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May I request a small drabble for mammon comforting reader who's still scared and upset about the happenings of chapter 16? I can't imagine that anyone would be able to get over that as quickly as mc in the story seemed to.
Hi anon! Sorry it took so long to get to your request! I can certainly do this (:
WC: ~600 | written for a gn!mc (you/yours) | Genre: hurt/comfort | CW: spoilers for lessons 16+, anxiety, intrusive memories, PTSD, swearing
“Oi, Mc! Open up!”
Mammon knocked repetitively against the door, finding it odd that you had locked yourself away. Usually, your room was more fitting of an open-door policy with the way he and his brothers often barged in on you- and typically, you were more than happy to receive them. Since Belphegor’s attack on you though, Mammon began to notice you withdrawing more and more from the family- especially with Belphegor’s pleading for you to help him fit back in.
He paused his knocks, leaning into the door to listen. He heard some shuffling movement and the sound of uneven breath, but not much else. Deciding that he was going to come in one way or another, he decided to put the new lock-picking spell he learned a few weeks ago to the test. Effortlessly, the door slammed open, clearly surprising you as you jolted up from bed.
“Mc, what the heck’s the matter with you!?” Mammon scolded as he tried to calm the door’s erratic movement. “I ain’t seen ya all day and ya promised we’d-”
The sound of a stifled sniffle caught his attention and he whipped around to look at you. His heart sinks, having now seen your clearly distressed state. The sight of your puffy face- nose raw from rubbing and eyes blotchy from tears- was enough to bring the urge to cry up within him. Mammon’s expression softens as he approaches you, sitting down slowly on the edge of your bed and placing a hand delicately on your calf.
“Hey...Whatcha cryin’ for, huh?” He attempts to coo to you, but the phrasing of his words still come across a bit calloused.
“N-nothing.” You rub your arm across your nose again, wincing slightly at the pain you felt at once again rubbing the tender flesh. “Don’t worry about me.”
Mammon scowls, squeezing your leg gently. “I ain’t goin’ nowhere ‘til you tell me what’s eatin’ ya.”
You sigh, finally residing to telling Mammon about how hurt you were by Belphegor’s actions all those weeks ago, in tandem with everyone moving past it so quickly. The continuous fear you expressed to having gone through daily since the incident was somewhat surprising to him, as you always presented yourself so calmly. He wondered if maybe he should have paid closer attention to you- to pick up on these things sooner. After all, it’s not like he’d moved on much from that night either- his unconscious slumber still haunted by the life leaving your eyes and Belphegor’s sickening laughter before he’d awake in a cold sweat.
“‘s okay Mc.” Mammon embraces you, letting you cry into the crook of his neck. “It totally makes sense why ya haven’t been able to let go of that.”
“I just feel like an asshole.” You sniffle. “I said I forgave him, but I don’t know if I actually do.”
“Aye, you ain’t no asshole.” Mammon remarks, wiping a tear from your cheek with his thumb. “My brothers are assholes. But not you. You’re the sweetest thing to ever live in Devildom, ya here? I won’t here none of this bad talk about yourself.”
You chuckle, but the small smile falls again into a frown. Leaning your head on his shoulder, you let him caress you as you listen to the sound of his heartbeat. Mammon’s hand rubs soothing circles around your back, easing the ache in your chest when you thought about leaving the sanctity of your room.
With Mammon at your side, things no longer seemed so scary.
Crush anon back! congrats on the 1k, you really deserve it!! \o/ for the prompts, could i request Lucifer + naked fluff please?
N 》 Naked
to be exposed, bare, unprotected, or vulnerable.
Fandom: Obey me!
Genre: Fluff, Drabble
Written for GN!Mc (you/yours)
WC: ~450
CW: Sickness, some mentions of nausea but no vomit, nudity, bathing w/ Lucifer
“Mc, darling?”
You are just barely able open your eyes, the phlegm crusting over from your heavy sleep. The potion gifted to you from Solomon had been way stronger than Nyquil or Melatonin, but you figured just sleeping the sickness away was better than worrying any of the brothers about your condition. You weren’t really all that sure when exactly you had fallen asleep, or how long you had slept for, but the concern in Lucifer’s voice told you it may have been a bit too long.
You groaned in response, turning over to face him. His bare fingers dusted against your forehead. Feeling how hot you were, he tutted, turning toward the tray he had brought with him to your room.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?” Lucifer cooed, bringing a chilled cup of water to your lips.
You delicately rested your hand on his as you gulped down the water, not realizing how dehydrated you were until the cool liquid fell past your lips.
He sighed at your lack of response, but set the empty cup back on the tray. “Come. Lets get your body temperature back down. You have a nasty fever, love.”
You nod, but your body feeling so heavy when you attempted to get up. A wave of nausea hit you as you lifted your head, and you let it flop back down on the pillow to prevent bile from racing up from your stomach. A soft groan passed your lips, catching Lucifer’s attention. He turned back to you, worried by your stillness despite the strain in your muscles telling him you were trying your hardest to get out of bed. Without questioning you further, he gathered you in his arms carefully. His movements were calculated as he carried you effortlessly to the bathroom adjacent to your room.
You watched from the vanity bench as he ran a hot bath with a minty-smelling tonic poured in as the basin filled. He helped peel the sweat-soaked clothing off of you, not missing how your body shivered despite the steaming heat fogging the bathroom mirrors. After ridding himself of his own clothes, he helped you into the bath, and positioned your body so you could relax against his chest.
You sigh contently, feeling your muscles release the tension they had been holding. The lids of your eyes droop once more as you drift to sleep against Lucifer’s body, the feather-light dusting of his fingers tracing figure eights along your upper back lulling you to a peaceful slumber.
