[ tw major character death.. grief.. , solomon is full of love therefore he is full of grief , my first proper angst WOOOOO ]
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It's strange, really. Many had put in more effort into capturing his affection. Given his power and position in between the three realms, he understands. After all, this isn't his first romantic relationship: There were bound to be a few he gained feelings for within the countless marriages and concubines he had back in the day.
But all it took was you placing your lips on the tips of his digits, softly, tenderly, like you truly like him for him and not the benefits that come from being with him, and his chest squeezes. He helplessly stares in awe as you lift his other wrist and shower the fingers the same action. Something warm crawls from your mouth and seeps into his skin, nestling its way into his chest and making a place there, all light and floaty.
Your gaze meets his then, answered with a quirk of his eyebrow before you giggle and lean closer. Hands slowly trailing up his biceps, his solid shoulders, then until his face fits into the shape of your palms. The sorcerer breathes out a sigh, eyes closing with no resistance. A soft sensation lands on his right cheek. It stays for a while. Next on his left one. Oh, this pattern. Another to his forehead. Solomon feels the corners of his lips twitch in anticipation of what comes next.
He memorizes. Those lips that are slightly chapped; you're always so busy taking care of others you forget to hydrate yourself. How they fit and feel just right against his. Like you two were meant to be. Like he waited this many centuries just for you to exist. Like it's alright that everyone doubts him so long if he gets to meet you anyway.
He waits.
He waits.
Peeking an eye open, Solomon is ready with a teasing remark on his tongue only to be met with the four walls of his room.
It's strange, really.
He blinks, only then being aware of how blurry his vision has gotten when he feels fat blobs sliding down his face. The palms cradling his face now feels oddly too familiar. Like your hands, the back of his mind says.
It's strange, really.
He knows you love him. He knows he loves you. He also knows he will love you longer.
a little yap. i purposely use present tense for 'he knows you love him' part cause.. idk. i feel our love even if shorter can last him a lifetime just because of how much it means to him because he loves us so so much ok bye.
Part 9 of the Fortification Series (based on this request)
Genre: hurt/comfort, angst, some fluff
Written for a GN!MC, though the partner is written as male.
WC: ~4.4k
TRIGGER WARNING: Each part contains graphic depictions of various types of abuse, please see specific content warnings for each individual part.
CW: sexual abuse/assault, physical abuse, emotional abuse, threats, intimidation, graphic torture, graphic violence and gore, strangulation & hanging via rope, eye mutilation, self-harm via cutting, urination/incontinence, swearing
Series Masterlist
Note: Though I do have a masters degree in Psychology and clinical training in treating survivors of abuse, I am not your therapist, nor is this fic intended to take the place of professional help. If you are experiencing any type of abuse, please seek support from a professional. Utilize the Victim Connect Resource Center to get connected to the appropriate helpline.
THIS ONE IS PRETTY GRAPHIC, PLEASE MIND THE WARNINGS. I figured I’d crank out a longer finale to the series because I wanted to end it with a bang, and also because I love Barbatos and haven’t written a lot for him!!!
“Welcome everyone! I am glad you could all join me this evening!” Diavolo beamed, pleased with his gathering of the exchange students for a fun weekend at the castle. “We will be having dinner in about two hours; please take some time to find your respective rooms and explore the castle. Since the brothers wont be joining us until tomorrow evening, you will all have solo rooms for the night!”
You gulp, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. A “retreat” at the castle with only the other exchange students meant that you would be away from your primary protectors- the ones who vowed to keep you safe from your boyfriend as you figured out a way to end the relationship peacefully. You really thought he would change after coming to Devildom. But in reality, the tense atmosphere and laissez faire rules surrounding interpersonal conduct only enabled him to treat you worse. You had tried your best to work up the courage to end things, but the more violent he became, the harder it was to do.
Mammon was the first to realize something was wrong. You begged him not to tell anyone for fear of retaliation, but he knew you needed more help. Soon enough, each of the brothers were always around you, ensuring your boyfriend couldn’t hurt you (mentally or physically) as long as they were by your side. Lucifer had been trying to make an official report to Diavolo, but it appeared that with their interventions, they didn't have any recent enough evidence to address it. So you went on with their protection; to intimidate him enough to back off...and it worked, too.
Until tonight.
You gulp, feeling your boyfriend’s hand squeeze yours threateningly. You knew that he knew you were going to try to leave, and that the brothers were always there in order for you to avoid his “punishments.” That’s why he suggested this little “retreat” to Divaolo in the first place- to finally get you vulnerable enough to do whatever he wanted.
Diavolo relieved you all to your quarters, and your boyfriend tugs on you aggressively. As he drags you in the direction of the west spire stairs, you hear your name called from behind.
“Mc, I am actually needing you to stay behind with me.”
You and your boyfriend turn, seeing Barbatos approaching from Diavolo’s side. He eyes your boyfriend before turning his attention back to you, a warm smile decorating his face.
“M-me? Why?”
Barbatos stops in front of you, extending his hand for you to take instead of your boyfriends. “Diavolo has requested that the cuisine prepared tonight incorporates some food from the human world, as we have yet to really taste any delicacies from your culture. I know you are quite fond of cooking, so I figured having your aid in this venture would be useful for preparation and tasting.”
Before you could answer, your boyfriend squeezes your hand tightly- so tight, that you feared of your fingers breaking under his grip. You clamp your mouth shut, knowing that this was a sign for you to be quite and let him speak. You try to hold back tears as you feel the joint of your thumb pop- clearly dislocating like it had so many times in the past.
“I don’t know why you would pick them, of all people.” The man scoffs and shakes his head. “The food they make isn’t much better than the slop you all eat here.”
Barbatos’ eye twitches in annoyance, his warm smile quickly dropping into a frown. “I apologize that our food isn’t up to your standards, (name), but I have faith in Mc’s ability to assist in this matter. If you’re standing in opposition, I would like a better reason than you having poor taste in food.”
Your boyfriend continues squeezing your hand, Barbatos’ challenging of his words increasing his anger. After a tense moment of staring each other down, your boyfriend drops your hand and turns away. “Whatever. Do what you want.”
He storms off, pushing one of the little Ds out of the way as he trudged up the stairs. You breathe a sigh of relief, the panic of being alone with him subsiding slightly. You turn to Barbatos, who still has his hand outstretched to you.
Barbatos takes your hand, not missing the wince crossing your features as he gently directs you along. Silently, the two of you walked to the kitchen, and you settled in chopping some vegetables while Barbatos and some of the little Ds worked on the pastries and attended to the pots on the stove. Some of the tension you felt in your muscles released as you focused on your tasks, entranced to the point where you didn’t notice Barbatos’ concerned glances at you between his own tasks.
He was a very perceptive demon, and he could easily see the rage brewing behind your boyfriend’s eyes when he grabbed your hand and dragged you along with him. Barbatos also had enough of a glimpse into your timeline to know of the horrid things this man had done to you, and he had warned Diavolo of having both of you here together for the exchange program, but the prince insisted that the exchange program could somehow resolve or mend these wounds. Barbatos could almost laugh at the naivety of it, if the situation wasn’t clearly life threatening to you.
He found his mind wandering to the incident shortly before you came here- the last thing he had seen in your timeline before having enough of the sickening visuals of the man's behaviors. Forcing you into such obscene acts when your distressed “no’s” could be surely be heard by anyone within a mile radius still haunted his mind when he found his thoughts wandering to you, and he struggled in feeling guilt for not demanding the prince do something about him sooner. While he was glad that the brothers took notice, he couldn’t help but feel as if he enabled the abuse, and Diavolo suggesting such an isolated retreat- under your boyfriend’s suggestion no less- only made him feel worse.
“Barbatos?”
The butler snapped his attention up from the dough he had been kneading, meeting your uncertain eyes. “Hmm?”
“I said I’m finished with the carrots and beets.” You swallow, unsure of why the usually attentive butler had failed to hear you the first time. “Is there anything else you need me to do?”
Barbatos smiled, turning to grab a mixing bowl and some other ingredients. “Yes, I will have you mix these together here. I have the measurements written down here.”
He hands you the open cookbook flipped to a recipe for brown-sugar glazed veggies. As you grab it, you feel the lingering pain from the dislocated thumb jolt through you. You hiss at the sharp pain, dropping the book and sending various ingredients and spices spilling all over the counter and the floor.
“Shit!” You quickly hop off your stool trying to clean up the ingredients as fast as you can despite the throbbing in your hand. Your heart pounds in your ears, completely horrified to what your punishment from the demon would be for your clumsiness. You knew he rivaled Lucifer in his strictness, and his controlled demeanor suggested anything less than perfection would not be tolerated. You yelp as the pain continues up your arm, clutching it to your chest to sooth it.
Barbatos rounds the counter, coming to aid your injury. What he didnt expect, however, was for your to flinch underneath his attempts to console you, and beg for forgiveness for your error. His heart drops as you sob, begging him not to hit you for what you’ve done.
Barbatos slowly sinks down to one knee, gently rubbing your shoulders and reassuring that he had no intentions on harming you. He felt sick, thinking that this is what you had been reduced to as a result of your boyfriend’s abuse. As your tears finally slow, he aided in wrapping your hand, ensuring your thumb would be set into place as you continued to sit with him in the kitchen. There was no way he would send you back out to two straight hours of abuse.
Instead, he let you play some music from the human world, lightening the mood a bit and teaching him things about how various genres sounded in comparison to the Devildom. After the primary dishes were finished and popped into the oven, Barbatos turned to you, reaching across the counter to study your hand injury. You watched him, nervous about what he was thinking as he traced the injury with his index finger.
“He did this...” Barbatos looked up at you, his hardened stare meeting your anxious eyes to confirm what he already knew was the truth.
You gulped. “I...uh...”
“It’s okay.” He cooed, closing his hands around yours and rubbing your wrist gently with his thumb. “I already know... I’m sorry I didn’t help you sooner.”
You blinked at him in surprise. “Wha- I...How...?”
