!"
More clubs joined the pattern. Four, five, six. They spun through the air around you in a dizzying display, coming close enough that you could feel each of them whooshing past but never quite touching you.
You stood perfectly still, barely breathing, convinced you were about to be concussed by a juggling club.
But Fizzarolli never missed. His hands moved in a blur, snatching clubs out of the air and sending them back up in an endless cascade. And while he juggled, he kept up a running commentary that had the crowd in stitches.
"You know what I love about juggling? The existential dread on people's faces! Look at this cutie here! Absolutely certain she's about to die! It's beautiful!"
You couldn't even be offended. He was right.
"But see, here's the thingâ" He caught all the clubs in rapid succession, one after another, until he held them all in his extended arms. "âwhen you've been doing this as long as I have, it's like breathing! I could do this in my sleep! While drunk! While high! Whileâwell, you get the idea!"
He tossed all the clubs behind him without looking, and they landed perfectly in a waiting bucket you hadn't even seen.
"Let's hear it for our gorgeous volunteer folks! She didn't faint OR piss herself! That's a new record!"
The crowd applauded. You were shaking.
Fizzarolli bounded over to you, threw an arm around your shoulders. "You did great! Seriously, you were perfect! I mean, you looked like you were about to have a heart attack, but that's what made it funny!"
"Can I... can I sit down now?" you managed.
"Of course! But firstâ" He spun you to face the crowd, his arm still around you. "One more round of applause for our brave volunteer!"
The crowd cheered. You caught glimpses of smiling faces, demons raising glasses in salute.
"You can head back to your seat now! Or the bar! First drink's on the house for being such a good sport!"
He released you, and you stumbled off the stage on shaky legs. A server appeared out of nowhere and pressed a glass of water into your hands. You took it gratefully and made your way back to your booth as Fizzarolli launched into the next part of his act.
You collapsed into the seat and downed half the water in one go.
What the fuck just happened?
Above the crowd, in a private booth that was more luxurious than most people's apartments, Asmodeus lounged on a velvet couch and watched his boyfriend perform.
He was magnificent, as always. Fizz had the crowd eating out of his handâworking them into a frenzy before the main show even started. It was a gift, really, the way he could read a room and adjust his performance on the fly.
Ozzie took a sip of his drinkâsomething expensive and burningâand smiled.
The door burst open with Fizzarolli's trademark energy.
"Did you SEE that? Did you SEE? I fucking nailed it!" Fizz bounced into the room, practically vibrating with post-performance energy. "That one guy in the third row almost fell out of his chair! And the couple by the bar were so into it theyâwell, let's just say security's gonna have to hose down that section!"
"I saw, babe." Ozzie's voice was deep and warm, amused. "You were perfect, as always."
"Damn right I was!" Fizz flopped onto the couch next to him, sprawling across Ozzie's lap like a cat. "Though I gotta say, that volunteer I pulled up? Cutest fucking thing I've seen all week."
Ozzie raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"
"She was so scared!" Fizz laughed, but it wasn't mean. "Like a little puppy that doesn't know if they're gonna get pet or kicked. Just standing there shaking, trying so hard not to bolt. It was adorable."
"Since when do you go for adorable?" Ozzie teased, running a finger down one of Fizz's arms affectionately. "Usually you like them confident. Bratty, even."
"Hey, I appreciate all types!" Fizz protested. "But seriously, Ozzie, you should've seen her up close. So, cute and like, basically my height, which you know doesn't happen often with non-imps. And soft-looking. Not like... demon soft. Different."
"Different how?"
Fizz sat up slightly, his expression thoughtful. "I don't know. She just... didn't feel like they belonged here. And not in the 'wrong club' way. More like... fundamentally wrong place." He shook his head. "I'm probably overthinking it. But she was cute! In that 'lost puppy' kind of way. Reminded me of the quieves, actually. All big eyes and nervous energy."
Ozzie's expression shifted, a grin spreading across his features. "The quieves? Really?"
"What?"
"Froggy, honey, babe, light of my extremely long lifeâ" Ozzie's grin got wider. "You're blushing."
"I am notâ" Fizz touched his face. His cheeks were definitely warmer than usual. "Oh. Huh."
"You thought she was cute."
"I mean, yeah, objectivelyâ"
"You're blushing about someone being cute." Ozzie's tone was playfully incredulous. "You. The demon who literally performs in a lust club every night. Who's seen every body type, every species, every possible combination thereof. And you're blushing about a scared little thing in the back booth."