Lucifer watches as your body begins breathing rhythmically, cherishing the trust you had in him to be in such a defenseless state amongst one of the strongest demons alive.
Nullify
{ft. Satan}
Part 6 of the Fortification Series (based on this request)
Genre: hurt/comfort, angst, some fluff
Written for a GN!MC (you/yours, they/them), though the partner is written as male.
WC: ~3.4k
TRIGGER WARNING: Each part contains graphic depictions of various types of abuse, please see specific content warnings for each individual part.
CW: emotional abuse, verbal abuse, yelling, manipulation, sexual coercion, cheating, gaslighting, light skin-picking, swearing, physical abuse, negative self-talk, graphic violence and gore, torture, urination
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.
Satan tapped his foot impatiently as he waited for you in the RAD library. He was tucked away in his usual corner, trying desperately to focus on the book in his hand. Usual something you suggested to him would keep his attention, but right now, all he could focus on was what had been keeping you for so long.
The study session he set up was supposed to have begun nearly an hour ago, though Satan knew it was typical for you to be late. At first, he was very insulted by the behavior, thinking that any time set aside for you should be cherished. His time was valuable, after all...even if the only thing he would be doing was reading in the library anyways. Over time though, he grew accustomed to the fact that you would typically be between ten and twenty minutes late to everything, and adjusted the way he set up your study sessions.
However, as the clock approached the 55 minute mark without so much as a text message to indicate your whereabouts, he began to grow concerned.
Satan stood and paced around the nearby shelves. One by one his thoughts flew by, the content of which becoming darker and more terrifying with each passing moment.
Did they just so happen to forget about today? It was every week at the same time, so I doubt that. Maybe one of my brothers carted them off somewhere...or did one of my brothers leave them by themselves? Maybe another demon showed up and cornered them...What if they’re hurt somewhere and need help??
Just as he was packing his bag to leave and find you, one of the large doors to the library creaked open in the distance. Satan snapped his attention to the direction of the sound of the door shutting hard against the thick wooden frame. Familiar footsteps approached quickly from the distance. Soon enough, you rounded the corner, panting hard with sweat beads sparkling on your brow.
“H-hey. I’m so, so sorry I’m late!” you managed to stutter out the words while trying to regain control over your breaths. Satan sighed in response, the action coming off as annoyance to you, when in reality it was a deep breath of relief that you were okay. You gulped, hoping you hadn’t annoyed him too much with your tardiness. “I un-understand if you don’t want to tutor me today because of me being late.”
Satan glanced up at you, giving you a half smile. “Its no trouble- we will just have to have a shorter session today. Though I must ask- what kept you, Mc?”
Your body becomes visibly tense. “I...I was with {name}. He insisted that I help him with his final Beast-Keeping project.”
Satan quirked an eyebrow at you. “What exactly did he need help with? The Beast Keeping course isn’t all that difficult.”
Shifting your weight between your feet, you cast your eyes away from him. “Well, I mean...no, it’s not. But...he needed my help with his final write up of the assignment, since he didn’t do much of the observations last week.”
“Is that so? Why didn’t he do it himself?” Satan muttered, moving his books back to the table and motioning for you to take a seat. You oblige, removing your own materials from your bag.
“Well, He was out with a few of his friends on Monday, on Tuesday and Wednesday he wasn’t feeling good, and on Thursday he had dinner duty. Plus, this weekend he went on a trip to Hell Dome to watch the Fangol tournament...So I did the observations for him. It only makes sense that I do the write up if I have all the information.”
Satan pinched the bridge of his nose. This wasn’t the first time you neglected your work in favor of basically doing your boyfriend’s work for him. In fact, this was why you needed the extra study sessions with Satan in the first place. Because of how much time and energy went into making sure his assignments were perfect, your own grades started to slip, causing Lucifer begin breathing down your neck. Satan stepped up to save you some grief, but he was becoming increasingly annoyed by how the man you were dating used your passiveness against you.
“Mc...You’re struggling to complete your own work- why do you keep doing his for him?”
You frown. “I...I was just trying to be supportive, you know?”
“There are other ways you can be supportive without running yourself into the ground by doing all his work.” Satan noted, annoyance clear in his tone.
“But...It’s my job as his partner to take care of him.”
Satan’s brow knitted in confusion. “Pardon?”
You rub your forearm sheepishly. “I mean...I’m not a good partner if I cant show him I can take care of him. There’s been many times where I’ve messed up and neglected his needs, so-”
“Name one time.”
“...huh?”
Satan crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes at you. “Name one time that you ‘neglected his needs’.”
“Uhh...” You wrack your brain, trying to think of something to say in response. “Well...there was the one time where I went to the human world with you and Lucifer for a retreat when I had planned to help him with his laundry. And then when I made dinner during the retreat at the castle and he didn’t like it. Oh, and I also spend some Friday nights with all of you, when he said he’d rather have me at purgatory hall with him so we can have some intimate time.”
“Mc, none of that is neglecting his needs.” Satan sighs running his hand through his hair. “You do everything for that man and prioritize him in everything, and not once have I seen him make you a priority. It honestly seems to me like he’s just using you.”
Your frown intensifies and you drop your gaze away from him. “But...If I don’t make sure he’s happy...He’ll leave. He talks all the time about how he could find someone better. Without him I’m nothing.”
Satan stares at you, mortified by your assertion. “Mc, that is absolutely preposterous.”
You shrug in response, picking at a scab on your arm.
Satan shakes his head, snatching your hand in his. “You’re much more than a mule for him to pile his workload onto.- You’re intelligent, kind-hearted, caring, brave, and have a great sense of humor. If he thinks he can find someone better than you, then there must be a pile of manure where his brain should be.”