Barbatos gave a short, sad smile, before his lips fell back into a frown. “It isn’t important how I know of the things he’s done to you, Mc. What is important though, is that I will stop at nothing to prevent him from hurting you again.”
You look away, tears slowly sliding down your cheeks. “I...I don’t think you can do anything. I mean, he’s been getting away with it for so long, I-”
Barbatos hushed you, wiping away stray tears from your cheeks. “Let me take care of it. Trust me when I say that he will pay for what he's done.”
You smile weakly as Barbatos pulls you into a gentle hug. Feeling the warmth of his body as he caressed you made you feel safe. You wanted to believe him- to believe there would be an end to this awful, awful nightmare.
It took so long for him to get you alone, but finally, he managed to do it.
After having your fill of socializing for the evening, and you had said your goodnight’s to everyone, you had gone off to bed. Barbatos reminded you to double latch the door- something he had put in place specifically because of your vulnerability- but he didn’t account for the fact that your boyfriend seemingly had more magic affinity than anticipated. He easily bypassed the locks on your door as you readied yourself for bed, slamming the door open and approaching you with pure disdain in his eyes.
“So, what- you’re telling the help all of our private business now too?” He snarled as he approached you, backing you completely into the wall.
“N-no! I didn’t say anything, I swear.” You squeak, trying to hide your exposed body away from him.
“Bullshit.” he spat in your face, quickly grabbing you by the arm and throwing you onto the bed.
You panic, trying to run away, but he grabs you by the arm and jerks you backwards again, this time pinning you against the plush mattress. You feel the ache in your arm as he grips you tighter, hurling accusations and insults at you, and threating to punish you unless you prove your devotion to him. Your heart stops when you feel his posterior press against you, nausea creeping up in your stomach.
Not again.
You beg him to leave you alone, saying you don’t want any of the things he was going to do, but your pleas fall upon deaf ears. He rips what little clothing you have away before making work of his own. You cry in desperation, screaming for help before he silences you with a harsh slap to the face.
“Shut the fuck up.” The man hisses, posturing himself over you.
You whimper, closing your eyes as you prepare for the worst. But the sound of the door slamming open stirs you from your dissociated state.
No words are spoken from your savior, only the growls in anger from your boyfriend, followed by the sounds of a physical struggle.
and then...silence.
You open your eyes, noticing some furniture flipped over in the room and an unfamiliar afghan thrown over the edge of the bed, but other than that no one else was there. There’s a soft nock at your door, followed by Simeon’s voice asking if you were okay. You quickly dress yourself in a robe and shakily greet him, Luke, and Solomon, asking if they can keep you company while you process what had just happened. They each sit around you, Simeon letting you rest your head in his lap, Solomon fixing up your room, and Luke holding your hand while you come down from the panic. You hoped that, where ever he was, your boyfriend would not be returning.
Barbatos forced the door open with ease after hearing your desperate cries for help, requesting that the other concerned exchange students stay back until the room went quiet. He had intended to give you fresh blankets and to teach you a spell to teleport yourself out of your room if you needed to, but he had underestimated that horrid man’s tenacity in exerting his control over you.
Seeing the man attempting to sexually assault you threw him over the edge. Barbatos quickly threw him off you, holding him by the neck with his tails. The man thrashed as he choked for air, but his attempts at freedom were worthless under Barbatos' hold. Barbatos stole a sad, longing glance at your trembling form, feeling immense guilt for you having clearly been hurt again. He made a silent promise to return when he was finished with the scum of a man before disappearing through a portal.
He stepped through to his room, the man kicking and yelling as he dragged his naked body along the brick floor. Barbatos’ mind swarmed with all of the things he wanted to do to him, but he couldn’t settle on just one. Oh- no, no. This man needed to suffer for all he had done.
Barbatos made his way swiftly to the small side room off to the left from his bedchambers. The man squealed as a few bats hissed and flapped around his face, trying his best to shoo them away by flailing his arms. Barbatos scoffed at his trivial fear of a small, harmless animal. He would surely show him what true fear was.
Throwing him into the wall upside down, the man yelped when his back hit the cragged brick. He fell on his neck, groaning at the strain as he tried to right himself. While the man was preoccupied, Barbatos flicked the door shut, 7 locks latching in place at the snap of his fingers. He paced in front of the man, thoughts of how he would make him suffer first racing through his head.
“What the fuck, man?!” the man yelled, trying to find his bearings as he got up off the floor. “You can’t hurt me! I...I’m an exchange student!!”
Once the man was able to adjust his vision to the dark, his heart began to beat faster with anxiety. Seeing Barbatos’ lips curled up into a snarl, his teeth glistening in the moonlight feeding into the room from the large window struck terror into his heart. His serpent-like eyes burned brightly in a viridian hue, piercing the man’s soul. His tail, thrashing behind him, shimmered turquoise, the veins glowing brighter the angrier he seemed to become.
“Just who do you think you are!” He snapped, now standing up to confront the demon. He thought perhaps Barbatos was merely just trying to frighten him, and convinced himself that his status as an exchange student would grant him immunity from harm. “What we do in the bedroom is none of your god damn business!”
Barbatos stopped pacing, fully turning to face the man. His snarl grew, giving the man a better view of his sharp fangs. He felt intense fury flare within his heart as the man tried to assert that you had consented to sexual acts in any way, and he found it difficult to restrain himself from straight-up killing the man. If only this bull-headed man was wise, he would shut his mouth.
“Is that so?” Barbatos hissed. “Because I seem to recall you having no qualms with making it everyone's business in the past. And I don't think screaming for help means anything consensual is going on in that circumstance.”
The man’s eyes widened. “W-what are you talking about?”
Barbatos smirked. “I know much more than you think I do, (name).”
Barbatos stepped forward, now toe-to-toe with the crumbling human before him. Every attempt to back up was met with another forward step, until the man was backed against the wall with no hope for escape.
“At first I was surprised at seeing such despicable behavior from a human.” Barbatos growled, his eyes transfixed on the man’s. He followed his gaze as it darted around the room, searching desperately for some way out. “And I must say, Most demons wouldn’t behave in such a manner toward someone so virtuously innocent. Though, after looking back on human history, it appears that scum like you have done terrible things since the beginning of time.”
The man gulped, trying to side-step the demon and make a run for the door. Barbatos punched the wall next to his head, the brick giving way beneath his fists. Remnants of the brick wall burst from the impact, showering the floor with clay fragments. The man froze, realizing that brick could easily have been his head.
Barbatos cocked his head to the side as the man began to tremble before him. He smirked, knowing he had really begun to strike fear into the man. “I think it’s time your debts came due.”
The man gulped as Barbatos turned away, disappearing into the darkest corner of the room. The man bolted for the door, fumbling with the locks as best he could, though the magic seals rendered them frozen in place.
“Attempting to escape is futile.” Barbatos hissed from the darkness, causing the hairs on the back of the mans neck to stand on end. “Though, it is somewhat amusing that you think you can circumvent justice...”
Before the man could react, a noose fell over his head and he was yanked backwards. A 7-pointed star was painted in black ink on the ground, only barely visible in the low light of the moon. The man was hung in the center, his feet just barely able to touch the ground. He attempted to stand on his toes, desperate to lessen the bite of the rope against his windpipe.
Barbatos approached from the corner, murmuring a spell in a tongue the man didn’t understand. The man tried to speak, but his voice was rendered inaudible over Barbatos’ chants. Barbatos then held up a knife to his own palm, slicing just enough to draw blood and dripping it into a small wooden bowl. After tossing in a few more ingredients, He approached the man.
“I give you the curse of eternal life.” Barbatos remarked, kneeling before the man and dowsing the star in the liquid he created. “It can only be ended by the separation of your brain and heart from your body.”
The man furrowed his brow in confusion, managing to choke out a “W-what?”
Barbatos glanced up, muttering more incompressible words before whispering to the man. “You will soon see.”
The star began to glow a yellowish-green, completely blinding the man for a moment. His skin prickled with electricity for a moment, but it was fleeting as the light faded. He blinked into the dark, finally adjusting enough to see the outline of Barbatos’ figure in front of him.
“Time for a test to see if the curse was successful.” Barbatos noted, a slight curiosity present in his tone, before reaching behind him and yanking down.
Suddenly the man was 5feet off the ground, his ability to breathe completely cut off. He clawed desperately at the rope, trying to free himself, but was unable to get his fingers around the thick fibers that continued to tighten around his neck. He hung there for what seemed like an eternity, praying that death would find him to end the suffering instead after being unable to break free...but death never came.
“Perfect.” Barbatos mused, a nefarious smirk playing on his lips. He dropped the rope that held the man, watching as he fell to the floor.
The man’s body slammed on the ground in a fit of coughs and gulps of air, trying to fill his lungs with as much of it as he could. It wasn’t long before he again felt the pull of the rope on his neck, choking him as he was dragged across the floor.
He wasn’t quite sure when the texture of the floor shifted, but soon enough he felt gritty dirt beneath him rather than the jagged brick of the room he was previously in. He was able to see the remnants of a portal when his eyes focused on the distance, but it quickly dissipated into the low candle light. He could make out some old doors in the dim lighting, but between the tension on his throat and the clouds of dust, his vision could not focus long enough to get any bearings for his surroundings.
Barbatos pulled the man through one of the doors, stopping only to just barely to restrain the man by his arms and neck. Barbatos kicked his knees in from the back, forcing him down in a kneeling position. He gathered his instruments, not caring to ensure they were clean from their previous uses, but being mindful of their sharpness.
Barbatos turned to the man with the long blade he had selected, trailing it across the man’s cheek as observed him. He was eerily silent as he circled his prey, calculating what his first move would be. He felt the ground below wetten as the man soiled himself in fear of what was to come. He scoffed at the cowardice, continuing to trail the blade down the mans bare back to make him tremble in terror.
“I will tell you now, though you may have figured it out- my purpose of giving you eternal life was to prolong your suffering.” He mused, beginning to push the blade a bit harder as he outlined his plan for the man’s torture. “The audacity you have in harming Mc deserves such a punishment.”