"Okay, first of all, fuck you." Fizz pointed at him without any real heat. "Second, it's not like that. I just thought she was... you know. Sweet? In a weird way?"
"Uh-huh."
"Also, can we talk about the fact that she's alone? In Ozzie's? How did she even get past the bouncers?"
"Good question." Ozzie pulled out his phone and typed something quickly. "I'm asking security now."
They sat in comfortable silence for a moment while they waited for a response. Fizz had curled back into Ozzie's side, his jester hat bells jingling softly as he shifted, and the larger demon absently stroked his back.
"You know," Ozzie said slowly, "I don't think I've ever seen you this interested in someone of the, ah, fairer sex? Usually you're all about the pretty boys."
"I can contain multitudes," Fizz said dramatically. "I'm a complex imp with varied tastes."
"You told me last week that women were 'nice to look at but not really your thing.'"
"Well maybe this one's different! I don't know! She was justâ" He made a frustrated noise. "She looked so lost, Ozzie. And scared. Like she'd stumbled into the wrong dimension and didn't know how to get home."
Ozzie's phone buzzed.
"Hm. Security says there's no record of them coming through the front. No reservation, no name on the list."
"So she snuck in."
"Apparently."
Fizz sat up fully now, looking at Ozzie with an expression that the King of Lust knew all too well. It was the same expression Fizz got when they'd first found the quievesâa stray pack of the hell equivalent of puppies that had somehow ended up in Lust. The same expression that had resulted in them now having a pack of the yapping creatures living in their home.
It was the 'can we keep it?' expression.
"Fizzy," Ozzie said warningly.
"I'm just saying, maybe we should check on her? Just to make sure she's okay? She's probably still out there, all alone in that booth, confused and scared and aloneâdid I mention alone?"
"You want to invite a random demon who snuck into our club backstage."
"When you say it like that it sounds weird."
"It IS weird."
"But also kind of nice?"
Ozzie sighed, but he was smiling. This was why he loved Fizzâhis boyfriend had the biggest heart of any demon he'd ever met, hidden under all the crass jokes and performer's bravado.
"Fine. But if they turn out to be some kind of stalker, you're dealing with it."
"Deal!" Fizz bounced up, excited. "I'll send someone to invite her back! Oh, this is gonna be interesting!"
"That's one word for it," Ozzie muttered, but he was already curious himself.
Something about this situation felt... unusual. And in a realm of sin and excess, unusual was always worth investigating.
Five minutes later, you looked up from where you'd been staring at your water glass, trying to process the last hour of your life, to find a serverâdifferent from the one who'd helped you earlierâstanding there with a professional smile.
"Excuse me," she said politely. "Mr. Fizzarolli and Mr. Asmodeus request your presence backstage."
You blinked. "I'm sorry, who?"
"The owners they'd like to speak with you. If you're willing."
Your brain struggled to process this. "Owners? Like... the owners of the club?"
"The very same," the server confirmed. "Will you come?"
You should say no. This was definitely a trap or a trick or something bad. You should absolutely, definitely say no.
"Um," you said instead. "Okay?"
What in the hell were you doing?
The server smiled. "Excellent. Follow me, please."
And because your decision-making skills had apparently completely abandoned you somewhere around the second fall, you followed her.
TW: it's hell ? ... lecherous dudes, Canon typical violence, some canon typical religious overtones, alcohol consumption, eventual smut, fluff, tooth rotting fluff, fish learning to swim!
Part 1 | Part 3
Seven Rings & A Circus Tent đȘ P.2
The reception was in full swing, the hotel's dining hall transformed into an elegant ballroom. Food, drinks, and laughter filled the air.
You were sitting at the head table next to Lucifer, who hadn't let go of your hand since the ceremony ended. Every few minutes, he'd look at your wedding ringâa delicate band of gold he'd made to match your engagement ringâand get a slightly dazed expression.
"You okay?" you asked softly.
"I'm married," he said, like he still couldn't believe it. "We're married. This is real. Not a dream. Actually realâ"
"Very real," you confirmed, squeezing his hand.
He lifted your hand to his lips and kissed it gently, and you felt your cheeks warm.
"Okay lovebirds!" Angel announced, materializing with a microphone. "Time for the first dance! Get your asses on the dance floor!"
"Oh, no, we don't have toâ" you started.