You let our a soft giggle, but the frown quickly makes its way back on your lips. “Thank you for saying that...but he’s right about everything. If I didn’t have him, I’m not sure who would really go for someone like me.”
“Wait a minute.” Satan squeezes your wrists gently. “Right about...what, exactly?”
“That I’m inconsiderate, prudish, useless, boring, ugly...” You pause, suddenly feeling stupid saying all of these things out loud. You start to wonder why someone who claimed to love you talked to you that way.
“Mc...seriously?” Satan huffs, anger growing at all of the things the man who claimed to love you had said about and to you. As you go on about the things he’s said and done, Satan feels the swell of wrath in his chest only grow more intense. You detail the ways he was clearly manipulating you into doing everything for him, and calling you a bad partner when you try to resist his desires- no matter how outlandish they were. Satan’s breaking point was the brief mention of him withholding affection if you declined to gratify him sexually, and how he had cheated on you multiple times under the guise of you not “putting out” enough.
“I think I’ve heard enough.” Satan murmured in a near growl, but tried his best to hold back his wrath. The last thing he wanted was for you to think he was mad at you. “Mc, why do you stay?”
You chew on the inside of your cheek for a moment before replying in another shrug.
He sighs. “There’s plenty of people who would cherish your company more than this ignoramus...and I am one of them.”
You blink back your surprise. “What..?”
Satan’s cheeks tint a deep pink, not having prepared himself for the confession he’d been holding in for so long. “I like you. A lot. And it hurts me to see you love this man who clearly treats you no better than a bag of trash. You deserve to be treated delicately, and encouraged to be your own person, rather than what he wants you to be...and you didn’t need to fix my family for that fact to be true.”
Your jaw hangs open slightly, not knowing what to say in response. Perhaps the years of your boyfriend tearing you down has made you blind to the fact that other people can- and do- like you beyond what you can offer for them.
Satan squeezes your hand in his. “I can’t force you to end the relationship- nor can I force you to date me instead. But I hope you take the time to think about the words I’ve said today. You’re more than what’s he’s made you believe you are.”
The two of you sit in silence for a moment before turning your attention to your study materials. Not much was done considering all of the time that had been used up by being late to the session and the conversation with Satan that ended up deeper than you anticipated. By the end of it, though, you were finally having second thoughts about the relationship, believing finally that perhaps you did deserve better.
--------------------------------------------
A week had passed since your conversation with Satan. Much to his dismay, you still remained within the relationship with your boyfriend. He watched him scold and criticize you for the poor marks he got on his Beast Keeping assignment- though the reason was not because of the quality of the work you had done. Satan had tipped the professor off to the fact that the man had been cheating on his assignments, reducing his grade so significantly that he would never be able to raise it past failing.
Since then, he had been non-stop berating you each time Satan saw the two of you together. It was clearly grating on you too. The way your eyes were stained in a permanent state of blood-shot and the deep bags underneath indicated to him that you had spent many nights up sobbing because of his words. He silently wondered when you would have enough. Though, little did he know, that day would come sooner than he anticipated.
The sound of yelling drew Satan’s attention away from his book. It was coming from the courtyard just outside the window he was sitting near in the Library. Satan closed his book and approached the window to see what had drew in a crowd of demons. He froze upon seeing you and your boyfriend in the midst of all the staring eyes, though something about it seemed different. Your boyfriend looked angrier than ever, his words coming out of his mouth so intensely that spittle was flung into your face, given how close his was to yours. You looked hesitant, but your stance appeared much more confident than the usual demure stature you held.
Satan quickly packed up his bad and darted out the door, ready to come to your aid should you need protection. He didn’t think the man would be so bold as to try to physically harm you, but he didn’t want to risk it. As he approached the two of you in the courtyard, his heart fluttered as the firm sentiment he instilled in you escaped your own lips.
“I deserve better than this. I already told you, and I’m not going to say it again- We’re done.” You crossed your arms over your chest and straightened your back further, the action clearly indicating conviction in your statement.
Satan smiled at you from behind your boyfriend, catching your eyes briefly. His eyes shimmered with pride at your ability to stand up for yourself and tell this loser to fuck off. You make a point to glance toward the Library before turning away from your boyfriend, walking away in the opposite direction. If Satan hadn’t known better, he would have missed the signal you gave to meet him in your usual spot.
“Get the fuck back here!” your ex-boyfriend shouted as he stomped toward you. You turned in time to see he had raised his arm up as if to strike you, and felt your heart drop to your stomach. Squeezing your eyes shut, you prepared for the impact of his hand striking your face.
When the impact didn’t come, you open your eyes to find the man gone. The rest of the demons murmured amongst themselves, but nothing intelligible could be gained from their conversation. You happened to notice that Satan, too, was gone. Without further hesitation, you quickly paced to the meeting spot to find Satan, wanting so desperately to be rid of the terrible feeling you had in the pit of your stomach.
---------------------------
Within seconds, Satan had snatched your ex’s hand out of the air and jerked him backwards to the ground. Before the man had time to react, Satan uttered an teleportation spell that sent both he and the man to the front steps of Diavolo’s castle, preventing you from seeing what he was intending on doing. Satan dropped gracefully from the portal while the man fell from mid-air, slamming face-first on the marble steps leading into the large front doors.
The man groaned, setting his jaw as he rolled over. Satan towered over the man as he regained his bearings, chest heaving as the wrath he felt began to boil over. The audacity this man had in trying to hit you when you tried to leave- he only thanked whatever higher power at work that he had been there to stop it from happening. The more he thought about it, the angrier he became, demon form slipping out effortlessly between growls and labored breaths.