Before the man could speak, Barbatos thrust the blade into the left of the man’s upper back. He screamed, begging the butler to end his torture before it had even begun. Barbatos smirked, finding joy in the man’s pain- knowing that he was serving justice for you and what he had put you through for so long.
“Pleading will get you nowhere, you unctuous swine. I have no intent on bringing you mercy,” Barbatos hissed, ripping away the layers of skin and muscles away to expose the bone and organs beneath. He did the same with the right side, relishing in the agonized wails of the man as he skillfully sliced back the flesh.
The man sobbed, trying to thrash against his binds, but giving up when the attempts to flee made the pain worse for him. He even attempted to cast magic to stop Barbatos, not realizing that the butler’s magical affinity was much stronger- especially given the man’s weakened state. Barbatos pinned the tissue back and tethered it magically to the walls of the cell, almost creating a grotesque sculpture of a human with wings.
As he finished pinning the right side, his mind wandered to you, and he found himself longing to return to your aid and ensure you that your safety had been prioritized...but he knew he needed to complete this first. He sighed, finding himself speeding through the last bits of the man’s torment. He aggressively ripped the man’s lungs from their place and pulled them through either side of his spine, producing pained wheezes and coughs as he again struggled to breathe. He stepped back, admiring his work and how he managed to escape with very little blood covering his person, though the cell was coated from top to bottom. He walked around to the front of the man, tilting his chin up with the knife to look him in the eyes.
“You are the lowliest human I have ever had the displeasure in meeting. I only wish that your torture could continue on by my hand, but I am pleased to know that your life will only be agony from here on. Perhaps another day I will return and finally offer you the release of death...that is, if the maggots don’t consume you first.”
The man screeched, demanding Barbatos free him at once. The butler frowned, irritated by the man’s bold attempt at ordering him around. With a few flicks of his wrist, the man’s eyes were cut clean from his skull, plopping onto the floor amongst the mixture of urine and blood. With only a grin in response, Barbatos turned on his heel and left the cell, triple locking the door for safe measure. The man’s screams could be heard through the catacombs of the castle, silenced only when Barbatos closed the portal to his room.
A soft knock at the door jolted you from your slumber. The others had returned to their rooms once you insisted you were okay, ensuring you that you could call on them should you need something. You weren't sure why, but the only one you wanted to hold you at that point was Barbatos. You felt comforted by his presence, and after your talk earlier that evening and his assurance that he would protect you, you felt safer with him than any of the others.
You shuddered in the cool night air as you padded toward the door, unlocking and opening it just a crack to greet who was there. Part of you feared it was your boyfriend, back from wherever he was carted off to. To your relief, it was Barbatos, who was holding a tray of tea and sweet rolls.
“How are you doing?” He cooed, rubbing up and down your back gently.
“I'm aware that it’s late, but...may I come in?” Barbatos' voice was saccharine as he spoke, obviously being careful not to cause you much more stress.
You eagerly welcomed him in. He put the tray down on your nightstand, then turned toward you. Before you had a chance to sit on your bed, he gathered you in a tight embrace. You blinked rapidly in surprise, but melted into his arms, squeezing him back just as tightly.
“Mmm...okay, I suppose...” you murmured back, nuzzling your face against his neck. “Is...is he gone now?”
Barbatos pulled away, a shimmer of something sinister passing by his eyes. He assumed you could have guessed it was him who had taken care of the man you once called a boyfriend, but it still made his chest swell with pride that you were able to identify him so easily as your savior. “Yes. He will not be harming anyone anymore.”
You nod once, relief washing over you in waves. Barbatos sat next to you on the bed, giving your shoulders a gentle massage after pouring you some tea. You almost found his light scolding on your posture aggravating, but you knew they came from a place of reassurance that you were now safe- as long as the loyal butler remained by your side.
Can I have a reader who’s been coddled a lot by their family but instead of becoming a brat, they end up paranoid and thinks everyone is out to get them except for their family?
paranoia
lucifer x mc!reader • 0.4k , satan x mc!reader • 0.7k (separate)
familial/romantic; comfort (?? not really), angst
[ a lot of these are implied rather than stated , no direct mention of family because family is mmm... subjective (sorry if this isnt what you wanted anon 🥲🙏 this is more like a current pov how it affected reader if that makes sense) , satan's part is longer sorry lucifer lovers , tw lucifer's *might* also be interpreted as paranoid of sa.. but i was trying to focus more on the intimacy of sleeping together /not sexual , brief topic of death in satan's , i'm breaking this up into several parts before this collect dusts and never see the world , originally written in a familial pov but some might view it as romantic so see it how u like :) ]
obey me masterlist | main masterlist | other sibling's ver tba..
lucifer — written in his pov
It's a privilege in itself to be called to Lucifer's chamber therefore you should understand the nuances yourself, shouldn't you? He's not one to bare his vulnerable, resting moments to just anyone so why is it you're rejecting his offer to sleep together? The eldest knows this would be the first, if you accept, of the moments where you get to develop the connection deeper, his biggest sin will perhaps be slipping off under the guise of half to little conciousness of the late hours. But alas, he accepts your rejection. You'll come around, he convinces himself.
Next time he asked was a response to your texts, claiming how you're having a hard time to sleep, his eyes skimming your vague explanation: 'Just overthinking.' The solution is right there. His bed is the biggest and coziest. Lined up in a few of his cupboards are also rows of liquor, ranging from every high end brands, guaranteed to help you ease your mind. It has the opposite effect, he realizes, when you take a few moments only to type out your short reply.
'It's fine.'
Lucifer shifts the phone in his palm, staring at the screen with pursed lips. By now, he should feel the pride rolling off your room in waves. How you're more like him, maybe hiding behind this well made facade. Maybe you want to think you're more reliable than him. Nothing comes however. That's... weird.
He writes a few more texts to convince you. Surely by now, you must have at least warmed up a little to him, no? But you insist on declining, and it's one hour later the eldest decides to check up on you. Just to make sure. The knock on the door startles you, a faint gasp resounding from within your bedroom.
So still awake.
It's quiet for a while before he knocks a second time.
Silence.
Are you perhaps just uncomfortable? Does the idea of sleeping with another person really that intimate to humans? Not like he couldn't relate. A sad smile tugs on his lips at the thought, his voice almost somber as he calls out your name.
"I'm worried about you. Please come to my room, it's much more comfortable to sleep there. I won't be there until tomorrow's afternoon, if you're worried."
Diavolo's castle should be able to assist him with an extra room. 'So a sleepover?', he could already hear that enthusiastic tone of the demon prince. Sigh.
"Goodnight, little lamb." He ends, stepping further from your room.
It's only the next day that he comes home to a bed too neatly made, and the warmth lingering on his mattress.
satan — written in mc pov
"It's really a blessing your kind isn't easily accessible to magic and spells."
Here he goes again.
Lately, he's been cozying up to you. After making a pact with him, in which he offered because he's starting to respect you (or so he says), he's been weirdly into... this.
"What do you mean?" You try to play along, feigning indifference as you flip through the book in your hand, bold letters of '101 Easy, Simple Ways to Hoax A Demon!' etched on the cover.
From the corner of your eyes, you can see his smile, their corners almost reaching his ears as he absentmindedly trace over one of the pentagrams he made earlier in your study session. "Well, take you for example. You didn't even know the protection spells when you started. And ordering us right away with our pacts.. It would've ended bad if the magic didn't end up working out in your favour. Had you not have her bloodline.." The fourth sibling trails into a silence after that, his face turning grim.
Is he... mocking you? ...Showing himself off? He doesn't even have any connection to her. Satan, out of all people? Or really is he just implying had it not been for you being a 'special human', you would have turned weak and stood no chance against demons and other oh-so-mighty beings?
He turns to you then, and you have half the mind to roll your eyes, your fist gripped tightly into a ball by your side. "I know you're still practicing.. So, if you'd like to sometime test it out on our bond, I don't mind." He finally says and you would almost believe his intentions to be pure if not for his previous remark.
Is he... trying to get to you? Use you? Test the limits of this so called great magic you didn't even ask to have?
The Avatar of Wrath has always been into intellectual things and like right now, debate is his most common form. Arguing for the sake of arguing. You think it's stupid. But you don't dare say it when you yourself aren't quite sure if the amount of knowledge you have can even compare to his hundreds of years living. He certainly revels in directly teaching you how stupid you can be, and watch you fall right into his palms until he has the upper side of your relationship. You must have stayed silent for too long when he starts to wave his hand in front of your face and calls out your name. "Are you.. okay? You can say no, you know."
Blinking away your thoughts, you bookmark the book and set it aside, a small crack in your voice when you do open your mouth. "Is this.. a prank..? You're looking down on me aren't you?"
His green eyes dilate, like he wasn't expecting this reaction out of you. Wasn't this what he wanted? Satan's hand reaches out to your shoulder before he stops himself, opting to furrow his eyebrows instead. "Where did you even get that?"
At the answer, you look away, swallowing down the fear and irritation both in one gulp. He has the nerve to act all coy...
"You were basically saying I'm stupid with magic because I'm not like you- You- You demons!"
Is that one of his powers too? To make your wrath pulled from so deep within onto the surface? Satan only scoffs at that, pushing back a few strands of hair with one hand. "Like Lilith, you mean. Even I am the furthest thing out of her sibling." He releases a sigh, one too deep and breathy. "I was saying... It's a blessing to not have humans easily know about sorcery because.. You usually never get the basics down first, and that's dangerous. Although I admire you, that decision was reckless unless you already reach Solomon's level. And..."
You dare yourself to peek at him while he continues. "I'm glad it turned out the opposite. You humans have short lives, it.. wouldn't be nice to shorten it." For a few seconds, he simply stares at you, your gaze averting again when you murmur with pursed lips. "Thanks... I guess..."