"We're dancing!" Lucifer declared, standing up and pulling you with him. "Of course we're dancing! It's a wedding! Dancing is mandatory! Traditional! Essential to the matrimonial experienceâ"
"Lu, I thought maybe we could skipâ"
âOh no, no, no,â he said brightly, already leading you to the center of the dance floor, where a spotlight had appeared, definitely his doing. âYou do not get to fight your way out of Heaven, marry the King of Hell, and then hide.â
Music startedâsomething slow and romanticâand Lucifer pulled you close, one hand on your waist, the other holding yours.
"I've been looking forward to this," he murmured.
"You know everyone's watching, right?"
"Good! Let them watch! I want everyone to see how lucky I am!" He spun you gently. "I want the entire realm to know that you're mine and I'm yours andâ"
The music suddenly swelled dramatically.
The lights shifted to multiple colors.
You realized what was happening a half-second before it happened.
"Lu, are you making this into a PERFORMANCE?!"
"Maybe!" He grinned, and suddenly his wings emerged, glowing with golden light. He lifted you effortlessly, spinning you through the air as the music crescendoed.
"LUCIFER!" you shrieked, laughing despite yourself.
"Trust me!" he called back, and you did, even as he dipped you dramatically, your hair nearly touching the floor, before pulling you back up into his arms.
The other guests had cleared the dance floor, watching with various expressions of amusement and awe as the King of Hell literally swept his bride off her feet.
"Alright fine, but you are ridiculous!" you told him, poking his chest with your finger a mischievous glint in your eye.
A few demons cheered. Angel Dust wolf-whistled. Husk groaned into his drink. Penny looked like he was going to pass out on your behalf.
Lucifer leaned down, grinning like you'd just insighted chaos incarnate.
âYouâre actinâ out like you want teacherâs attention.â he sung his voice full of theatrics and mischief.
Something in you, some sparkâflickered, two could play this game.
You lifted your hand between you both, wiggling your ring. âWell,â you said, voice still quite but suddenly sharp around the edges, âthereâs two principals in this eternal detention. I hope you had your fun, but, Luââ you tilted your head with mock sweetness.
âItâs time to ring the bell.â
Lucifer froze. Then his eyes lit up.
He threw his arm out dramatically, pantomiming an enormous bell and laughing.
âHa haâding-ding!â
Laughter rippled through the room. Charlie clapped her hands delightedly. Even Alastorâs smile widened just a touch more than usual.
âLuci, youâre gettinâ too big for your boots, huh?â You shook your head, with a laugh.
He placed a hand on his chest in mock offense, lowering his voice dramatically.
âIâm here to drop your punishment,â he growled, his horns flashing briefly. âItâs gonna be mean.â
You raised a single eyebrow.
He immediately panicked. ââNot actually mean! I mean, metaphorically mean. Like, spicy-mean. Or mildly inconvenient-mean. I would neverââ
ââyou know Iâm physically incapable of being mean to you, right? Itâs a curse. An affliction.â He leaned in, whispering rapidly
You laughedâactually laughedâand before you could stop him, Lucifer spun you toward the crowd, one arm wrapped proudly around your waist.
âJust in case yâall had forgotten,â he announced loudly âthereâs a brand new motherfuckinâ Queen of Hell!â
The room erupted.
Angel Dust shouted, âHELL YEAH!â Niffty was crying. Vaggie nodded with firm approval.
Lucifer continued, clearly feeding off the energy, wiggling his shoulders and fingers like a showman.
ââCause Iâm the serpent, Iâm the flame!â
You jerked my thumb toward him, giving him a look that screamed are you kidding me right now?
âThe mortal world is scared to say this guyâs name?â
Lucifer wiggled his fingers ominously. âI'm so SPooOooooky.â
âHeâs the shit!â you sang back immediately, without thinking.
Lucifer gasped, delighted, and before you could react he grabbed your face and peppered your cheeks, nose, and forehead with rapid, affectionate kisses.
âWe're a living aspect of the infinite!â he sang between kisses.
Then he pulled back, narrowed his eyes, and struck a dramatic poseâchin lifted, eyes half-lidded, wings subtly flaring as he pretended to smolder.
âIâm nearly a god,â he purred. âWho are you?â
You giggled, fingers curling into his lapels.
âJust your wife, Lu.â
That did it. Luciferâs entire demeanor collapsed.
The bravado melted away. The theatrical arrogance softened into something achingly tender as he stared at you like the world had just rewritten itself around those words. His hands slid carefully to your waist, reverent, grounding.