The man’s breath caught in his throat as he witnessed Satan morph into his demon form, and then into something...different. It was almost ethereal; well, if it wasn’t so terrifying, that is. A black mist-like fog encapsulated his entire being, and all that could be seen from where he lay atop the steps was the demon’s intense green irises, and elongated fangs that were pulled up in a snarl. The man felt his heart rate become rapid, the urge to flee increasing- but it was as if he was frozen in place. The air became thicker and thicker as the fog increased its radius, sucking all of the air out of the area in along with it. The man struggled to breathe, beginning to gasp for air as he finally found his body movements return to his control.
An attempt to flee turned into the man’s face hitting the ground once more as Satan’s gripped his leg with his tail, ultimately tripping the man. The serrated scales tore the skin of his calf as Satan dragged him back toward him. He lifted him upside-down in front of his face so that their eyes met. He was so close that he could smell the iron off Satan’s breath- as his gums bled profusely from his growing teeth.
“L-let me go!” The man screamed desperately, darting his gaze around for anyone who could be of assistance to him.
Satan hissed in response; the sound sending chills down the mans spine. He refused to meet any of the man’s words with a dignified response. He only wished to strike true terror into his soul, and engaging in conversation- albeit an intimidating one- didn’t much appeal to him.
Satan’s tail gripped the man’s leg tighter, eliciting screams of pain deep from within him. The ripping of flesh beneath his grasp only fed into Satan’s theatrics, earing a satisfied, toothy grin. He continued constricting the mans leg until his tail met bone, and then- in an action as quick as snapping one’s fingers- the man’s tibia was snapped in two.
The man bellowed in pain as Satan dropped him to the ground. Upon seeing his mutilated leg, the man lost all sense. He scooted backwards away from Satan, mumbling please to be released as he lost control of his bladder. A trail of urine followed him as he backed all the way against the castle door, desperately trying to put as much space between he and Satan as physically possible.
A scoff was all that was given in response to the man’s actions. Satan began flexing his claws in anticipation for their use.
How pathetic.
Satan whipped his tail toward the man, pulling him to his feet by the arm and yanking him forward. Before the man could protest, Satan slashed his claws against the man’s face. Blood and chunks of flesh flew from his cheeks as he wailed, painting the beautifully polished marble steps a deep scarlet color. Satan nearly purred at the sound of his agony, finding deep pleasure in his pain. The man continued to beg as Satan clawed at the man’s face and chest until he was nearly unrecognizable, with the exception of the badge on his RAD uniform indicating he was an exchange student.
When the man had lost enough blood to the point where he was barely conscious, Satan dragged his body back up to the front doors of the castle. He left him in a pile of flesh and sinew, blood soaking the marble as it cascaded like waterfalls down the steps. the action was similar to that of a cat who had killed its prey to display for their owner- a way to display his pride in being able to protect you.
Satan watxhed the mans body for a moment while he calmed himself back down. Just as his breathing stopped, Satan's demon form dissipated and a wave of relief washed over him. He made his way back to RAD with the help of another teleportation spell, feeling exhausted from the mauling dealt out to your ex boyfriend.
As Satan entered the library, he immediately noticed you pacing the floor, picking nervously at the skin on your arms. When you saw him, you followed your immediate instinct and captured Satan in a tight hug. After pulling away and noticing his blood-soaked clothes that had subsequently stained your own attire, you figured you were in for another lengthy conversation in place of your normal study session. To your surprise though, Satan took you by the hand and lead you back to the House of Lamentation to spend the evening with him- in whatever capacity you would have him in.
Before leaving, you notice him glance at a notification on his phone before shutting the device off. You couldn't see all of what it said, but the message appeared to be from Lucifer, asking about the mutilated remains of your boyfriend on the steps to the castle.
GIMME THAT LUCIFER ANGST.
B- Brittle!!!!
B 》 Brittle
hard but liable to break or shatter easily.
1k event Masterlist
Genre: Angst, Drabble
Written for GN!Mc (you/yours)
WC: ~500
CW: Lesson 16 Spoilers, Death, blood/gore descriptions
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...
And where was the pride in that?
Melancholia
{part Eight}
Fandom: Obey me!
Genre: Angst
Written for F!Mc
WC: ~2.1k
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.”
Sanctuary
{ft. Diavolo}
Part 3 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: ~4.1k
TRIGGER WARNING: Each part contains graphic depictions of various types of abuse, please see specific content warnings for each individual part.
Cw: Physical abuse, strangulation, emotional abuse, emotional neglect, manipulation, gaslighting, graphic violence and gore, catatonia, anxiety, PTSD, vague bath scene, ch. 16 spoilers, urine mention
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.
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.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Impurity
{ft. Lucifer}
Part 4 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: ~4.9k
TRIGGER WARNING: Each part contains graphic depictions of various types of abuse, please see specific content warnings for each individual part.
Cw: Sexual assault / rape, Sexual abuse, physical abuse, depictions associated with making a sexual assault report, negative self-talk and poor self-esteem, graphic violence and gore, mentions of sex, use of misogynistic language, Headcanon that Mammon is a SA survivor is mentioned
I know I am seemingly one-note, lol. I just love writing Lucifer beating the fuck out of rapists but I promise I will do others if it’s requested of me!!
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.
“Hey...Lucifer?” You knock gently on the frame of his office door and peak your head in, having seen the light on and door ajar. You hoped you weren’t bothering him, as you knew he was a busy demon...but part of you was wishing he'd give you an excuse not to talk to him.. "Can I...Can I talk to you for a minute?”
Lucifer perked up upon hearing your voice echo just barely above the orchestral music playing over his record player. He sets down his demonus and straightens his loosened collar. “Yes, Mc. Come in.”