The blonde replies with a small smile of his own, a tilt to his head. "..So? Care to test your magic out on me?"
i hope i did this right because i wasn't sure whether the family entails to mc!reader's human one or the brothers but i perceived it as the first... and wasn't sure whether it’s supposed to be more time-specific (??) so i had this approach instead 😞🫠🙏
His pride was what fueled him- what kept him sane through his brother’s reckless and flat-out destructive behavior. Pride made him continue encouraging his family to do better, and it kept his love for them from faltering. It kept him loyal and obedient, responding diligently to Lord Diavolo’s every request- no matter how frivelous it was. It made him resilient and gave him strength to stand up for what he felt was right...But it also made him naive.
Pride kept him disillusioned to the idea that you would be safe in the Devildom if you just kept your head down and did what you were told- that there weren’t any demons bold enough to try to harm Diavolo’s gem of an exchange student, or that the exchange student wouldn’t fall prey to manipulation.
Lucifer stared at your foggy eyes. He was in utter disbelief at how, just hours before, you had such joyous life filling your entire being. And now, you were completely lifeless, with blood staining the shreds of clothes that remained on your body and pooling on the floor beneath your mangled corpse.
Time seemed to slow down as the foundation of Lucifer’s entire being shattered right in front of him- the cackles of Belphegor’s laughter ringing so loudly in his head. The flesh stuck to his claws and teeth combined with the deranged behavior only made the reality sink in more.
He was the one who killed you. His own brother.
A scream from behind him jerked his body back to reality. Lucifer’s other brothers pushed past, each completely devastated to see what the youngest had done. Mammon wailed as he clutched you to his chest, begging for you to stay with him, while Asmo and Levi began to sob relentlessly. Satan turned the other way, not wanting to look at what was left of you. Beel stood frozen, staring down at his twin with betrayal seeping from every inch.
“Belphie...What have you done.” Lucifer was barely able to even get the words out, his volume barely a whisper as his legs propelled him forward robotically.
He didn’t register what the youngest had replied with- only hearing what little remnants of your voice his brain had been able to salvage as it dug for some piece of you to cling to.
Lucifer fell to his knees on your other side, hands trembling as he reached out and touched your cheek. Even through his gloves, he could feel how cold you were. It was far to late to cast any spells to bring you back- to have your pleasant energy back into the house once more.
The room erupted into the sounds of violent thrashing as Satan’s anger finally erupted, along with the expressions of betrayal and grief from his other brothers blending together in his mind. All you had fixed was now falling apart right in front of him, and he was the one to blame for not being able to protect you or his own family...
Music Accompaniment (The Bird and the Worm thru It's Been Awhile)
CW: heavy on the angst, similar to “replaced” au but with Simeon being “replaced”, depression, depictions of aggressive/violent thoughts, sexual intimacy implied, allusion to past sexual violence in Vermillion Skies, nightmare, vague illusion to torture.
>> Though I have a Masters Degree in Psychology, I am not your therapist. If you have experienced any form of depression or suicidal thoughts, and are in need of help, please utilize the Suicide Prevention Lifeline, NIMH helpline, or the SAMHSA helpline. <<
You can find any future parts by searching the tag #Vermillion Skies or #Melancholia on my blog! I have added it to all parts!”
Series Masterlist
The next few days flew by quickly, for most- with the exception of Simeon. He watched from afar as those he once fostered closeness with existed in relative peace without him. He watched from the side as Luke and Mc joyfully rekindled their love of baking together, and saw Raphael becoming accepted with open arms by the demons in Devildom, while he was whispered about in the halls and mostly avoided.
Simeon sighed, running a hand through his hair as he stared into the bathroom mirror. The jealousy and heartache was almost becoming too much to bear. It only worsened with the onset of classes, finding the workload and expectations of the Royal Academy were far beyond what he experienced as an exchange student. Part of him felt sympathy for the brothers for their continuous struggle with passing classes while Lucifer berated them for poor marks, but another part of him was furious in that they got to wallow in their pity together. Simeon gritted his teeth, fighting the urge to punch the mirror as the anger seeped into his soul.
It appears that the price of love was a heavier burden to bear than he had anticipated.
The weight was slung heavily over his hunched shoulders as he snaked around the crowded RAD hallway to his next class. He sat through Devildom History with complete disinterest, only focusing on staring at the back of Mc’s head a few rows in front of him. He scribbled mindlessly in his notebook as he watched the subtle movements of her body: the way she massaged the ache in her neck, the slight lean forward when the professor said something interesting, the gentle glide of her hand when she wrote something down, and the barely-audible tap of her pen on the desk when she was idly listening.
It wasn’t the first time this week that she had preoccupied his thoughts, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last.
The dismissal from the professor meant their schedules aligned, and Simeon was hoping against all odds that Mc would agree to eat Lunch with him. After all, he had been isolated for so long, and this week had clearly been hellish for him...surely the compassionate MC would find it in her heart to accept his invitation. He stood outside the classroom, eager to confront her as she exited the room and walk with her to the dining hall.
“Is there something you need?” A deep voice from behind made the slight, hopeful smile on his lips turn into a disdained frown. He turned his head just enough to see Lucifer approaching suavely, picnic basket, wine, and blanket in his arms. Simeon’s heart sank, dejection making the pit in his stomach grow quickly in size. The dignity of a response was sucked out of him, and he merely stared at the classroom doorway to ignore Lucifer’s presence. Lucifer narrowed his eyes, peaking in the room to see Mc talking to professor alone.
“I was hoping to ask Mc about something.” Simeon murmured, now leaning his body against the frame.
“Oh?” Lucifer inquired in suspicion, moving to stand opposite of Simeon. His eyes were dripping with aggressive intent, thinking he had made his statement on leaving his lover alone clear to him. “And what, pray tell, might that be?”
Simeon scoffed, mumbling under his breath. “Hardly any of your damn business.”
Lucifer scowled, his voice venomous. “I beg your pardon?”
“I said I had to ask her about an assignment.” Simeon rolled his eyes, fighting back the shaking fists that threatened to form under Lucifer’s hard stare. “But it seems like she’s busy, so I’ll just-”
“Luci!” Mc cooed in delight, latching onto Lucifer’s arm and pulling him down to plant a kiss on his cheek.
Lucifer throws a satisfied smirk at Simeon before giving her a gentle hug in response. “Good afternoon, love. Ready to go?”
Mc nods excitedly, intertwining her fingers with his. Just as they’re about to walk away, she notices Simeon standing there watching. She freezes, anxiety welling up in her stomach at the sight of his clenched fists and flat-lined expression. “Simeon? What’s the matter..?”
“Nothing. I’ll just ask you about it later.” Simeon spat, unintentionally coming off to Mc as needlessly aggravated.
Mc looked between Simeon’s calloused expression and Lucifer’s watchful eyes, figuring they had just had a spat. She tried to smile, but the looming awkwardness betrayed her expression. “Okay, sure. I’ll see you later then.”
Simeon nodded, watching from his peripherals as Lucifer and Mc strolled happily away. He felt his chest tighten, the urge to do horrid things to Lucifer crawling up into his consciousness as Simeon imagined the unholy things the brutish demon would do with her. Part of him felt insulted that Mc would choose such a man over him. Another part of him was jealous of Lucifer being able to enjoy the sins of the flesh with such an astonishing person. And a final part of him was angry that he was even thinking about such things after his talk with Mc. Why couldn’t he just let it go?
Unfair. The word repeated itself in his mind. Fate truly has damned me to a life of pining for something that can never be.
Simeon turned, arms crossed over his chest as if to stabilize himself as he fought the blended emotions racing through his head. Hopelessness plagued each thought, the reality of his loneliness coming to fruition in front of his eyes. He began to wonder if any of the other demons had felt this intensity of dejection before.
“She hasn’t really been doing much...just going throughout classes like normal.” Raphael paused, trying to think if he remembered anything recent. “Simeon has been hovering around her a lot though.”
“How close has he been to her?” Michael asked curiously, now leaning forward in his chair. His interest in the human and Simeon’s relationship was piqued at the mere mention that they had rekindled a relationship.
Raphael rubbed his forehead with his hand. “Uhh, not very, I guess? I mean, with Lucifer on her hip it’s kind of hard for him to get close. He’s like a guard dog. Even me coming over under the innocuous guise of catching up with him was seen as a threat. She was on his lap the entire time we talked.”
“Depravity.” Michael grumbled under his breath, anger rising in his chest at the mere thought of someone he once called a close friend engaging in such a disgraceful way. “I am shocked at how this seductress of a human had seemingly somehow snatched every individual in the devildom by the balls.”
“Well, not everyone likes her.” Raphael noted, remembering hearing some demons wishing she had died a painful death as a result of a rumored assault. “It appears as though she means more than the world to the brothers though- and even the demon prince and his steward seem infatuated with her.”
“What are your thoughts?” Michael posed the question curiously, wondering if Raphael had unknowingly been drawn in by her feminine wiles. “I’d like to hear your impression of her.”
“Hmm...” Raphael shrugged. “I’m not too convinced she’s anything special. I’m curious of what has even angels drawn to her, if anything. But otherwise she doesn’t seem that appealing.”
“And what of Luke’s relationship to the human?”
Raphael paused. He swallowed hard, remembering how happy the small angel was to see the human. He talked about her so much when they were alone, you’d think the woman was his mother. “He seems to be- uh- somewhat fond of her.”
Michael gritted his teeth, anger rising steadily higher at the traces of uncertainty in his agent’s voice. “How much is somewhat, Raphael? I do hope you aren’t hiding anything from me.”
“He seems to enjoy her company, and talks highly of her...” Raphael paused upon hearing Michael’s heavy breath on the other end of the phone. “...but I doubt highly he values her over any fragment of the celestial realm- especially you, sir.”
Michael scoffed. “Clearly you underestimate the power this human holds. If Lucifer and Simeon can fall for her faux charm- so much so that their entire being surrounds her- then I believe she could harbor ill intent toward the Celestial realm.”
“I really don’t think-”
“I don’t know exactly what she is planning, but we will end it before it begins. First though, we need evidence- and that is your sole job I pay you to do. Is that clear?” Michael growled into the phone, not letting Raphael finish his thoughts.