ââŠMy wife,â he repeated quietly, Lucifer looked utterly undone.
He rested his forehead against yours.
By the time the song ended, you were dizzy and laughing and completely in love with your ridiculous, over-the-top husband.
The crowd applauded, and Lucifer took a dramatic bow, pulling you into it with him.
"Thank you, thank you!" he called out. "We'll be here for eternity! Literally! Marriage is eternal! Very binding!"
Hours later, after dancing and toasts and cake, which Lucifer had insisted on feeding you with an adorable amount of concentration, you found yourself pleasantly tipsy and leaning heavily on your new husband as he guided you toward the stairs.
"Easy, duckie," he said softly, his arm secure around your waist. "One step at a time. There we go. Excellent stepping. Very coordinated steppingâ"
"'M'not drunk," you protested, though you definitely swayed a bit.
"Of course not! Just happily celebratory! Festively inebriated! Matrimonially merryâ" He steadied you as you nearly tripped on a stair. "Okay, maybe a little drunk. That's fine! It's our wedding day! You're allowed!"
He managed to get you up the stairs and down the hall to his roomâyour shared room now, you realized with a flutter in your chest.
Inside, he carefully guided you to sit on the edge of the bed.
"Okay," he said, kneeling in front of you to help with your shoes. "Let's get you comfortable. Starting with these instruments of tortureâ" He carefully removed your heels. "âwho invented high heels? They should be punished. Possibly by being forced to wear them. For eternityâ"
"They weren't that bad," you said, wiggling your freed toes.
"Your feet are all red! Look at them! Red! That's not natural! Feet shouldn't be red!" He was already massaging them gently. "There we go. Better? Much better. Feet should be happy. Content feet. Satisfied widdle feetiesâ"
You giggled. "You're rambling about feet."
"I ramble! It's my thing! My signature move!" He stood up, moving behind you. "Now, the dress. There are... a lot of buttons. So many buttons. Did you see how many buttons this has? It's excessive. Who needs this many buttons? It's like a puzzle. A very complicated, tiny puzzleâ"
His fingers found the first button at the top of your spine, and he started working it free with surprising gentleness.
"âokay, focus, don't mess this up, she trusts you, be careful, be gentle, one button at a timeâ"
The first button came free, and his fingers brushed against your bare skin. You felt him pause, take a breath, then move to the second button.
"You're doing great," you said softly.
"Am I? Because my hands are shaking! Look at them! Actually don't look, that would require turning around, and then I'd lose my place in the button sequenceâ"
The second button slipped free, and he leaned forward, pressing a feather-light kiss to the nape of your neck.
You shivered.
"âthat was okay, right? Neck kissing is allowed? Very romantic? Traditional?â"
Each button revealed a little more of your back, and you could feel his fingertips ghosting over your skin between each one. Gentle. Reverent.
Like you were something precious.
"You know," he continued, his voice softer now, barely above a whisper, "when I imagined this momentânot that I was imagining! Well, okay, maybe a little imagining, but appropriate imagining!âI thought I'd be more nervous. But I'm not. Or I am, but in a good way. Because it's you."
Another button. Another soft kiss, this one placed between your shoulder blades. His lips lingered for a moment, warm and tender.
"And with you, everything feels right. Even when I'm fumbling with what feels like fifty thousand buttonsâ"
"There aren't fifty thousand buttons," you managed, your voice unsteady.
"Feels like it! Could be! I haven't counted! I've been too focused on not accidentally ripping any off because this dress is beautiful and you're beautiful and I'd never forgive myself if Iâ"
His fingers stilled for a moment as he reached the middle of your back. Then he pressed a longer kiss to your spine, his hands splaying gently across your ribs.
"âshe's so soft, so perfect, be gentle, worship her, she deserves to be worshippedâ"
"Lu," you whispered, and you could hear the tremor in your own voice.
"Sorry! Too much? Not enough? I can stop with the kissing if you want! Just say the word and I'll focus purely on buttons! Very professional button work! Extremely top tier unbuttoningâ"
"Its ... it's nice," you said suddenly shy.
You felt him pause, felt his breath catch. "âshe said she likes it, okay, keep going, more buttons, more kisses, this is allowed, this is goodâ"
His hands resumed their work with renewed purpose. Each button was followed by a kissâsoft, reverent touches of his lips against your skin.