He studies you as you walk through the door, taking note of your typical demur demeanor as you quickly take a seat across from his desk. He cocks his head, seeing your back hunched over in such an uncomfortable way as you try to make yourself smaller. He couldn’t keep track of how many times he had reminded you to fix your posture, trying to avoid having you deal with a lifetime of chronic back pain. You catch his gaze for just a minute, and straighten your back as if on cue. He hums to himself; perhaps he had made a difference after all.
He smiles, returning his focus to his paperwork, swiftly scratching his quill on the parchment. “What can I do for you?”
You sit silent for a moment, unsure of what to say. You wanted to be honest with him- to tell him what was going on with you and your boyfriend, but something akin to guilt held you back. He could get expelled if you tell on him...though that wouldn’t be a particularly bad thing. It’s not like you didn’t care about him despite all he’s done, but he’s hurt you so many times that you needed something...someone to intervene. You gulp, swallowing back the negative thoughts that had turned to fear...but what if nothing changes? What if you telling the eldest makes things worse for you? What if he tries to-
“Mc?” Lucifer lifts his gaze, becoming concerned with your obvious signs of nervousness. The sweating, the trembling, the very obvious rapid heart beat that he could feel pounding through you from where he was sitting...Something was wrong- this wasn’t just you being shy. Lucifer had begun to break through your hesitance and shyness despite all you had gone through in Devildom. His brothers began to consider you family, and he grew quite fond of you too. In the same sense, he could tell when you were especially anxious about something, and he would have to be blind to not see the pattern it followed. Whenever that piece of shit you called a partner was around you, your attitude soured. All the happiness you exhibited around his brothers was sucked out of you whenever that bastard was around, but you assured them your relationship was fine. Something about it felt off about it though, and he couldn’t quite put his finger on why he immediately had a distaste for the man. Despite Lucifer not being too fond of you at first, he had an appreciation for your kindness, conflict resolution skills, and your ability to calm others around you. And that tended to be nulled when he was around.
You take a deep breath. “I wanted to ask you something...about- uh- RAD policies.”
He lifts an eyebrow, abandoning his quill and putting his full attention on you. “I assume you haven’t done anything wrong to prompt this question?”
You feel your heartbeat quicken, going so fast it feel it may burst from your chest. “What? N-no! It’s not-”
“Relax,” Lucifer extends his hand across the desk, nudging a glass of water toward you with concern painted all over his face. “It was all in jest. Now, what is you question?”
You breathe a sigh of relief, reaching toward the glass and lifting it to your lips with shaking hands. Lucifer notices a bruise on your wrist as you reach for the glass.after a moment of silence and him staring at your hand, you remember what it was you were going to talk to him about.
“Oh- yeah...” You drop your gaze to the floor for a moment, thinking over your words.
Lucifer folds his arms, blinking at you expectantly. As you nervously meet his gaze, you felt urgency build in your stomach. He had just parted his lips to say something when you blurted out what you had been meaning to say.
“I wanted to a-ask. If someone were to experience an...uh...an a-assault. Who would they have to go to, and- uh- what would happen to the accused? ...Uh- hypothetically speaking, of course...” You manage to stutter the words out quickly before you could change your mind.
Lucifer’s eyes widened in surprise at your question. He watches you play with your fingers nervously, waiting for his response. As his brain processes the words that tumbled past your lips, a feeling of unease grows in his chest. He leans forward, his gaze more intense as he observes your reactions. “An assault...of what nature? Were you harmed?”
You shift your eyes away from him, gulping back the fear and emotional pain returning to the front of your mind. “I...I’m just asking for...a-a friend.”
Lucifer nods, clearly seeing right through your lie but choosing not to challenge you on it. He was concerned that you would scurry away and hide whatever was going on from him if he did. The prospect of you having been assaulted in some way sends alarm bells ringing through his system, and he needed to get as much information out of you as possible. Not only did he need to find and eliminate the scum responsible for hurting you, but he also would need to inform Diavolo so the proper paperwork could be completed. “Well, for your friend then. What happened to them?”
Your eyes dart around the room, briefly connecting with his before continuing their frantic path throughout his office. You didn’t want to tip Lucifer off to knowing this was about you and your boyfriend, so you tried your best to remain vague. “They...They were sexually assaulted by a classmate.”
Lucifer cleared his throat, feeling as if he had been hit by a freight train. He swallowed hard, taking up his pen and a blank piece of parchment to take down a report. He tried desperately to remain calm, and tried to hide the fact that he was extremely worried about you. “That is quite a serious offense, and one that would absolutely require a report. Do you know details- Who was involved, what had happened, etcetera?”
You shift nervously in the chair, unconsciously squeezing your legs together. “Well...I don’t think I want to say who was involved...o-out of respect for them.”
“The accused as well?” Lucifer eyes you suspiciously.
You hesitate, but give him a small nod. “At least for now.”
Lucifer sighs, but returns the head movement. “I will need to have that information to make a full report, but for now we can bypass it.”
You relax a little into the firm leather chair at the validation that you didn’t have to disclose those details right now. It felt wrong lying to him about the fact that it had happened to you, but you felt reassured by the fact that he was taking it so seriously. Lucifer scratched some words onto the parchment, the sound easing some of your tension. From your seat, you could see it was today’s date and a few details indicating what the report was about.
"Now then, would you mind starting from the beginning?” He looked up at you briefly while scrawling, seemingly trying to read your features. “Give as much detail as you can.”
You nod, taking a deep breath before speaking. “Well, my friend spent the night in- uh, another student’s dorm. They knew it was a bad idea, but they didn't feel like they had a choice...And he...uh- I mean, they- started touching them without their consent...”