After a pregnant pause, Raphael let out a sigh. “Crystal, sir.”
Simeon shot straight up in a cold sweat. The pitch-black room seemed to spin before him as he came down from the adrenaline of the nightmare that plagued his sleep. He could still hear the screams of Mc clear as day as they reverberated into the recesses of his mind. He ran a hand through his hair, scanning the room to get some semblance of grounding before standing and rushing to the bathroom.
The cool water that was splashed onto his face relieved the heat he felt under his skin, but did nothing to solve the fear pounding through his heart. The images flashing through his mind of angels in pristine armor torturing the poor woman nearly made him vomit in disgust. What’s worse, is that behind the scene was a very pleased Michael, along with a very frail and distressed Lucifer who was held firmly by Michael’s armed guards.
The prophetic powers had to have ceased when he fell from grace, right?
Simeon turned off the faucet, staring into his reflection. His breath was heavy as it forced its way passed his teeth in labor, only to be sucked back in with a desperation seen by those starved for air. His thoughts raced back through the dream, trying to recall anything that was said. But just as fragmented as it had appeared to him, the dream vanished into thin air- wisped away from his memory like fallen leaves in the wind.
“Simeon?”
He turned quickly, shocked to see Luke standing in his pajamas in the doorway to the bathroom. “Luke...”
He rubbed his eyes sleepily, looking at the former angel with concerned curiosity. “Is everything okay? I heard you yell from my room.”
Simeon turned his gaze away and his face drained, embarrassed to know his nightmares had caused a ruckus the third night his roommates had finally come to stay from their temporary retreat at the castle.
Luke grew more concerned the longer Simeon stayed silent. He paused, trying to think of what to do. Clearly he had had a bad dream, but just didn’t want to discuss it with him- or maybe he did, but didn’t know if he should.
Luke could relate to the awkwardness Simeon was feeling, as he felt it too. The urge he felt to be close to Simeon again was strong, and he longed to rekindle their friendship sooner than what had been asserted by Mc. He recalled their gentle embrace as he cried into their arms, begging her for some advice on how to approach the situation.
“Things like this need time to heal, Luke. You have to actually work thought the conflicting feelings rather than pushing them away...And you have to allow yourself to be vulnerable to the fact that this wont be the same as before, but that isn’t always bad.”
She said it with such confidence, part of him felt silly for ever thinking otherwise. He knew that he could still have a friendship with him as time went on, but he felt scared of what it would look like. He knew Mc was right- that different didn’t always mean scary...Perhaps he just needed to take the first steps.
“Do you want me to make you some tea? I can heat up some of the Devilberry popovers I made yesterday..?”
Simeon turned to him, blinking back his surprise at the offer. “Huh?”
“It’s not really any trouble. Plus, they’re really tasty. Barbatos said so himself!” Luke smiled nervously, hoping this offer would produce a start of healing- just like Mc had said.
Simeon mulled it over for a moment, before returning Luke’s offer with a warm smile. “I’d like nothing more.”
Note: Though I do have a masters degree in Psychology and clinical training in treating survivors of abuse, I am not your therapist, nor is this fic intended to take the place of professional help. If you are experiencing any type of abuse, please seek support from a professional. Utilize the Victim Connect Resource Center to get connected to the appropriate helpline.
Thunder rippled through the night sky, shaking the crystal windows of the Demon Lord’s castle. It had been centuries since the Devildom experienced a storm of this caliber, and the future king couldn’t help but worry about how his precious exchange students were faring. He paced around his office nervously, awaiting Barbatos’ report on whether or not Devildom should follow severe weather procedures.
Diavolo stopped in front of the large windows that overlooked the city and gazed out to the purple sky. Purgatory Hall stood like a beacon in the darkness, the light-colored brick standing out amongst the rest of the brooding architecture in Devildom. His mind wandered to you- wondering if you were alright.
Did thunderstorms scare them back in the human world? It wouldn’t come as a surprise. The ever timid of the three humans seemed to be afraid of their own shadow on most days- making adjusting to life amongst demons particularly hard.
Diavolo sighed, mindlessly tracing his finger on the glass. The condensation left a trail of water droplets along the glass. He hoped you were doing okay with the other exchange students. Simeon had earlier informed him of their intention to hold a small gathering in the lounge at Purgatory Hall, so he knew you must be there. Certainly it was closer than the House of Lamentation...If only he could just sneak out the doors and-
“My lord, If you continue touching the windows, they will streak.” Barbatos appeared in the doorway to his office suddenly, startling the prince. His voice held a firm warning, though Diavolo knew there was little Barbatos could do to him just for dirtying a window with his fingers.
Regardless, he stepped away and turned toward the butler. He put his hands in the pocket of his robe, fidgeting with the loose fabric fibers of the interior. He gave a fake smile that was easily readable, indicating he must be anxious about the weather and the foreign students. Barbatos sighed, his voice taking a softer tone upon recognizing the emotion in his eyes. “Sir, the weather is not severe enough to call for a lockdown, but it would still be unwise for any individual to be out in this type of weather. I suggest you stay here despite your concerns for the exchange students.”
Diavolo blushed lightly. He hated how easily Barbatos could read him sometimes. “Very well.”
As Barbatos turned to take his leave, Diavolo turned back toward the window. Another sigh began to pass his lips, but immediately halted upon seeing a familiar figure stumbling toward the castle, battling the wind and rain as they moved. Though the heavy rain obscured some of his vision, he was able to make out the details of your hair underneath the shall you wrapped tightly around yourself- which looked vaguely like the one Simeon was usually seen wearing.
He immediately turned from the window and bolted through the maze-like castle, blowing past Barbatos and numerous little D’s, who called out to him as he ran past. As he finally reached the main hall, he heard what sounded like the heavy doorknockers pounding against the thick wooden doors of the castle entrance. Diavolo felt his heart skip a beat as he rushed to the doors, flinging them open as quickly as he could.
He wasn’t sure what to expect when he finally laid eyes on your form before him. For some reason, he had been so excited to see you- despite the fact that you being out in this weather must not have meant any good news would likely follow. But all the excitement he had faded away when he was met with your petrified eyes. The terror worn on your face was evident, even through the effects of the wind and rain. He stood frozen before you, unsure of how to respond- and your lack of voice did not help matters.
“Young Master, what are you doing?!” Barbatos’ panicked voice manifested from down the hall as he finally caught up to him. Barbatos paused, seeing Diavolo holding the Castle doors ajar as rain whipped into the castle from outside. With a frustrated sigh, Barbatos approached, though the color drained from his face as he saw what- or rather, who- Diavolo had been gawking at.
Barbatos quickly led you inside, offering you to sit on one of the plush benches in the entry way while he fetched some towels. You obliged, but said nothing. Your body trembled with anxiety, adrenalin, and the freezing feeling of the frigid rainwater that had soaked your clothes on the agonizing walk over to the castle.
You had done something to upset your boyfriend. What you did, you had no idea- but the grip he held on your throat as he yelled in your face was enough to tell you you had crossed a line. The occurrence happened often enough that you often lost track of how many times he had put his hands on you in one way or another. You hugged yourself, trying desperately to stop the trembling you experienced in reliving the horrid scene over and over again.
Without hesitation, Diavolo removed his large plush robe and draped it around your shoulders. He would be slightly cold until he could replace the robe with one of his silk shirts, but your comfort was more important to him. You nuzzled into the soft fleece material, finally feeling the emotions from today well up and overflow out of your body. Tears began streaming down your cheeks as you choked back sobs, finally feeling safe enough to express the ache in your heart.
Diavolo widened his eyes, unsure again of how to respond. He tried to think of something to say, but words evaded him as you relentlessly sobbed into his robe. He slowly reached out a large hand, pressing it to your shoulder gently- as if to test your reaction to his touch. When you gave no response, he moved closer to you; eventually enveloping you into a tight embrace as you cried. Diavolo rubbed your back gently cradling you into his bare chest. He offered gentle words of reassurance that you were safe and secure in his arms.
When Barbatos finally re-entered the hall, he was shocked to see you clinging to diavolo. You had been so timid around everyone in Devildom since you got here, but especially the future king. Not that he blamed you for that though- Diavolo was a particularly large demon and was supposed to be intimidating to others. But now, seeing you drape yourself over him in such a vulnerable position had him wondering what led you to this in the first place.
Barbatos motioned for Diavolo to follow, and in one sweeping motion, you were hoisted into the prince’s arms. He wrapped your legs around his mid-section and encouraged you to hold on tightly to his neck as they lead you to a guest bedroom. Once you were set down on the bed, Barbatos noted that they didn’t have any fresh clothes for you, so he would need to dry your current clothes. He also noted that you should take a warm bath regardless to get your body temperature back up, while he would take to making you some calming tea and biscuits.
You tensed at the idea of needing to shed your clothes, but as Diavolo’s robe dampened around you, you knew he was right. Diavolo noted he would get you something to wear while your clothing was dried, but before he could move, you gripped his hand in yours and pulled delicately back.
He paused, seeing the terror-filled glint return to your eyes. “Mc- what do you need?”
You bit your lip for a moment and look down, your damp hair cascading in front of your face. Diavolo tucked some strands back, trying to look into your eyes to figure out what you must be trying to silently convey to him. It was in this moment that he noticed the deep purple bruises lining your neck just under your earlobes. His heart sank at the sight, feeling sorrow bubble up as he realized you had come here to escape something.
Did Lucifer or one of his brothers step out of line again? No- they wouldn’t dare hurt you after what had happened with Belphegor. Perhaps you were cornered by a lower demon? Oh, he absolutely would make them suffer a fate worse than death if they dared lay a hand on you.
A small squeak from your vocal cords caught his attention, and he shook the thoughts away for now as he fully concentrated on you.
“I just...I don’t want to be alone.” You whimper, catching his eyes.
Diavolo nodded, stroking your cheek gently with his hand. “Do you want me to- I mean, I don’t know if you would want me to per say- but shall I accompany you while you bathe? I can ensure to turn away as you undress and pour enough soap into the basin so you’re not as exposed.”
