kim taehyung. | oh, lucifer. [i]
summary. you’re pretty damn stupid for accidentally drawing the sigil of lucifer, in effect, trying to summon the devil a thousand times over... but you’re also pretty sure he was more stupid for falling for your dumbass.
pairing. y/n x bts’ taehyung
genre. devil!au, strangers to lovers!au
word count. 7k
[two part series]
part I | part II
warnings. fem!reader [she/her pronouns], swearing, inaccurate descriptions of religious aspects, atheist!reader, my bad humor as per usual, reader has no sense of self-preservation, i think that’s it? and little proofreading ig bc i’m lazy
inspo. this tumblr post!
taglist.
(please just reply to this post if you wanna join the taglist! thanks <3)
just a reminder that this is fiction and i made up almost half of the religious stuff i was spewing… i don’t mean to offend anyone at all or try to make evil of religion or anything like that. it’s a concept that i got inspired by off of other fics and just inside my head so please do not flame me and correct me if i got something superrrrr off thank youuu <3
|—————|
BORED, BORED, BORED.
Your professor spews out more and more words that you couldn’t care to comprehend this early in the morning. You really should have practiced some sense of control the one day it really mattered; sign-up day for classes.
Being almost thirty minutes late paired with your horrible habit of pressing snooze, the worst classes (aka the classes that started at the ass crack of dawn) were all that were left by the time you signed onto your college website.
The pit of dread that pooled in your stomach the second you noticed your impending doom was all your fault. You really couldn’t blame a single person besides yourself, despite the way you wanted to with all of your heavy heart.
Seulgi had been really upset at your 7:30 AM scream of frustration that horrid morning.
Sighing, wishing that you could dissociate from your head until class was called for the day, you’re forced to blearily watch the board. Your professor’s words were incredibly small since you had chosen the farthest seat you could manage in this feeble, auditorium-shaped classroom. Wondering in the back of your head how the kids that usually sat back here learned anything, you get your answer by looking left and right.
All but one other girl in the back row were as slumped as you were, leaning on their desk and weakly holding a pencil to disguise their slight snores. You envied them, actually. As careless as you were about your responsibilities, you weren’t that bad. Paying thousands to go to school was not worth sleeping through. And even if you were a little hypocritical of your own opinion at times, at least you tried your hardest.
Reminding yourself of this fact, your back automatically straightens and you will yourself to open your ears. Slapping a little sense into your puffy cheeks, you determinedly pick up your blue pen, click its end in confidence, and write down the title of your professor’s current slide.
You had done the reading late last night, which was why you were so confident about your carelessness this morning. But you’re glad realization seeped into your brain soon enough. This degree wasn’t going to earn itself and through the sheer will of writing this one slide, it was a step closer to throwing your cap into the clear blue skies graduation day.
Skip forward four slides later, your professor is now on a topic he’s reviewing from last week. You’re relieved, dropping your pen from your fingers and torso twisting itself left and right in your uncomfortable seat. Glad that you paid attention last week, you tune your ears, and get back to your pen.
It’s running out though, so you switch to a purple one pulled out from your bookbag, sucking on the silver tip to draw the ink out. You hadn’t used it in a while.
As you look up to the front for the board though, your professor is showing off his cat for some reason. Curling your lips in, you sputter, a little confused at the sudden switch in focus. Not that you were mad… the cat was cute.
Past five minutes in though, he’s showing off his entire pet collection to date, and thankfully, freshie Taehyun is in the front row, taking the hit for everyone today, asking as many questions as possible to steer your professor off track.
Not your problem.
Checking your phone, you had twenty more minutes until you were out of here. Blowing hair from your face, you nod in satisfaction.
Flipping to the back of your notebook, you decide to continue this design you’ve been working on for your graphic design class. You had to create a symbol based on a letter you had chosen, incorporating symbols and meaning behind it that made the viewer think. As a person that tries not to think too much, this was quite the battle for you.
Having a few concrete ideas in mind though, you begin a rough sketch, choosing the letter V. It was a pretty letter, no? Starting with a capital letter in Times New Roman, you curl two lines off from its side, crossing them to make an X-shape above it. Wondering where to take it from there, you bite at the pen unconsciously, wracking your brain for what else to add.