Lucifer nodded, quickly scrawling down each word said with precision as you spoke. The more details you provide, the more worried he became, considering he had already suspected this “friend” scenario to be fabricated.
“Okay...and then what happened?”
You stared at your hands as you picked the skin around your fingers, staying quiet for a moment.
Lucifer looked up at you, pen still in hand. He reached out his other toward you, catching your attention. “It’s okay. This is a safe place to discuss such matters.”
You sigh, turning your gaze back down toward your hands. Your voice was barely above a whisper as you spoke. “H-he forced them to have sex.”
Lucifer felt his heart shatter, reluctantly turning his attention back toward the parchment, but keeping an eye on your trembling form. He wasn’t quite sure what to say in the moment, given that you clearly didnt want to tell him this was something that you were experiencing, but he knew he had to try to say something in an attempt to comfort you. “I’m so very sorry to the ‘friend’ who had to go through that. I’m sure it must have been truly awful. I hope that they know, as well as you, that I am going to be taking this very seriously.”
You stayed silent, trying to fight back tears as you hugged yourself tightly.
Lucifer sighed deeply, turning his gaze back down toward the parchment as he continued on with the report. “At what time and date did this occur?”
You furrow your brow, trying to pinpoint an exact time frame. “Umm...a few nights ago- well, one of the incidents, that is. And-”
“One of?” Lucifer shot his gaze up at you, feeling horrified at your assertion. “How many times has this occurred, exactly?”
You felt your heartbeat quicken once again in a panic. Your words begin tumbling out of your mouth without having thought about them. “Uh...I-I don’t know...I-I haven’t really kept track.”
Lucifer blinked, confused by your words. Keeping track? Dear Father... he felt sick to his stomach at the mere thought of something happening to you once, let alone so many more times than that. He shook his head, leaning forward toward you and extending his hand once more. “Mc, I need you to tell me- is this situation faced by the unnamed ‘friend’ actually referring to something that has happened to you?”
Your face drains of color and you begin to feel your breathing become ragged. Panic seeps into every inch of your body. You stood up suddenly, mumbling an excuse about needing to go, and you bolt out of Lucifer’s office without looking back. You ran as fast as you could to your room, bypassing a few of the brothers on your way. Each looked on with mortified concern.
Lucifer sits back in his office chair, pinching the bridge of his nose. He was unsure of how to process the events that just transpired before him, and he was so very worried about you. He felt sick to his stomach at the realization that someone had harmed you in such a way, and though he had a good idea as to who it was, he had no proof. He cursed under his breath, knowing nothing could be done within the realm of Devildom Law unless you decided to go into depth on what happened to you, or some sort of evidence was gathered to prove of your boyfriends abuse. Looking back, he saw all of the warning signs that he should have picked up on. The increased anxiety, the isolating, the excessive bruises and marks all over your body that you desperately tried to hide- it all should have made sense sooner. He shook his head, pushing the hindsight bias away. As he stood and exited his office; all he could think about was ensuring he was there to comfort you.
He cautiously walked to your room, catching worried glimpses from his brothers on the way there. They all asked various questions about your behavior, and if you were okay, but Lucifer side-stepped them. It was none of their business unless you made it so- but he understood if you chose to keep the events of what happened to you to yourself. He had never experienced such nefarious encounters with anyone before, but he knew that Mammon had frequently encountered coercion with a few witches that left him feeling a similar way. He couldn’t image the amount of shame you had harbored within you, and he guessed you feared retaliation from the one who did it, given how terrified you looked.
He knocked gently on your door, hoping you would answer. As expected, the door remained latched in place. As he leaned into the door, he could hear desperate sobbing from within your room. His chest ached at the sound, knowing you were probably in such large amounts of pain. Lucifer knocked once more before announcing his entrance, and then allowed himself entry into your room with his master key.
You heard Lucifer enter, but were too wrapped up in your sobs to yell at him to leave you alone. Besides, part of you did want him to stay- it always bothered you how you often wanted two conflicting things at once. You curled in on yourself, not bothering to turn to face him.
Lucifer approached your fetal-positioned body, sitting down on the bed beside you and gently placing his hand on your shoulder. “Mc, I know you're hurting...But I want to be here to support you...if you’d allow it.”
You choked on your tears, not being able to give a verbal response. Instead, you nod, clutching yourself tighter as more tears forced their way out from behind your eyes.
Lucifer shifted so that he had easier access to your back, rubbing circles gently around the center. He hushed you as you cried, reminding you that you were safe, and providing reassurance that he was not going to leave you to be victimized again. You cried for what seemed like hours, and every now and then Lucifer would get up to open the door, quickly shut it, and return with something for you. The first time it was a bottle of water, the second time it was tea, and the third it was Belphie’s favorite pillow.
After your tears slowed, you eased yourself up to a sitting position, but declined to meet Lucifer’s eyes. He watched you carefully, ensuring to be alert to when you needed something from him, but trying not to make assumptions at the same time.
“Can we talk?’ He asked the question in as gentle of a tone as he could muster. “I need to know more about what's happened to make sure you're safety is upheld...if you are okay with telling me.”
You nod slightly, glancing at him once before returning your eyes to the floor.
“Who hurt you?” Lucifer asked softly, trying his best to not come off as demanding.
You swallow, your body tensing as you try to find your voice.
Lucifer pauses for a moment before extending his hand toward you. “Here. Squeeze once for 'yes', twice for 'no'. Can you do that?”
You stare at his hand for a moment before hesitantly taking it in yours. You give one gentle squeeze, signaling to him that this was okay.
He gives you a half smile. “I’ll try asking a different way- was your Boyfriend the one who did that to you?”