His nervousness betrayed him as he blabbered out the words, feeling them come out of his mouth like vomit. You took a moment to consider his offer, and gave a meek nod. You had been intimidated by him when you first came to Devildom, but as you got to know him and spent one-on-one time with him, you found yourself drawn to how...well... unking-like he was. He knew how to have fun, and was a really just a kid at heart. And his passion for building connections between the worlds was something you admired. He was kind, gentle, and caring- something you were desperate to have in your own relationship. Perhaps it was this longing that brought you to the steps of the castle, rather than back to the HOL with the brothers. You knew the brothers cared about you, but something about Diavolo’s aura always pulled you back in.
As promised, he turned away from you while you undressed and bathed. He sat cross-legged on the floor next to the basin as you relaxed in the warm bath. While he wasn’t trying to gawk at your nude body, he couldn’t help but notice the plethora of scars and bruises on the areas of your skin that was now exposed to air. He found himself connecting the fact that you always wore modest clothing to these scars and bruises- and he was worried about the fact that you did so as long as he had known you. With a deep breath, he finally decided to ask you about it.
He felt his heart pounding deafeningly in his ears as he asked the question. “Mc, may I ask you something?”
You met his stare, anxiousness rising in your chest at his inquiry. “Y-yeah...of course...”
He nodded, dropping his gaze away. “Those bruises...who gave them to you?”
You freeze, staring at him with wide eyes. You had told yourself you hoped he wouldn’t have noticed...but part of you knew that was a lie. You did want him to notice- to rescue you from the abuse you continued to suffer in Devildom- an experience that had persisted in the human world long before with the man you you found yourself entangled with. A deep sigh escaped your lungs as you readied yourself to tell Diavolo about what he had done to you- how cold and distant he always was, how he would manipulate you into thinking everything bad that happened in his life was your fault, how he would take his anger out on you by throttling you until you couldn’t breath, almost killing you numerous times in the same way Belphegor did all those months ago.
Diavolo was absolutely livid at hearing all the tortures you had gone through. He’d have been lying if he said he enjoyed your boyfriend’s company in the exchange program- he always felt something was off about him, and he did notice the ways he would talk down to you a bit in the past, but he never would have guessed it could have been as bad as this. He gripped your soapy hand, and made a promise to you- that you would never have to see that scum again. He would be removed from the program immediately, and you would live the rest of your time in Devildom in relative peace.
As he helped you out of the bath and dried you off, Barbatos came with a smaller dry robe- one that wouldn't completely swallow you in its size. He gifted you your tea and biscuits, and assisted you into bed. Before Diavolo snuck under the covers next to you, he pulled Barbatos aside and whispered to him a command- one that would ensure your continued safety- even after you were no longer in Devildom.
As he opened his eyes, the man’s vision needed to adjust to the dark, dank room he was in. He was barely able to make out the dirty brick walls lining the tiny cell he found himself in- the scuttling of demonic rats able to be heard echoing throughout the chambers underneath the castle. He pushed himself up off the floor, teetering as he got to his feet. Had he gotten drunk? did he get knocked out? he couldn’t quite recall.
The distant roar of thunder could be heard in the distance. He had remembered it had be pouring rain- that’s right! He vaguely remembered you running out on him after you had insulted his cooking in front of the angels. The audacity Simeon had in saying no one’s cooking compared to that of Barbatos- and the way you chuckled along with the statement had his blood boiling as if he was in the same situation again.
He wanted to teach you a lesson- one that he had to reiterate over and over again. He was your everything, and you were nothing. To insult him, over step your bounds, or to diminish him in any way was ignoring all he had done for you, and it could not go without reminding. He was much stronger than you, after all. It was pretty easy to put you back in line- thought you were straying a lot more since getting teleported to this shitty world.
The man wrinkled his nose, finally absorbing the scent of mildew in the cellars. The last thing he remembered was being called for a meeting at the demon lord’s castle, but after that his mind was a blur. He remembered having to bear this atrocious weather in order to get here- not understanding why that stupid prince always put people out of their way for his every need. What he wouldn’t give to have that much power...
The sound of a door creaking open and slamming nearby stirred him from his thoughts. He approached what he believed was the cell door, peaking through the small barred window to try to see who- or what- had entered and was now coming toward him. A dim light and some muffled voices could be heard in the distance.
The footfalls could be heard faltering as they approached the cell door. He leaned back, eager for the door to be opened so he could get answers to his questions. A pair of ruby eyes met his through the window on the cell door, and a glint of...something...passed through them. He couldn’t quite tell their intentions, but they looked angry.
The door swung open and the candle illuminated the figure before him. The man scoffed, crossing his arms as he was met with the silhouette of the eldest brother of sin. He beckoned him to exit the cell, but he stood his ground. Of course it had to be this clown.
After a moment of silent stares between the three men, he finally spoke, irritated with the lack of explanation for his current situation.
“So, are you gonna tell me what the hell I’m-”
“Silence.” A deep voice hissed from behind Lucifer. The man snapped his mouth shut, fear suddenly coursing through him as he was met with another pair of eyes. The yellow light of the candle illuminated the golden irises, as well as the gold jewelry adorning the prince’s chest and horns. As he stepped further into the light, the man could see his sharp fangs, piercing white- as if he had just gotten them professionally polished.
The man cleared his throat, attempting to swallow back his fear and the clearly perturbed prince and his henchmen. “W-what do you want from-”
In a flash, Diavolo had the puny human by the neck, slamming him so hard against the brick wall that- not only did his skull crack but the brick behind his head crumbled upon the impact, dust flaring around the room.
“I said, silence.” He hissed again, squeezing his neck harder. The man choked and sputtered as he fought for air, the tips of his shoes desperate to make contact with the ground.
Diavolo scoffed at the human’s refusal to remain quiet as he waited for a status report from Barbatos. While the human was unconscious, Barbatos had taken to interviewing the rest of the brothers, the angels, and Solomon about what they had noticed. He shook his head, figuring the formalities could be forgone just this once.
“You have a lot of nerve, abusing someone you shallowly claim to love.” He snarled through gritted teeth. “Tell me, how long did you think it would be before we caught on?”
Diavolo released his grip slightly on the mans neck, allowing air to enter his lungs. He coughed as he spoke lies through his teeth. “I- I don’t know what y-you’re talking a-about.”
Lucifer let out an unamused scoff. “It appears as if he thinks we’re stupid.”
Diavolo shook his head, his eyes piercing as he stared daggers at the man. “You can deny what you want, but the bruises all over their body tell all.”
The mans eyes widened, realizing that you had fled to the castle that night- probably blabbering to Diavolo what he had done. He cursed under his breath, trying to get the demon lord to relinquish his grasp.
Diavolo smirked, finding it amusing how the small human thought he could just get away with his atrocious actions. He changed his hand’s positions onto the mans hair, dragging him out of the cell as he screamed out in pain. Lucifer looked down on him as he paced behind Diavolo, disgusted with the words he was using to berate the future king. For now, he would restrain himself- but he couldn’t help the evil grin that spread across his lips for the fate this disgusting human would encounter for having ever dared laid hands on a member of his- and through association, Diavolo’s- family.
The man was thrown onto the floor of a larger cell, tears flooding from his eyes as he rubbed the spot where the hair follicles threatened to detach from his head. Before he could process what was happening, the double doors were slammed and he faced the two demons before him. Lucifer stood in the background, seemingly just granting audience to what Diavolo was about to do.
“Now, I will ask you again- Did you really think you could get away with hurting one which I hole dear?” Diavolo smiled, but behind it his eyes shown intense wrath.
The man scoffed, deciding to double down. “I told ya, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
At his refusal to take accountability, Diavolo’s wicked smile turned into a displeased frown. He nodded, walking towards the man with intent. He cracked his knuckles as he moved toward him, and with each approaching step, the man scrambled backwards until he hit the wall. On his attempt to stand, Diavolo hook-kicked his knee, sending the bones cascading through his skin in an instant.
The man howled in pain as he fell to the floor. He tried to coddle his wound, but only screeched louder as the pain increased with his touch.
Diavolo tutted, kneeling before him. “I will give you once more chance to tell the truth, and perhaps I will let you leave peacefully...As long as you promise never to set foot near them again.”
The man glowered at the future king, and boldly decided to spit on his face.
Lucifer snarled, his demon form unfurling as he stepped forward. After wiping the loogie from his cheek with his thumb, he held up a hand to stop Lucifer.
“Hmm. Looks like you’ve dug your grave then.” Diavolo snickered, standing and walking away, soon enough standing side-by-side with Lucifer. The two shared a look before turning back to the human with nefarious smiles, causing his heart to leap into his throat.
“Wh-what are you going to do to me?” He stuttered through ragged breaths, trying to appear more confident than he felt. His pulse quickened as a groaning could be heard in the walls around him, the two demon’s smiles growing wider.
“Well,” Diavolo chuckled darkly, crossing his arms over his chest. “I believe it’s almost Henry’s Dinnertime.”
The man gulped. “H-H-Henry?”
Lucifer turned and opened one of the double doors, motioning for Diavolo to follow, but he shook his head. “You go on- check on Mc and inform Barbatos of my decision. I’d like to stay a moment longer with our former exchange student.” Lucifer looked uncertain, but closed the door silently. His footsteps could be heard in the distance followed by a door opening and closing.
Diavolo turned back toward the human before him. It was hard for him to imagine such a spineless bastard having this much power over you, but he knew that his perspective was different. After all, the human was shown just how powerless he actually was in the face of a demon- the second most powerful to ever even exist.
“It’s a shame, really.” Diavolo mused, tinkering with the friendship bracelet you had made him during the last retreat at the castle. He hadn't taken it off in the months had passed, cherishing the sweet gesture with all of his heart. “I wanted so desperately for us to all have peace. But I am unfortunately reminded how humans can sometimes truly be the scum of the three realms.”