Kiss to your left shoulder. Kiss to your right. Kiss to the small of your back that made you gasp softly.
"Almost there," he murmured against your skin, and you could hear the wonder in his voice. "Just a few more. And then you're going to be comfortable. So comfortable. The most comfortable. And I'm going toâI'm going to take care of you. Always. Forever. That's my job now. Husband job. Very important job, my most important jobâ"
Another button. Another kiss. His hands were steadier now, more confident, even as his rambling continued.
"âbest job ever, taking care of you, making sure you're happy and safe and loved, so loved, do you know how much I love you?â"
The final button came free, and he pressed one last, lingering kiss to your spine before carefully helping you slip the dress off your shoulders, revealing the slip you'd been wearing as a base layer, his hands steady and sure despite his rambling.
"There," he said, his voice full of tenderness and awe. "All done. Perfect. You're perfectâ"
He draped his jacket over your shoulders, warming you, his hands resting gently on your arms for a moment.
"I'm just going toâbathroom. I'll be right back. You get comfortable. Take your time. No rush. Absolutely no pressureâ"
In the bathroom, Lucifer splashed cold water on his face and gripped the sink, staring at his reflection.
"Okay," he told himself. "You can do this. You're married now. This is your wedding night. THE wedding night. The most important night. Very significant night. Highly meaningfulâ"
He splashed more water on his face.
"âand she's out there. Your wife. YOUR WIFE. You have a wife. You're a husband. Again. But this time it's different. This time she actually wants to be here. She chose you. She literally came back from Heaven for youâ"
He gripped the sink harder.
"So don't mess this up. Be good. Be gentle. Be whatever she needs. If she just wants to talk, you talk. If she wants silence, you shut upâwhich will be hard, shutting up is not your strong suitâif she wantsâ"
He took a shaky breath.
"What if she expects something? What if you're supposed to do something? Say something? You should have researched this! Read a book! 'Wedding Nights for Disasters'âthat's probably a book, someone's definitely written thatâ"
Another splash of water.
"âokay, breathe. Just breathe. She loves you. She married you. She looked at you during the vows like you were everything. EVERYTHING. And you told her you loved her in front of everyone. You cried. You definitely ugly cried. She saw the ugly crying and she still said 'I do'â"
He looked at his hands, still trembling.
"What if you do something wrong? What if you're too much? Too eager? Not eager enough? What if she's changed her mind? What if she's out there right now thinking 'what have I done, I married the Devil, this was a terrible decision'â"
He shook his head violently.
"âno, stop that, she wouldn't. She's not like that. She's perfect. Patient. Kind. She held your hand while you were asleep and she promised she wasn't going anywhere. She meant it. She means everything she saysâ"
Deep breath.
"Okay. New approach. You go out there. You see what Duckie needs. If she's tired, you let her sleep. If she wants to talk, you listen. If she wantsâif she wants moreâthen youâ" His face flushed warmth spreading across his face.
"âyou be good for her. Gentle. Careful. You treat her like she's the most precious thing in all of creation. Because she IS. She's your wife. Your duckie. Your everythingâ"
He straightened his collar, trying to calm his racing heart.
"You can do this. It's not complicated. Just love her. Take care of her. Be there for her. That's all. That's everything. Justâ"
He looked at himself one more time.
"âbe good enough for her. Somehow. Even though you're not sure how anyone could be good enough for her. But you're going to try. For the rest of eternity, you're going to tryâ"
One more splash of water. One more deep breath.
"Okay. Here we go. Be calm. Be collected. Be the husband she deserves. Don't spiral. Don't ramble too much. Don'tâ"
He realized he was rambling to himself in the bathroom on his wedding night.
"âthis is fine. This is normal. Everyone talks to themselves in the bathroom. Very common. Extremely standard behaviorâ"
He dried his face, straightened his collar one more time, and opened the door.
The sight that greeted him made every anxious thought evaporate instantly.
You were curled up in the middle of the bed, still wearing his jacket over your slip, your hair spread out on the pillow. Your eyes were closed, your breathing even and peaceful.
You'd fallen asleep.
"Oh, duckie," he whispered, all his nervous energy draining away into pure, overwhelming affection.
He approached the bed quietly, looking down at you with such love it physically hurt. Then, with a gentle wave of his hand, golden magic shimmered over both of you.
Your slip and his jacket transformed into soft satin pajamasâcomfortable and elegant. His own clothes shifted into matching pajamas.