You bite your cheek, and squeeze his hand once.
Lucifer nods, unsurprised at the confirmation of what he suspected. “The assaults...had they always ended in intercourse?"
You wince, but squeeze his hand twice.
He sits still for a minute, giving your hand a gentle squeeze back. "Was this the first time it had gone that far?"
He feels a gentle squeeze from your hand. He waits for a moment, thinking maybe you will squeeze twice, but another doesn’t come. He nods sadly, feeling sorrowful that he hadn’t been able to help you sooner- before you had to experience something worse than what you already had been through. He felt immense guilt for having put you through what he did while you were facing so much pain already, despite the fact that you had buried the hatchet with him.
“Have any assaults happened in our home?”
You hesitate, but squeeze his hand twice.
He breathes a sign of relief, thankful that he hadn’t missed something while he had been around to potentially stop it. The notion eased his guilt somewhat.
Before he could ask his next question, you decide to speak. Your voice was subdued and hard to hear, but he was able to make out what you said: “It's happened at one of Diavolo’s parties though...but most of the time it's been at RAD- up until a few nights ago when I was studying with him at Purgatory Hall...that's when he...he...”
Lucifer turns his head away from you for a moment. He stares out the window, muttering his contempt for the man who called himself your boyfriend under his breath. He squeezes your hand tighter to reassure you that you don't have to continue talking if you didn't want to. “Have you tried telling someone else?”
You quickly squeeze his hand twice, rubbing tears away from your eyes with your other hand. “You...You’re the only one that knows.”
He looked down at your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze to let you know he was here. He was saddened by the fact that not only did he not catch on, but no one else had at well. There were so many opportunities for someone to intervene...why couldn't I have seen it sooner...
Your voice interrupts his thoughts, before he delves too far into self-loathing. “I just...I didn't know what to do..."
Lucifer meets your eyes once again. His eyes were glossy as if he was about to cry. He tugs on your hand gently, but stops, as if reconsidering something. After a moment, he speaks. “Mc, would you care for a hug?”
You smile weakly through the tears and nod, giving him approval. He pulls you gently into his arms and wraps you in a tight embrace. His body is warm and comforting, and you relax into the way his arms grip you firmly, but provide enough space for you to exit the hug should you choose to do so.
The rest of the evening is spent in your room, with Lucifer re-writing your report from earlier with the new information given. He is sensitive to your limited ability to talk about what happened, providing you breaks when needed and not asking for any graphic detail. The hardest part was providing photo evidence of the scars and bruises left along your body from the most recent incident, as having to strip yourself nearly nude in front of Lucifer felt uncomfortable. He did his best to continue to make you feel safe and secure in his presence...Which was something you appreciated.
After compiling his report, he spent the night with you. You talked about...well...anything and everything, and he provided you with physical comfort- the likes of which you hadn’t felt in a long time. The anxieties related to your ex-boyfriend’s retaliation picked up once you texted a vague message with the intention to break up and blocked his number, but Lucifer assured you that he would take care of everything later.
-----------------------------------------------------
Lucifer shook his umbrella off in the foyer before dropping it into the decorative stand near the door. The walk home from RAD had been atrocious, but he needed to make sure you had arrived home safely. You had left RAD early with Beelzebub’s accompaniment, but a Fangol game had taken him away from your side for the rest of the evening. Lucifer was worried about you being home alone for an hour, but he reassured himself it would be fine. It was only one hour, after all.
He removed his coat and loosened his tie before stopping by the kitchen to grab some demonus. He thought about offering you to join him in his study while he worked for the evening, so setting the mood was imperative to him. As he set up the wine glasses and turned on his record player, a curious sound piqued his interest. He stepped out of his office, calling out to you once. You were the only one home, after all- so any noise he presumed was coming from you. After hearing the noise again, his heart dropped to his stomach like an anvil.
It sounded like muffled screaming.
Lucifer bolted up the stairs as fast as he could, cursing himself for even thinking to give an hour gap in your protection after he had filed the report to Diavolo last week. The investigation had begun, and you repetitively voiced your worries about retaliation from your ex-boyfriend...He just didn’t think the man would be so bold- under his own roof, no less.
Without losing momentum, Lucifer threw his weight into the door, crashing it open. Fortunately, the man hadn’t seemed to have hurt you too severely, despite the fact that it looked like he was trying to. He had you pinned to your bed, shirt split open with a hand around your neck. Seeing Lucifer, he panicked and pressed further into your trachea, causing you to gasp desperately for air.
Lucifer growled and sprang forward, grabbing the man faster than he could react. He effortlessly pulled him off of you, allowing your ability to breathe to return. Lucifer dragged him out of your room by the hair, only pausing briefly to tell you to go to his room and wait for him there. He didn’t care that the investigation hadn’t yet been completed, as your safety gained priority to him...It’s not like he wanted to wait for the investigation to complete to be able to tear the man who hurt you apart anyway, and now he had an excuse to finally teach this bastard a lesson. Whoever hurt you in such a monstrous way deserved a fate far worse than death, and that is precisely what he was going to get.
Pulling aggressively at the tendrils in his scalp, Lucifer dragged the man all the way down 3 flights of stairs and into the basement catacombs. A small chamber existed within the depths of the HOL, long abandoned as the need for torture dwindled with Diavolo’s reign and new laws were established. He threw the man into the cell roughly, relishing in the sound of his head cracking as it hit the concrete foundation to the house.
Lucifer squatted in front of the man, ruby eyes piercing through his skull in the flickering candlelight. His voice was intense, but eerily calm at the same time. "What makes you think you could enter my home and attempt to hurt a fellow exchange student?"