Figuring you could add meaning to whatever you doodle later, you make a larger X above the one you just made by extending the lines. Balancing it out, you connect them with a horizontal line, liking it so far. It was missing something though… hmm. Crossing out the first sketch, you begin once more, making an altered version beside it.
And that’s what you do for the last minutes of class, redesigning and crossing out each you didn’t like and wanting to change a little as your professor excitedly rambled about his pet parrot.
You don’t notice a looming figure practically glaring up at you in irking irritation because… why would you? Satan was quite a busy man but could tell when his sigil was genuinely being used for a purpose. But your way of making it was… deluded.
Of all his years watching his symbol be passed down and drawn millions of times, never once did he think someone had drawn it by accident. And for such a dallying reason as for a fucking design class.
You jump when your professor gasps in the realization that his allotted time for lessons is over, happily dismissing everyone with a goodbye. A good few students pat Taehyun in the back for his genius.
Shoving your floppy notebook and pens into your bookbag, you practically fly out of the backdoors, leading to free air. At last, your torture was over and breakfast was calling at the library!
Speedily walking to the large sanctuary you proclaimed as your second home, you double-check your soft-food snack was actually in your bag. Your second-guessing is reassured and pushed back when your fingertips brush the several muffin bars you had haphazardly thrown in your black hole of a carrier.
You were quite excited to get this assignment for your graphic design class over with, considering that your inspiration was askew these days. You were just on the cusp of getting something good when your professor called time for class. And you had until three P.M. for your next class today, thankfully leaving enough space for you to finish this all.
Grateful to finally be indoors, a rush of warm air blows from above as you enter the library. Rushing to your usual crook in the corner, your deft fingers rip open a muffin bar package, stuffing your mouth quickly to flip open the back of your notebook again.
Your purple-inked pen is starting to die off only a minute into continuing your design and you muffle a little swear past the food in your mouth. Glancing up for a split second to nab a new pen from your bag, a dampened scream brings crumbs flying out your lips as you register a very menacing man sitting across from you.
His sharp, defined eyebrows scrunch more as he gets hit in the face with the fragments of muffin, calmingly but annoyingly, wiping at his cheek with a flick. His dark eyes open once more, the glaringly red irises causing your poor heart to beat at an abnormal rate.
Slapping a hand to your mouth, you’re frozen still at this all-black suited man before you, all long limbs with a heavy, terrifying aura surrounding him. You would start bolting out of this place if your monkey brain knew how to start working and initiate Plan Survival.
“I’d appreciate it if you changed your design, little human. It’s quite infuriating, being summoned thousands of times over.” The man bellows, jaw shifting in bored exhaustion.
You flinch at his deep voice, shoulders bunching upon themselves as you began registering the non-humanlike characteristics of this… “man.”
“Y-You have… horns.” You can’t help but point rudely, speaking around your mouthful of muffin, “And… red eyes.”
He rolls the latter, long eyelashes fluttering at your words as he pinches his thumb and pointer together with his temples between them. “How marvelous of you to observe. Did you register my words at all, girl?”
Swallowing roughly, you grip the armrests of your chair tightly, willing this scary guy to go away. At your stunned silence, Satan cocks his head, deadpan expression tilting forward as his chest follows, leaning into your space. He’s halfway off his chair, arms braced on the edge of your side of the table to glare into your trembling eyes.
He doesn’t tear his gaze away from you when he slams a hand to your notebook, making you jump at the sudden action. You’re scared shitless but unable to disconnect your gaping at his scarlet-colored irises.
The man slowly parts his plush lips. “If I feel like a puny pull from your direction, those little hands drawing my sigil once more, I might just drag you down to the darkest pit in Hell myself. Understand, girl?”
Your shaking inhale of air combines with a shiver down your entire body and all you can do is nod. Your head spins when the suited man grins devilishly, all perfect white teeth with eyes crinkled up as his lips form an ironic heart shape.
“Lovely. Have a delightfully horrid day, little human.” The man winks and then he’s gone, simply unexisting as his physical form disappears into thin air.
Oh, God. Your muffin bar is about to suddenly reappear from the bottom of your stomach.
|—————|
Seulgi has that incredulous look glued on her face right now. The one that predictably comes every time you’re on a tangent about something her tiny brain couldn’t process all that well. And usually, you’re quite unbothered by the look because some people weren’t built like you but now— now that it truly fucking mattered that she took in your words… you felt like sucker-punching that expression right off her face and bonking the idea into her skull.