Carefully, so carefully, he climbed into bed beside you. You stirred slightly, instinctively moving toward his warmth, and he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close.
You settled against his chest with a contented sigh, still asleep. Lucifer pressed a kiss to your forehead, his eyes stinging with happy tears.
"This is perfect," he whispered into your hair. "You're perfect. This whole day was perfect. I don't need anything else. Just this. Just you. Just us."
You made a small, sleepy sound and burrowed closer. He tightened his arms around you, his wings manifesting to curl around you both like a protective cocoon.
"I love you," he murmured. "My wife. My beautiful, perfect wife. My Queen. Thank you for choosing me. Thank you for staying. Thank you for being exactly who you are."
He was quiet for a moment, just holding you, breathing in the scent of your hair, feeling the steady rhythm of your heartbeat against his chest.
Then, because he was Lucifer and couldn't help himself, he started talking again. Softer now, excited and rambling in that way that meant he was happy and couldn't contain it.
"Oh! I forgot to tell you about the honeymoon! Well, not forgot, more like didn't have time with all the wedding planning and the crown situationâwhich, again, sorry about that, should have mentioned the Queen thing earlierâbut I've been planning this for weeks!"
You shifted slightly in your sleep, and he adjusted his hold on you, keeping you comfortable.
"We're going to tour the kingdom! All seven rings! I know you've only seen Pride so far, and Pride is... well, it's chaotic, very chaotic, possibly the most chaotic ring, which makes sense since I live hereâ"
He pressed another kiss to your head.
"But the other rings! Duckie, they're incredible! Each one is so different! Greed has these cities made entirely of moneyâliterally, buildings made of cash, very capitalist, extremely materialisticâand Gluttony has the best food in all of Hell! Bee throws these parties that are justâthey're something else! You'll love her, she's very energetic, very enthusiastic, reminds me of Charlie actuallyâ"
His hand traced gentle patterns on your back as he talked.
"And Lust! Don't worry, we don't have to stay long if you're not comfortable, but Ozzie runs it and he's surprisingly decent for aâwell, he's good people. Sin. Good Sin. You know what I mean. And the architecture there is actually beautiful! Very artistic! Extremely aestheticâ"
You mumbled something in your sleep and nestled closer, and his heart melted all over again.
"Sloth is very relaxing. Might be good after all the wedding excitement. Bel knows all about healthcare and rest and taking it easy. We could spend a few days there, just being lazy, sleeping in, no responsibilitiesâ"
He kissed your forehead again, unable to help himself.
"Wrath is... intense. Very intense. Lots of farms, surprisingly good food. Satan's kind of aggressive, very into the whole gym thing, but he respects strength and you've got strengthâemotional strength, the best kindâyou protected me from Lute, you faced down a angel for me, you're so brave, duckie, so braveâ"
His voice was getting softer, more filled with wonder.
"And Envy! Oh, Envy is going to be interesting! Leviathan's domain is all underwater cities and jealousy andâactually, maybe we skip that one, Levi can be a bit much, very possessive energy, might not be the best honeymoon destinationâ"
He chuckled quietly to himself.
"We can figure it out as we go. Take our time. See everything. I want to show you all of it. My kingdom. Your kingdom now too. I want you to see all seven rings, meet the other Sins, see how beautiful Hell can be when you know where to lookâ"
You sighed contentedly in your sleep, and he held you tighter.
"We'll go wherever you want to go. Stay as long as you want to stay. If you hate a ring, we leave immediately. If you love one, we stay for weeks. This is your honeymoon too. Your choice. Your comfort. Always your comfortâ"
His wings curled tighter around you both.
"I'm going to make this the best honeymoon ever. The best tour ever. I'm going to show you everything beautiful about Hell. And when we come back, we'll figure out the Queen thing together. I'll teach you everything. Or nothing, if you don't want to learn. Whatever you need. Whatever makes you happyâ"
He yawned, exhaustion finally catching up with him.
"We have forever now," he murmured, his eyes starting to close. "Literal forever. Eternity together. I can't believe I'm lucky enough to have eternity with youâI'm going to spend every single day making sure you know how loved you are. How precious. How perfectâ"
His voice was barely a whisper now.
"My duckie. My wife. My Queen. My everythingâ"
And with you in his arms, his wings wrapped around you both, and dreams of showing you all seven rings dancing in his head, Lucifer finally drifted off to sleep.
S.T.I.C.K. Goat 2571 @stick-goat-2571 - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