He turned to meet the man’s terrified eyes, relishing in the fact that he got to see him so scared before his ultimate demise. “The humans like you- they deserve to rot. Which is why their souls come here. After your death though- since you already are here- you will just awaken in the mouth of the basilisk again, and be eaten again- over and over. What a truly awful demise, hmm?”
The man gulped upon hearing another groan from the walls of the cell; fear rippling through him so fast that he lost control of his bladder. Diavolo shook his head, a hearty laugh rippling through the chamber as the man pissed himself in fear.
“Do you still feel powerful?” Diavolo growled, leaning into his face as he spoke. “How does it feel to be treated as if you have no more worth than canine feces below a boot?”
Tears welled in the mans eyes as two giant yellow eyes appeared behind the prince, followed by a deep hiss. He begged, pleaded for Diavolo to release him, making promise after promise, and even confessing to the attrocities of what he had done to you.
Diavolo merely shook his head in response. “Tsk. You had a chance to beg for mercy, but truth be told, I never planned on offering a shred of it to you. Perhaps that makes us both liars.”
With the last words that left his lips, Diavolo grinned and spun on his heel. He approached the giant snake. It swayed back and forth, it’s eyes following the prince’s movements, as if waiting for permission to feed. With one last glance at the former exchange student, he whistled.
The snake’s movements were so quick that the man barely had time to react. One moment, he was shaking on the floor in a pool of his own urine, and the next he had large fangs digging into his flesh. He screamed to no avail, begging for help from someone- anyone- who could hear. But no one would come to help him. His body would be consumed, only to be reincarnated in the dungeon where he had died. The basilisk with the insatiable hunger would consume him again....and again...and again...for however long he decided to keep his deal with the reaper girl going. 13 would truly be a wonderful asset to the exchange program to replace the terrible human.
He eagerly paced up the stairs back to the main part of the castle. He had left you slumbering peacefully in the guest room, where he was eager to return to snuggle with you throughout the rest of the early morning hours. Thunder roared and lighting crashed outside the windows providing him an odd sense of calm despite the raging weather. You were safe now, and he was excited to see how you would flourish without the threat of abuse looming over your head like a dark cloud. Perhaps the thunderstorm was a blessing in disguise, as it had offered you sanctuary from the real storm you faced in the shadows.
Part 5 of the Fortification Series (based on this request)
Genre: hurt/comfort, angst, some fluff
Written for a GN!MC, though the partner is written as male.
WC: ~3.9k
TRIGGER WARNING: Each part contains graphic depictions of various types of abuse, please see specific content warnings for each individual part.
CW: extreme physical abuse, allusion to emotional abuse, light stalking, sexual harassment, torture, mutilation/body horror graphic violence and gore
Be warned, this one has a lot of vivid body horror and torture. I imagine Solomon being as sadistic as Jigsaw in his way of enacting revenge.
Series Masterlist
Note: Though I do have a masters degree in Psychology and clinical training in treating survivors of abuse, I am not your therapist, nor is this fic intended to take the place of professional help. If you are experiencing any type of abuse, please seek support from a professional. Utilize the Victim Connect Resource Center to get connected to the appropriate helpline.
You duck just in time for a glass to explode against the wall inches away from your head. Your heartbeat pounded deafeningly loud in your ears as you tried to focus on your breathing.
What had you done this time?
You had no idea.
Another night spent with your horrid boyfriend always meant walking on eggshells because of how volatile he is, but you hoped that maybe tonight would be different.
Oh, how wrong you were.
If your boyfriend was a bit more subtle with his anger, perhaps it would have gone completely unnoticed by others around you. But since coming to Devildom and building connections with the demons you lived with, as well as the exchange students and royals, it didn’t take long for them to catch on. The first to notice things were not quite right in your relationship was Solomon. Being the only other human besides the two of you, he was always around. That, and his room shared a wall with your boyfriend’s room, so it’s not like he couldn’t overhear the yelling and physical violence that would happen to you within.
After hearing the glass break against the wall, he was immediately listening in to the conversation...well, if you could even call it a conversation. It was all one-sided yelling, as usual. Occasionally he would hear your mousey voice give a response, but it wouldn’t be long before it was drowned out with more yelling, or the sound of his hand slapping you across the face.
Solomon wished he could intervene; perhaps he could have if his first attempt didnt go so poorly. He regretted trying to talk to your boyfriend the first time he saw the bruise on your cheek from one of his brutal backhands, but the only result that occurred from that confrontation was your boyfriend telling him to fuck off, and then finding that he had hurt you worse the next time he saw you. He was at a loss, really. And it’s not like he could spend any time with you when you visited Purgatory Hall, as the man kept you confined to the small bedroom and refused to let you interact with any of the other dorm residents. He had even been getting you to isolate from the brothers, who were now fully aware of what was going on after Solomon expressed his concerns to Lucifer a few weeks prior. Lucifer asked him to gather as much evidence as he could, and to keep a thorough documentation on what happened within Purgatory hall, as the man was not ballsy enough to inflict any harm on you if Lucifer was near.
Maybe your boyfriend had caught wind of his report...because tonight was the worst abuse he had heard yet. multiple glass items were heard shattering against the wall, in the midst of his intense yelling and berating of you. Your voice was comparatively so small. He wondered how much it would take to get you to leave the man. Was there anything he could really do? He hated just sitting around and documenting the violence, but Solomon wasn’t really sure what else could be done. Lucifer and his brothers, as well as the angels, all were just as concerned, but stuck in a similar position. In order for the exchange program to be respected by the 3 worlds, certain rules had to be upheld...as shitty as those rules were. Maybe Diavolo could give an exception...
A sudden loud bang against the wall followed by your calls for help stirred him from his thoughts. He panicked, and was on his feet in an instant. He completely pushed all thoughts of formalities away after the man’s sudden threat against your life. If they continued to ignore this any more, you would surely be killed.
“Mc?! Mc, are you alright?” Solomon hollered through the door, trying desperately to listen over your boyfriend’s yelling. After trying the knob and finding the door locked, he gave a threat to catch your boyfriend’s attention. “I’m calling Lucifer!”
The door swung open and Solomon was met with the irate face of the man who dared call himself your significant other. His chest heaved as he stared the sorcerer down, trying to look imposing. If it wasn’t Solomon, perhaps this technique would have worked. But he had been alive for a very long time now, and he was probably one of- if not the- most powerful humans alive. Most threats meant nothing to him.
But apparently this was information the man had yet to learn.
“The fuck do you want?” He snarled, fingers gripped tightly around the door frame to show he would not be moved.
“Are you kidding right now?” Solomon snapped, taking a step forward. “What I want is for you to leave Mc alone.”
The man scoffed, turning to glance back at your frail body. Through the gap between his forearm and abdomen, Solomon could just see you slumped against the wall, clutching your right arm with blood trickling down the side of your face. The sight of you was cut off quickly as the man before him moved to block you from his view.
“Our relationship is none of your business, old man.” He snickered. He really thought nothing of Solomon’s intervention other than he could sick the eldest brother on him, but he intended to flee before that could happen.
“You made it my business when you decided to lay hands on them” Solomon retorted. While his outward demeanor was calm, his brain was going haywire. Panic was spreading through him as quickly as a barn fire, and he was desperate to find a way to get you away from him.
“Tch.” The man gritted his teeth and attempted to slam the door in Solomon’s face.
As if acting on autopilot, Solomon rammed his body against the door as hard as he could, sending the man toppling backwards over himself.
“Mc, come on. Now!” Solomon called, pinning your boyfriend’s legs behind the door and extending his hand out to you.
You stumbled toward him as fast as you could, just managing to avoid your boyfriend’s grasp as he finally was able to get to his feet. Before you could even register what was happening, Solomon grabbed your hand firmly and pulled you along as you fled Purgatory Hall.
Your boyfriend’s screaming threats of killing you could be heard from behind as you ran blindly, trusting Solomon to lead you somewhere safe as the adrenaline fueled your movements. Some lower demons looked on in confusion as Solomon tore through the streets of Devildom with you in tow close behind. After a while, the man’s voice faded away and you were lost in a sea of demons. However, a wrong step resulted in a twisted ankle, you finally came to a rest in an alley a few blocks away from the House of Lamentation.
Solomon helped you to the ground, checking over your foot carefully before turning his attention to other injuries you may have accrued from the man’s abuse. As he trailed his fingers over the long gash on the side of your head, the adrenaline finally began to wear off, and you felt not only the overwhelming pain of your injuries, but the emotional turmoil and fear creeping into your core.
Solomon was slightly taken aback as you began to weep, unsure of how to approach the deep sorrow you were releasing. He hadn’t been this emotionally invested in another person in a long time, and he was afraid of doing or saying something to hurt you unintentionally.
He rested one of his hands gently on your forearm, rubbing his thumb over the skin gently. Slowly, he gathered you in his arms, providing soft words of reassurance that you were now safe, and that he was going to ensure to get you help. He let you cry for a short while before lifting you into his arms bridal-style, and carrying you the rest of the way to the brothers.
Once at the house, you were immediately swarmed by multiple concerned faces. The brothers each demanded to know what happened, and it took Lucifer’s intense intervention to finally get them to give you some space so he could assess the situation.
Solomon tended gently to your wounds, being careful not to produce any more hurt than was necessary. As he mended you, he hummed a soft tune to ease your woe. Your crying slowed as he sang, to you, creating a warm aura in the small office you, he, and Lucifer sat in. It wasn’t long before your eyes began to droop, the energy it took to escape and even tolerate the abuse, plus processing it afterwards finally catching up to you. Solomon rested your head on his lap, gently stroking your hair as you slowly drifted off to sleep. He was glad the healing spells he used on you sapped enough of the remaining energy you had so that you could even get some much-needed rest.
As you lay on the couch in peace, Solomon and Lucifer contacted Diavolo. Something had to be done immediately to ensure your safety, and the slow-moving bureaucracy of the law couldn’t be counted on anymore.