“This dude just fucking— disappeared in thin air, Seulgi! I’m not going psycho! He genuinely had red horns growing out of his head like an evil goat or some shit and these terrifying red spheres o-of like… Satan!”
Seulgi can only sigh, slouching in her swivel chair to take in your fast explanation with several seconds of silence. The hope of your roommate taking you seriously for once shrivels when she only twists herself back around to continue her reading.
“Seulgi! This is serious!” You spit out, stopping your heated pacing on your 130 square feet of dorm room to whack her with a throw pillow.
She yanks the weapon away from your grip, tossing it on her side of the room to grit her teeth. “I have to study for this exam, Y/N. I am seriously going to lose my nonexistent marbles if you continue this.”
After twenty minutes of telling this horror story over and over, exhaustion wins and you practically collapse over Seulgi, ending up with your butt on the floor, head and arms in her lap. She pityingly runs her fingers through your bird’s nest of hair, which resulted from your endless pulling earlier.
“You are absolutely batshit crazy…” Her loving tone doesn’t help your mood, “And as your best—”
“Only—” You add.
“— friend, I am obligated to tell you that you are losing it.”
“Unfortunately.” You mutter into Seulgi’s knees, pressing your eye sockets hard into them. She puts a stop to your light attempt at self-harm, gripping your chin lightly.
“Are you seriously suggesting that Lucifer himself visited you because you accidentally drew his ritual symbol a hundred times?”
Pouting, you shove your face back into Seulgi’s thighs, “It was more like… a thousand times.”
“Oh, honey…” Seulgi sighs, untangling the threads of your hair, “You need a psychiatrist badly.”
|—————|
The thoughts of this dude crowd your little skull all the time. You just couldn’t get over how Satan himself fucking appeared before you like he was meeting you for brunch. Like… could you get any more main character? This happened to people in movies, not in real life by accident.
You genuinely were atheist before this entire ordeal and now your world’s flipped upside down because… the Devil came before you to tell you to shut the fuck up. How do you make that up? That’s what you try to convince Seulgi and she’s as stubborn as could be. Never did you ever want to hurt your precious little roomie so much and you’re quite the nonviolent person if you do say so yourself.
Another thing you couldn’t get over how handsome he was. You always pictured the Devil as an ugly three-headed guy with a horned tail, a gigantic naked red body with fangs or something but… he came to you in a well-tailored suit, ironed and cleaned to perfection. His obsidian shaded hair was parted in the middle, a strand in his ruby eyes that shined to a bright candy red when in the light. His lips were very luscious and his smooth skin was almost a caramel color that looked soft to the touch. What appeared like a black branch of visible veins stretched from his Adam’s apple, slinking into his hidden left breast by a loose silk button-up.
You now understand how the Devil lured sinners to Hell now. He played a part-time human playboy that hunted with his devilish (ignore the pun) good looks alone.
Now, this is an objective observation though. You would never really fall for Satan because… that’s a horrible way to make your life even worse. But you couldn’t ignore the obvious attraction to him. So when you mention this part to Seulgi a few days later, she laughs even harder at your “running joke”.
“Now, you’re definitely screwing with me. Please stop, this is so embarrassing for you.” Seulgi wheezes past her squeaking laughter, your anger simmering behind your glare.
“I’m not projecting my desires on this guy, alright. Satan was dressed this way—”
Another burst of squeaks come your way, “I can’t, I can’t! You can’t just say Satan with such a straight face—!”
You kind of wanted to be toxic and cut this girl off. But then who else would you rant to about this? Seulgi was only beginning to entertain you and your stories of the Devil now because it was her shot of serotonin every day.
You needed a way to convince her, it was digging and itching in the absolute marrow of your bones to prove this girl wrong. You weren’t crazy! You weren’t! You were confident in what you saw and you would die on this hill if you had to.
So that’s what your thinking was as you opened up your notebook again. You hadn’t even touched the cursed thing since you had your personal encounter with Satan a week ago but you died to.
Instincts had screamed at you the second you bolted out of the library to yeet the blue spiraled book into its belonged home of the school’s back dumpsters. That’s exactly what you had done and you had regretted it almost immediately, diving into the grimy green container to fetch it again.
After all, you had to pass your professor’s class, all be damned if the Devil is going to stop you from doing that.