The man groaned in response, still dazed from his head hitting the wall. Lucifer snorted and gripped the man by the neck, lifting him and slamming him against the wall again.
"I'm not going to repeat myself." He hissed into the man's face.
"It-its none of your business." He spat back, clearly not understanding that Lucifer was the one in control.
The first born narrowed his eyes, squeezing his throat tighter. His claws dug into his skin, producing small amounts of blood as the man gasped for air. "I believe it is my business, as it concerns the safety of the one I pledged to oversee."
The man gave a wheezing laugh, taunting the eldest brother right to his face. "Yeah. right. 'Oversee.' A-are you sure you're not just j-jealous?"
Lucifer's expression soured as he registered the meaning of his words. He slammed the man against the wall again, blood now dripping onto the floor from the back of his head.
"You've got some nerve, human." He snarled, dropping his body to the floor. The man gasped for air desperately as Lucifer paced in front of him. So many ways the human could meet their demise, but what way would be the most painful? And what method would allow prolonged torture, but get him to your side the fastest? He spotted spool of electrical extension cords on the wall for emergency use, being that the rest of the items typically used for torture were at the Demon Lords castle.
That will have to do.
Lucifer gripped the man by his hair once more, pulling rougher when the man tried to squirm out of his grasp. He pulled the cords tight around him, stringing him upside down from the ceiling of the cell. Lucifer cracked his neck, discarding his gloves and vest to the floor- his eyes never leaving the terrified man who hung before him.
"You know." Lucifer sighed, extending his claws and giving them a once over to assess their sharpness. "I never liked you in the first place, but beyond all doubt I decided to give you a chance."
Lucifer slowly dragged his claws along the wall, eliciting a high-pitched screech as he sharpened them against the concrete. The man winced at the agonizing sound trying desperately to ignore it. Lucifer smirked, continuing to drag them until he was satisfied with their razor-edged sharpness.
"To think, that I had been so foolish. Hmpf...it's not often that I admit to making a mistake, so congratulations." He cooked his head, approaching the man. Lucifer's dtared into his eyes, the deep red orbs holding a mixture of contempt, and intent to kill. He pressed a claw to his cheek as the man trembled in fear. "Its a shame you won't be around to celebrate such a feat."
"H-hey man..." he now realized his predicament, losing all of his snarky demeanor in an instant as fear took over his actions. "I'll let you have the fucking bitch, just please let me go!!"
Lucifer's nose twitched in annoyance as he let out a deeply forced chuckle. The man gulped as his laughter echoed eerily through the cell, darting his eyes around to look for an escape. In an instant, Lucifer's laugh ceased and he slapped the man hard across the face. He screamed, his body swaying from the force of the impact.
"I can have them? As if you own them?" Lucifer yelled, the room seemingly shaking with the force of his voice. He was furious at the language the man who claimed to love you was using toward you. "How fucking dare you!"
Blood oozed out of the man's slashed face and onto the floor. Lucifer tugged his body closer to his face as he whimpered. He gritted his teeth, the words he spat at the man laced with venom. "You think you deserve mercy? Tch. The Avatar of Pride shows no mercy to those who bring harm to his family."
The man's eyes widened in fear as Lucifer brought his hand up to the man's stomach. He plunged his claws deep into his flesh and dragged his claws against the man's abdomen. He wailed in pain, pleading for Lucifer to spare his life, screaming out apologies for his behavior, and praying to whatever God there was to save him. Lucifer could almost laugh at the sight, if it wasn't so pitiful. How ironic that a man who had once seen himself as above all others, even the first-born himself, was now a sobbing mess, begging for his life as if he ever gave one shred of a fuck toward anyone else’s.
Lucifer retracted his claws, wiping his hands clean on the tail of his shirt. The man’s sobs had slowed as he became light headed from being drained of so much blood. He was just about to exit the cell when the man called out to him, urging him to look back over his shoulder.
“W-what, are you just going to leave me here alone to die?!” He screeched, tears plopping on the floor below him as he struggled against his binds.
Lucifer smirked. His fangs glistened a brilliant white as the flickering candle light danced off of them. With a snap of his fingers, the candles were extinguished, the only small bit of light was from Lucifer’s growing red eyes.
“Oh, don’t you worry...You’re not alone.”
Before Lucifer turned to exit, three more pairs of glowing red eyes appeared above his, along with a symphony of growls and snarls. The man stilled his movements, but his body continued to sway in the darkness. The eyes seemed to train on his swinging body despite the dark clouding most of his own vision. He began quaking with fear, as Lucifer uttered his final words.
“Enjoy your new chew toy, Cerberus.”
The best lunged forward with a deep roar as the man screamed. Lucifer smiled as he walked down the corridor of the catacombs, the sounds of the man’s wailing, Cerberus’s growls, and ripping flesh making him feel more calm with each step toward the stairs. With each ascension, the screams became more garbled, sounding as if the man was choking on his own blood. Gleeful yips from Lucifer’s hounds indicated that they had done their due diligence in following suit with Lucifer’s torture.
Lucifer Slammed the door to the basement behind him, leaving the man to his demise. He quickly jogged back up the stairs, briefly pausing by your room to confirm you had followed his instructions. He then returned to his room, softly announcing his presence before opening the door.
You were sitting in the far corner of the room, knees pulled to your chest and tears flowing down your cheeks. After confirming the individual who entered the room was Lucifer, you bolt toward him. He barely catches you as you swing your arms around his neck, sobbing into his chest. He carries you to the loveseat across from the fire place, a roaring fire lighting at the snap of his fingers. He sits you in his lap, gently rocking you and reassuring you that you were safe in his arms, and that your ex-boyfriend wouldn’t be around to harm you anymore.
Transpose
{ft. Solomon}
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.