Solomon watched on from the distance as your ex-boyfriend exited the back of the bar. He had followed him like a shadow since he had been barred from returning to Devildom due to the danger he posed to you, and Diavolo even went as far as to wipe his memory of Devildom completely...which means even if he recognized Solomon’s face in a weird Deja-vu sort of way, he would have no knowledge of who he truly was.
Solomon pretended to be a regular at the bar he worked at, keeping close watch on him as he flirted with customers and harassed at the waitresses who worked along side him. He was truly the king of all bastard men, and Solomon had to restrain himself from mauling him the first time he laid eyes on him in the human world after all that had happened.
Breathe, Solomon. His demise will come in due time.
Weeks had passed before he finally got the go ahead from Diavolo to inflict his “punishment,” begging the prince to let him be the one to inflict it over one of the brothers. It took a lot of convincing, but he managed to lay out a firm plan to all of them that would surely result in the most torturous death imaginable. And as the man propped his body against the back dumpster and lit a cigarette between his fingers, Solomon decided that it was the perfect time to act.
He pulled out his grimoire and flipped to his bookmarked page. After a few whispered incantations, a crimson light emitted from the ground where the man was standing. The man cocked his head in confusion, not feeling entirely sure what to make of what he was looking at. But after a moment, he realized that he couldn’t move outside of the magic circle.
Solomon snapped the book shut and approached him from across the street. The man eyed him suspiciously, confused as to what was happening to him. When he tried to speak, no sound came from his mouth. Solomon stopped only millimeters from the edge of the circle, staring at the man with cold, cruel eyes. The man appeared to be trying to shout at the sorcerer, and Solomon smirked at his attempts at verbal aggression.
He lifted his hand, and a phantom appendage matching his movements slowly crept up from the ground. Solomon whispered a few more words as he raised his other hand, another matching phantom limb appearing as he moved. The man glared at the actions in confusion until Solomon pulled out a spool of thread and a long, sharp needle, tossing it to the hands who now began to operate outside of the sorcerer’s movements.
He sat back and watched as the mans eyes widened in fear. More phantom hands leaped up from the ground and held the man still as they came at him with the materials given by Solomon. The man tried to scream, but like before, no noise came out as one of the hands pierced the needle through his top lip. The hands worked in sync, sewing the entirety of the man’s mouth shut in only a few moments. Blood dripped from his lips and spattered onto the ground, only to be absorbed the the circle. The more blood fed the magic, the more intense the light from the circle became.
Solomon paced around the alley, watching as the limbs slowly disappeared back into the ground. The man sobbed in pain, trying as hard as he could to break free of his small cage. Solomon paused his pacing, turning to look back at the man who now looked desperately terrified at what ever Solomon’s next move happened to be. He gave him a cold smile, and began another incantation.
“Create a path where there is none.”
Within moments, the ground below the man split open and he fell through the ground. He fell through the ceiling of a basement and collapsed onto a dusty cement floor, groaning at the impact and becoming surprised at the fact that he could again make sound. Forgetting that his lips were sewn shut, the man tried to scream, only to illicit a shooting pain through his face. He wailed, clawing at the threads in his face.
Solomon followed suit through his own portal and came to a halt in front of the man. He tried to stand up and throw a punch at Solomon, but his fist was easily caught by one of the phantom limbs from before. Multiple circles lined the walls and floors of the room, and one by one they all began to glow. Solomon’s lips slowly upturned into a nefarious smile, causing a new wave of fear to wash over the man.
“I believe it’s time you received your retribution.” Solomon hissed as he rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. He yanked the man down by the collar of his jacket, forcing him on his hands and knees.
The man tried to move to get a swing in, but the phantom hands piled onto his back, rendering him immobile. Solomon muttered a quick incantation and stepped back, watching curiously as the ground began to tremble and groan beneath them. The man began to shake, fearing what was to come.
Then there was silence.
All that could be heard was the man’s labored breaths, and the gentle tap of Solomon’s foot on the ground, seemingly in morse code. Suddenly, the man began to screech, the pain caused by the binds on his lips numbing to the new pain searing his hands and running up his forearms. The ground continued to grow hotter and hotter until the skin of his hands began to melt into the concrete. The ground bubbled and popped around his hand, fusing the piping hot concrete with his body. It wasn’t long before the skin became a puddled mess, the exposed muscle and bone of the man’s hand peaking through the remaining thin layer of skin.
Solomon snapped his fingers, and the temperature of the ground immediately shifted. The skin that had melted off the mans hand hardened once more, creating a hybrid appendage. He tried to yank his hands out of the firm, fleshy mass, but was only greeted with pain as the skin only gave way slightly. The threads in the mans face had begun to snap, creating just barely enough room for his screams to manifest. Though, the pain caused by the continuously forced opening against the binds only became more insufferable.
Solomon kneeled down to the man so he was eye level with him. He gripped his chin and lifted his head to meet him. He tutted as he gave him a once over, becoming displeased with the way he was ruining the threads through his lips.
“Have you figured out what’s next, or are you still uncertain as to what this is about?” He mused, eager to continue the torture as he toyed with his emotions.
“nnnn....pll...plea-ease.” The man managed to garble out, wincing at the pain caused by opening his mouth to speak.
“Hm. Well then, allow me to elaborate.” Solomon dropped the mans head lifting himself back up and approaching a small table in the back of the room. the soft clinking of glass on metal could be heard as he spoke.
“You see, Your relationship with Mc was no more healthy than wading in a pool of sewage.” He lifted a clamp, eyeing it’s width before resting it on his belt loop. “Your constant berating of them, followed by threats that eventually would result in physical violence was...sickening, to say the least. But somehow, you got a weird sense of pleasure from it.”
The man stared at him, confused as to what he was talking about. How did he even know about his relationship with you? Is he why he hadn’t been able to get ahold of you in two weeks?
Solomon continued. “You managed to dull their senses with the trauma you inflicted. All they speak of are the things they feel they have done wrong, and expelconstant insecurity and fear that you have put into their head. So I have taken the liberty of closing the trap that gave them those thoughts in the first place.”
The man gulped, tasting blood in his mouth.
“Now, as for your hands.” He tilted his head back, smiling coldly as he continued crushing some items with a mortar and pestle. “they have struggled to desire to be touched by anyone at all after all the pain you inflicted with them. You gave them nothing but pain with your touch, So I figured I would remove the ability to touch anything ever again from you.”
The man began to cry, begging through blubbered sobs for Solomon to let him go. The man tried again to pull his hands free from the fleshy prison, but was unable to before Solomon turned to face him, a small, cupped piece of paper resting delicately in his palm. It was filled with black and green particles.
Solomon crouched down before him. “Now which sense do you suppose is next, hmm?”
the man’s eyes grew wide with intense fear as he began to desperately struggle, screaming as loud as he could against the threads in his mouth. Solomon caught his chin in his hand and forced his head backwards. Despite his struggling, the man was no match for the sorcerer. He emptied the contents of the paper into the man’s nose, pinching the nostrils closed with the clamp.
The man began sputtering between screams, intense coughs causing the threads to completely burst open, sending new waves of pain coursing through his body. Though, he couldn’t quite stop to try to sooth the pain, as the burning fire in his lungs only increased, the coughs growing deeper and deeper until blood began expelling from his trachea.
Solomon chuckled, standing back up to admire his work. “Tetrodotoxin and Ricin. Two toxins that will cause death within a few hours.”
The man continued hacking, more blood and black, tar-like liquid leaking out of his mouth. Solomon released the clamp, his nose immediately leaking blood at it’s release. The man could no longer smell anything but iron.
“So this one many be a stretch, but I’m sure anyone forced to put their mouth on yours has smelled that atrociously must-filled breath of yours.” Solomon shrugged. “Or maybe I was looking for an excuse to try that concoction out. Regardless, you still deserve it.”
“P-p-please!” The man tried to speak though a slew of hacking and coughs. “ ’m s-sorry.”
Solomon scoffed. “No you’re not.”
He turned back toward the table, grabbing a small paring knife and holding it up to the dim light overhead.
“But you will be.”
Solomon motioned for the phantom limps to hold the mans head still as he made quick work of his eyes. He was extra cautious with this part of the body, wanting to make sure to keep them in tact to use for future experiments. The man screamed out as loud as he could, trying to move out of the hands as he severed the nerves, but Solomon ensured the spell for the hands was strong enough that no movement could get past them once their grips were solidified.
Once the eyes were completely removed, Solomon gave them each a once over. The man sobbed, begging for Solomon to spare him. Solomon let out a “tsk” before putting his eyes into a jar, sealing them off from the dusty air.
“This one should be obvious.” He remarked, turning back to the man and crossing his arms. “You don’t deserve to observe the beauty of the world after all you’ve done to make their perception of it so bleak.”
Solomon paced around the room, his eyes glued to the shell of a man before him. “I had a lot of trouble with this last one, though I am quite impressed with what I came up with.”
The man whimpered in terror, unsure how this torture could get any worse. Because he could no longer see, he was unable to observe Solomon preparing his final attack. He jerked the mans head to the side and poured hot, cursed, wax into the mans right ear. He sobbed at the scalding burns that began lining his ear canal.
Before doing the left, Solomon leaned down to his left ear. “This one is for the the fact that all your actions put them on edge, causing them to flinch at just the hint of a raised voice or a loudly shut door. If their sensitivity to sound is this severe, I don’t see why you need the function at all.”
With the last words he poured the hot wax into his other ear. The man sobbed as his ability to hear was suddenly gone. the deathly silence that followed was almost worse that hearing Solomon’s footsteps around him. He couldn’t sense where his presence was at all, his senses completely stifled by the various rounds of torture.
Solomon took one last look at the man before opening a portal back to Devildom. He smiled as the mans body beginning to convulse, knowing death would come to him rather soon. With his bag of materials in tow, he returned back to Purgatory Hall to rest from the weeks of planning. He couldn’t wait to see you again, and know that you could rest easy without this man in any of the realms to cause you more pain.
Maybe he wasn’t so good at emotional support, but if he could keep you safe in other ways, he would go to the ends of the earth for you.