But after, you had raced home, shoved it into the back of your school-assigned desk’s drawer, and called it a day until you absolutely had to study from the cursed thing. You had been afraid to touch it since, even when Seulgi tried to bait you multiple times into showing her for shits and giggles.
Your resolve had been scratching off every day though, that simpering, bubbling liquid anger held in your stomach worming its way up like an erupting volcano. Your roommate was really on her last straw when she drunkenly poked at you to get the notebook and prove her wrong.
Okay, maybe you were a little crazy in this aspect because you did exactly what you knew you shouldn’t have done because your pride told you so… You were a bit of a hypocrite. Can you blame yourself though? Tequila and your fuzzy brain never really had the best of relationships. That’s your excuse anyway as you fumbled for the notebook and took that purple pen again, messily drawing the sigil of Lucifer to summon him.
You should have taken his warning more seriously and the quick sobering you experienced was like a bucket of ice-cold water dumped over your head. The insistent swearing under your breath and panicking expression only had Seulgi grinning as she laid starfish on her bed, giggling at your stupidity.
“See? I told you, dummy! You’re so funny for—”
Dread enveloped you as he appeared at the foot of your bed, sitting cross-legged on your desk. The Devil picked under his rugged nails, staring dead straight into your eyes, your frozen form sat kneeling by your pillows.
He only grinned, that heart-shaped smile coming back as he took in your attire and state. You had sleep shorts on, a large T-shirt of the Jonas Brothers thrown over them. The warm skin of your cheeks and neck were appealing to Lucifer as he eyed your heaving body up and down.
“You should have listened carefully, little human.” He got up gracefully, ignoring Seulgi’s terrified, gaping figure curled in the corner as he approached you.
You struggled to fight for yourself. “I am so sorry. I am so so, so sorry. I-I didn’t think—”
“That I was serious, did you? You atheists never take a good warning to heart, hm?” He grabbed at your jaw in a flash, forcefully tilting your head as he took in your pretty features.
Your alcohol-induced brain breathed in the Devil’s cologne and shuddered at the enticing smell. He was quite literally built to be your wet dream. It was sick to think about but that was a large portion of what you wondered, despite the impending doom of your situation.
It was like he could read you as he smirked when you conjured those thoughts. “What a strange one you are…”
He continued inspecting you but the nails slowly grew into long claws, pressing in to almost draw blood from your cheeks. Wincing, in instinct you bend at his too-strong hold, gripping at his long fingers to let you go.
“P-Please, I promise I won’t do it again. Please, let me go!” You whimpered past dry lips.
The last words you can consciously remember, paired with the image of blaring scarlet eyes forced your own to flutter closed.
“I don’t think so, little one.”
|—————|
“Oh, my God...”
“Please. It’s oh, Lucifer down here.”
Grasping onto your band tee, you whip yourself around in every direction, taking in the horror of the place you were currently at.
“This has to be a fever dream.”
“Oh, I bet you wish it was.” The Devil chuckles darkly, sitting low upon his throne with his toned legs spread wide.
“Why…” You’re starting to panic, breathing uneven as your limbs grow weak, “Why did you bring me here?”
“Because I wanted a new jester.” He sarcastically drawls and you look up, willing yourself to calm down.
This is insane! Just a few minutes ago, you swear you were with Seulgi, getting shit-faced in your shared dorm. You hadn’t meant to actually provoke him to come to you again. Fuck, were you too drunk? Was this all a dream? It had to be right? You’re not actually in Hell right now?
“You’re in Hell, darling. Do not doubt that.” The Devil heaves as he stands up, approaching your crouched, sweating form, it being steaming in his throne room. He had forgotten how weak little humans were and with a slight wave of his forefingers, the temperature drops significantly.
“Can you… read my thoughts?” You ask fearfully, somehow still bold enough with your tipsiness to look Satan in the eyes.
Mashed potatoes.
The Devil chuckles at your abrupt hungry thinking, looking to the side to hide his smile.
“I don’t think I’ve ever met a human like you,” He says mirthfully, “What’s your name, girl?”
He bends in half to reach lower into your space. As much as you want to back away, you will yourself not be so afraid. If Satan was willing to entertain himself with you for a little bit, maybe you could charm your way out of this literal Hellhole.
“It’s Y/N. Don’t you already know that?” You acquire, tilting your head to the side.
That devilish smile slides back onto his visage, ruby eyes flickering to that candy red when the braziers in the wide room come close enough. “Well, of course I do. I just wondered if you knew it yourself, Y/N.”
You can’t help the way your tongue dries up at the Devil speaking your name so carelessly. Maybe you weren’t leaving this place.
“In Hell, things work differently. Humans can forget their names with time.”
Your heart seizes with those words. “I-I’ll forget my name? I don’t want to—”
“Oh, relax, will you?” He squints down, disliking your stumbling, “I haven’t quite thrown you to the pits yet. You’re fine up here with me.”
“And… do you plan to? W-Why do you have me up here now? With you?”
Noticing belatedly that his eyes scrunch up to crescents way before his mouth forms that charming shape, you watch as the Devil ponders his response.
“Hmm, let’s just say I needed a new perspective on something. Help me before I take your soul?”
You scramble back, about to twist and bolt away from the Devil when a searing hot grip wraps around your ankle and yanks you back into him.
With wide eyes when you flip onto your back, you rush to breathlessly explain yourself. “I promise my flight instinct usually doesn’t work, I don’t know why I just—”
“Let’s make a deal since you so obviously want to leave me.”
You want to protest just so that you could get on this guy’s good side but you had severely fucked that possibility up just now.
“Help me with these few things and I’ll let you leave Hell. Try to run one more time and to the Great Pit you go, hm?”
The bargain sounded easy enough, right?
He extends a large palm for you to shake and you slowly envelop your small one into his. A yelp escapes your lips when a brand of a very familiar sigil appears on your wrist where his thumb rested in your grasp. The raised, irritated skin stings, and when you run a featherlight touch over it, a whimper follows.
Looking up to the Devil again, he winks, the alcohol you downed earlier tonight swirling your head worse. “Just a precaution.”
The saying, “Don’t make deals with the Devil” pops into your mind, and looking down at the brand on your wrist, an odd rush of reverence for those wise words wash over you. You suppose it’s a lesson you’re soon to learn well.
He offers another hand to help you stand and begrudgingly you take it, not wanting to upset Satan into making more marks on your skin.
“Where are we going?” You pose, looking up to see Satan’s sharp jaw shift, a natural smirk curling onto his face.
“You’ll see, impatient one.”
Wanting to ask more questions in curiosity, you fight the urge and zip your mouth shut. The Devil glances over your timid figure though, who walks much slower beside him, almost needing to take twice as many steps as he does.
What a delicate little thing humans were. For all the deals he overlooks when bringing human souls down to Hell for banishing, the Devil wasn’t all that well-versed in their actual behavior. It’s been eons since he had been attached to a specific one for so long. A string of connection that you unknowingly pull at has been goading him to keep an eye on you.
You’re a strange human indeed, and Lucifer can’t help but try and keep you at his side for a little longer. He was abusing his power with that brand but what you didn’t know, didn’t matter. After all, the Devil doesn’t claim to have a good conscience. He only has it on Wednesdays actually... sometimes Thursdays if he was feeling dandy.
Unfortunately for you, today is a Saturday.
“You can ask your trivial questions, human. I do not mind. Many are not well-versed in religion these days.” Lucifer avoids your shocked expression when he reads your head again.
“So you can read my thoughts!” You jump in the middle of walking, gaining a bit of distance beside the Devil before falling behind quickly enough, “I knew you could! Can you do it all the time?”
He scratches under his chin, “If I want to, I can. A little energy I exchange for great power. It’s how I’m confident in the sorry lives I take here in Hell.”
You cringe a little in your excited state, forgetting how morbid this place was. “Ah, right. I, um, then… I won’t be thrown back here again, will I?”
Lucifer struggles to lie to your face for some reason so he twists his words in the natural way he usually does. “Well, you made a deal with me, darling—”
Your cheeks heat at the nickname.
“— you’ll be able to tell if you decide to escape, no?”
Nodding, you accept this fate and decide to implore the Devil’s lore.
“So what do you do down here? Just oversee all the sinners and bring them down here when it’s time?”
“That is the general idea, yes. The especially horrible ones get tempted by many of my associates to be invited to the party early.” He bares his teeth in a bright, broad beam, defined brows raising in a quirk.
“I see… like a succubus?”
For how little Lucifer thought you were about his world, he was a little surprised you knew what a succubus was.
“Yes, exactly. And how do you know of a succubus, girl?”
You tell him like it was, plain and simple. “Jennifer’s Body.”
He scoffs at your reply.
You wonder in your head if you were a bad person for being an exception to this. I mean… if you accidentally drew his sigil an ungodly amount of times on accident, was that enough to be sentenced to Hell?
You’re startled by a warm petting at the top of your head. When you peer up, there’s a bemused smile on the Devil’s plush lips.
“You have many fickle thoughts, girl. It’s quite beguiling.”
Should you be grateful for this compliment? You had no clue.
Another loud scoff passes his mouth as he takes his hand off your head, looking forward again.
“Any more dying questions, human?”
“Um… why do you need my opinion on this thing you’re bringing me to?” You ask meekly, wondering whether you were just going to receive another, “Wait and you’ll see” type of answer.
The Devil folds his hands behind his back, the black double doors you were heading to down this formidable dark hall opening by themselves. You marvel at his power under your breath.
“Well… it must have been fate that I visited your state when you tried to summon me a thousand or more times. I was irked beyond belief—”
“That was truly an accident on my part—”
“— and yet I was refreshed by your peculiar thinking. My council is forever old and fading, never changing their ways. I need new eyes for this project.”
With that, you pass the wide doorway and take in the chaotic surroundings. On the left side of the enormous space was a silver chained gate, intricate details curling and dying off in every direction. The barrier was wide open, bringing in hordes and hordes of people from everywhere and... nowhere it seemed. From where you could see, it revealed a black abyss where thousands and thousands were waiting in these slow lines.
Speaking of the lines, there were four of them, branching into the four corners of the hall, breaking out into smaller and even smaller ones. The ends of the lines reached individual desks where the next person in line came before…
“Underlings,” Lucifer fills in for you, bringing you closer for the both of you to listen in on an exchange, “They help me decide whether Hell is their true afterlife home, you see. I take on the big cases and step in when I need to. Cuts down on the slack so I grant them just a tiny slice of power from me.”
You nod in understanding, thinking that the hundred desks were set up like train station centers where you bought tickets. It was incredibly loud and busy, half of the sound in the room being taken by an incessant burr. You realize late that it comes from a printer-like machine, old and rusty which is placed beside each underling. With a flick of their arrow-shaped tail, the instrument shudders out a sheet of paper.
When you try to peek at what it says, Lucifer snaps his fingers quickly, stopping this one underling’s deadpan speech to the shivering human customer.
“Hand us a copy, will you Huening Kai?”
Bored and obviously tired, the young creature sighs, jerking his tail to hit a button on the side of the machine, spitting out another of the same paper. The Devil hands you the page and you gasp at the list of sins this person has committed.
“Have anything to say for yourself, man? You’ve been a really shitty person.” Huening Kai drones, tilting his chin down towards his chest with his feet propped up.
The human stutters, looking between the three of you, drawn to start pleading Satan. He just manages with an instinct to realize he was the bigger power here. Pityingly folding his body into a begging position, he rubs his hands together like he’s about to start a fire or something.
Before the man starts spewing nonsense, Kai and Satan make eye contact, and then the latter is pulling you away, despite your rapture in watching the interaction. It was like watching a car crash on the freeway; you’re unable to tear your gaze away from the terrible show.
You miss Lucifer’s chuckle from your again, deranged thoughts, placing a heated hand on your shoulder to guide your feet to the room’s right side. Another gate that looks exactly like the one on the left is intermingling with these deep, merlot-colored vines that twisted off into a wide, cave-like ravine. The gorge had a wide width, with steep sides encased in hundreds of worn-down stone stairs, carved from what looked like eons ago.
Those lines of people that you assumed were decidedly going down to Hell’s pit, were led down the rocky steps into a fiery chasm below. The Devil doesn’t let you get too close, scared you’ll fall or something along that sort, but you can just see a little of the hollow, all swirling red with specks of dark bodies reaching for help.
Your stomach turns at the sight, bile wanting to climb up at the echoing screams of so many voices traveling up to you. It was easier to hear by the open gate as those joining this never-ending line realized at the same time as you what awaited them.
You were being too careless about this whole situation. If this was what was awaiting you if you didn’t do your job right, you might just go genuinely insane. For real this time.
Looking up, you ask solemnly, “What do I have to do?”
The Devil takes in the rough swallow that goes down your throat and tries to squeeze at your shoulder comfortably. “You’re going to help me transform this place.”
“W-What— What do you mean by that?” Taking a quick scan around, you bewilderingly wonder what needs to be transformed.
Lucifer opens his wingspan, long arms waving to the chaos in this room. “This…” His booming deep voice draws your ears to listen closely, “... is inefficient. I’m getting news from above about how slow this process is. As you could tell earlier, the lines are getting too long and it’s getting old Father mad,”
His tone is spiteful as he continues. “It hardly seems like my fault that more sinners are joining me in Hell by the day— not a lack on my part but his— and now this whole shebang needs changing.”
“So… you want me to help you make Hell easier to enter?”
The heart-shaped grin you’re slowly beginning to see is signature to the Devil graces you once more.
“Right on, little human. Let’s begin.”
|—————|
“Do you think Seulgi is worried for me right now?” You ask another question and the Devil sighs loud at his desk.
You’re sat at your child one that he had playfully conjured to be in the corner of his office. Jokes on him because you didn’t end up complaining and settled in the tiny chair, comfortable as could be.
“Like I told you, time works differently down here. I think I now understand how she wished for you to be gone sometimes.”
Your gasp amuses him; you can tell by the smirk on Lucifer’s lips, even if he was looking down at his blueprint currently. “You’re lying. She wished for me to be dead?”
He looks up, rolling his eyes. “No, that’s not what I said. I said that she wished for you to be gone sometimes. That does not mean dead.”
“Well, now she’s dead to me.” You huff in a whisper, mouth pouting as you continued sketching your side of the blueprint as well.
Decidedly, you ignore the Devil’s rough chuckle, pressing extra ink with this feather pen in anger. That was a severe mistake because a blot of ink comes out strong and you swear loudly, making Satan jerk.
He tries to hide his scared reaction by tossing a tired expression your way. “What now, Y/N?”
Throwing the stupid writing utensil away, you begin your ramble, “You know, it’s a good thing you’re updating this place because it actually sucks—”
Lucifer throws up his eyebrows at that.
“— Like, your ink is trash. Why can’t you just update to pens? They work so much better and they have a variation of colors you can write in. Why use boring-ass black all the time? Add some spice for once. And for the list of sins you print out when making the final decision? That’s honestly so bad for the environment! Imagine how much paper you waste in one day. No, actually, in like… the whole time you’ve been running this place! Do you have an ecosystem here? Because you must be screwing it up severely with all this paper you waste for one-time use. Also—”
All that Lucifer can do is fondly listen to your daily ramble today, ignoring the multiple points you’ve mentioned before like clockwork. He knew that everything here was outdated but your jocular complaining of it was the highlight of his day.
The way you spoke and thought of the world reminded him of the elated feeling he got when he used to be able to fly. That sense of air, gliding in the baby blue skies; like bursting into a fluffy cloud and the rush of cold, wet drops of precipitation clinging to his skin after. It felt like him opening his eyes for the first time in forever to see how the Earth has not changed one bit. That beauty in the world just needs a new perspective. That was how Lucifer saw you.
More and more lately throughout the week and a half you’ve stayed with him, random spurts of your family and friends would pop up in your head. And Lucifer would selfishly try to banish and distract you from these thoughts out of his own loneliness. If he truly wanted you out of here, the both of you would have finished the second you added your two cents to the project. He was committed to dragging out your time though, wishing every second of your day would be with him.
It was foolish. He knew. The idea of the Devil falling for a puny human was a joke— sounded like it could only be a joke if Father cared to check in and see how his old fallen angel was doing. But Lucifer couldn’t help his feelings, despite his cold heart’s protest.
The nicknames of “girl” and “little human” were now “Y/N” and “darling”, interchanged after the other. His hands gravitated to innocently touch you for the smallest things now and his eyes always found their way back to your small figure, stubbornly sitting in the dumb child’s chair he made for you. Your laughter and smile were the bright lights in his immortal life now and joys from the pride he took in his job were sucked out of his own barely-there soul.
Whenever you encountered the true horrors of what he did every day, Lucifer would burn in shame at his acts. It had been a long time since he had felt regret in standing against Father and yet, all of that upheaval is brought back up with the looks of sadness and despair you have at the souls suffering from his hand. Lucifer suddenly felt wrong in his body, not feeling that desperate pull of pride in his all-godly powers now. And he knew deep down in his bones that if you were to leave him as well as his pride had gone, there would be nothing left of him.
“Lucifer?”
The call of his old name brings him out of his reverie. The labels of the names you call him have been ticking at his skin as well. It didn’t feel right, the way you believed the ire behind those titles. The furious wrath he had felt in which those names were created was stifled the more he was present in your company.
“Don’t call me that.”
The scrunching of the place between your brows appears from confusion. Expertly sensing a change in your recent companion’s mood, you drop still.
“But I’ve been calling you that for a while. You told me to—”
The Devil tightens his hold on the edge of his mahogany desk, head thrown down in hatred of the way you’re currently judging him. The way you will soon judge him for his sudden change in heart... at your realization of his wretched fondness of you.
“Forget what I said. Forget…” He finally manages to meet your gaze, which he was never afraid to meet before, “Forget everything I said.”
You shake your head, dumbfounded at Lucifer’s words. You didn’t know what he was on about. “I don’t understand what you’re—”
“I’m allowing you to leave. You can leave Hell. I’ll bring you back to Seulgi in your dorm myself.” His serious tone should have relief and happiness rushing through your veins. The opposite happens, confusion of your feelings flooding your head.
“I— wait. This is, this is all so sudden,” You stand up, and the last thing that Lucifer wanted you to do, you exactly did by approaching him, “What’s going on? Weren’t we just talking about the project a second ago?”
The scent of your lovely perfume floods Lucifer’s senses and he closes his eyes tightly to push down the want and desire to continue imprisoning you here.
“I’ve made up my mind. I— you just made me realize I don’t need you here anymore. You’ve helped more than you needed to.” Lucifer says, selfishly taking in the sight of you so close to him one last time.
“But—” You look back to your abandoned draft in the corner, “I didn’t finish.”
He dies to kiss away the pout on your lips but forces himself to hold back. Lucifer knew he was getting too attached; this had to stop now.
“It’s time you head back to your real home, girl.” The bringing of the old name stings and you don’t know why. It felt like all the hard work you had put in this past week and a half were all gone.
You should feel ecstatic you’re leaving this place. So why did a big part of you want to stay, despite everything?
It takes a while before you can gather words on your tongue and voice your agreement. Lucifer can read the thoughts in the head without trouble and his weak heart aches at the troubling questions brewing in your mind. Before you could realize what you felt for the Devil himself, he should cut you off. To spare himself the pain.
It would never work out anyway. He thinks.
“I uh... Okay, yeah. I— I’ll go back, yeah. I have a shit-ton lot of homework to catch up on.” You try to joke, sending a light smile Lucifer’s way.
At that, he goes around his desk to stand before you, gently grasping your hand which held his brand on your soft skin. The raised sigil is all healed now, with you unknowing of the healing he had placed on you soon after it was branded on. Rubbing at the skin with his thumb, the anchor that was keeping you here on his accord all but brushes away as he continues stroking at it. His warm touch eventually makes the whole symbol go away on your wrist and you gasp at the sight.
“You’re free from me,” Lucifer says, the underlying sadness beneath the uttered sentence pulling at your heartstrings.
“So… that’s it? I’m… I’m going back?” Making sure, you connect gazes again with Lucifer, confirming it as he nods.
“Yes but—”
The Devil was a selfish man, wasn’t he? He felt disgusted in his own body, asking you to do something you didn’t know the true power of doing but… Lucifer needed it. He needed to hear his real name leave your lips, just if this was the last time he ever saw you in the flesh.
“— Do me one last favor?”
You nod wordlessly.
“Say my real name?”
Your fast heartbeat races in your throat, choking out, “Your real name? Isn’t Lucifer—?”
“My angel name… please?”
Those ruby eyes you’ve grown to stop fearing and instead feel comforted by, turn to that candy red when looking at you.
“Say... Taehyung.”
Taehyung. That’s a pretty name.
Droplets of tears form at the corner of his wide eyes and he smiles into that charming heart watery at your unfiltered thought.
“Taehyung.”
And with that, in Hell’s Wednesday evening, you’re transported back into your dorm room with Seulgi still curled trembling on her bed, terrified to death. You realize belatedly that no time has passed at all here. Ignoring Seulgi’s scared figure, you blindly reach to sit down in your desk chair, head throbbing because of thoughts of who you had suddenly grown attached to in Hell.
The Devil’s real name was Taehyung.
