Kiss Their Feet, Part 2 

HYAKUYA MIKAELA

"I have a story and Lucifer going to kill me for it, but fuck it."

*already getting glared at*

"There was a fire in the kitchen and I ran to tell Lucifer and I burst into his room and saw him with no clothes on."

*instant laughter*

"You saw him naked?!" -Diavolo

"No, he had underwear on. But what was funny was he screamed when I entered."

*Lucifer already gotten up and is approaching them to cover their mouth, but they wiggle pass him and continue telling the story*

"He was getting dressed and the door just burst open out of nowhere it scared him. He immediately covered himself with his blanket on his bed and started yelling at me, but I was too busy laughing in the doorway after hearing him scream."

*the brothers are now protecting them from Lucifer as he getting flustered*

"He threw a shoe at me and told me to leave and I tried to tell him about the fire in the kitchen through my gigging. He got what I wanted to say and had to throw on a robe before handing the fire. It's one of my fondness memories."

Some tokyo revengers sketches while I was on vacation ^^

When i say asmodeus is a little evil in a fun silly flirty way this is what i mean i think ppl make him just a little too Normal like there isnt something off . Like normal stable upstanding devildom citizens do not say shit like that .

not to be basic but 😳 do you have any thoughts on the demon brothers courting MC? Like any specific Devildom culture aspects that come into play? (Maybe something SUPER important that MC writes off as “oh huh. wonder why my ~friend~ is all nervous today”.) wink wink romantic demon tension wink wink.

Apologies for the long wait on this but YES, we love thinking about Devildom culture(s) and possible traditions, and courting ones are certainly fun to imagine!

We've come up with a handful here (plus a special bonus at the end), so we hope you enjoy them!!

(You can see a follow-up of mini-stories with the characters we missed here!)

DEVILDOM COURTING

Sharing Bloodseed Fruit

There are a few different kinds of fruits in the Devildom that can have romantic meanings when shared with someone you're interested in.

Bloodseed fruits, which vaguely resemble human-world dragonfruits on the outside and pomegranates on the inside, are the most popular of these by far.

The number of seeds you each eat is meant to be representative of how long you will stay in love with one another.

The average bloodseed fruit has around 1,000 seeds in it, with especially large ones able to have up to 1,500 seeds.

Which of course means the demon brothers and royals aren't going to settle for anything less than the largest ones they can possibly find to share with you.

Favored by: Diavolo, Lucifer, Beelzebub

It's not uncommon for Diavolo to invite you over for tea. Today, however, you've scarcely seen any sign of his loyal butler, aside from a single moment where he delivered both tea and a much smaller plate of sweets than usual.

"Does Barbatos have a lot going on today?" you wonder aloud.

"Oh, no," Diavolo laughs. "He's keeping his distance today out of respect for me. You see, I invited you over for...something rather special."

He takes your hand then and places a massive, spiky-looking fruit onto it. "I suppose you wouldn't be familiar with this, but this is a bloodseed fruit. They're rather rare, but we have a legend here in the Devildom that lovers who share one will stay in love for how many seeds they each eat," he explains. "And so, MC...would you do me the honor of sharing this with me?"

Matching Makeup

In the Devildom, there are certain patterns that one paints on their face that are based on their yearnings or desires, or signify something about the wearer.

These looks are usually only worn for special occasions -- and there is one event in particular where if you wear a certain matching makeup look with another, it signifies being together.

The Bacchanal of Illumination is a special time in the Devildom, where a variety of colorful demonic flora bloom and glow with an ethereal light once every few centuries.

Since ancient times, it has been customary to celebrate the three day window in which these flowers bloom with great revelry, parties thrown throughout, and imbibing an intoxicating drink created from the sap found in these flowers from past seasons.

It is considered good luck if a couple finds a flower in these fields the exact shade of the makeup they are wearing, signifying a healthy and long relationship.

Favored by: Lucifer, Asmodeus, Barbatos

"There we go, now we match!" Asmodeus giggles with delight, finishing the last flick of makeup over your cheek before turning you around to his mirror with a flourish. "Let's go show the others, hm, darling?"

You nod enthusiastically, excited to head out for this festival that everyone has been talking about lately. You've hardly taken two steps into the common room, however, before the rest of the brothers alternately gasp and/or pounce on the Avatar of Lust.

"ASMO, WHAT THE FUCK!" Mammon shouts. "Why the fuck does MC have that makeup, you bastard --"

"Because they're mine, of course," Asmo just grins back cheekily, draping himself possessively all over your shoulders. "Should have done it yourself if you wanted them!"

Offering a Passiflora Hellbloom

Purple and white with a crown of barb-like vines around a protruding spike ending in an eye-like orb, these Devildom flowers can look quite bizarre to humans at first glance.

However, if offered to a love interest, they represent passion, affection, sweetness -- and agony, if the recipient refuses it.

You see, giving a single flower of this kind to someone is seen as equivalent to asking them to be in a relationship with you, and accepting the flower is to accept the relationship.

The giver can also cast a spell before giving it, where if accepted, the flower will then actually undergo a second blooming where it sheds the vines, and the spike opens up into a set of brilliant petals.

Favored by: Mammon, Diavolo, Leviathan

"Ahhhh, that was fun!" you exclaim with a stretch, ready to head to bed after a long night of gaming with Leviathan. "It's late though, I should probably get to sleep. Good night, Levi!"

"A-a-ah, MC, wait!!" he calls out to you just before you reach his door, his voice unintentionally almost a shout with nervousness. "Wait, I have something for you." He pulls a long, thin stem of a bizarre-looking flower from somewhere in his room and thrusts it towards you.

"Oh, what a...nice flower," you smile politely, taking it from his hands.

"Y-you'll really take it?! I know you probably don't want this from me, but you'll really accept it?" His words are gushing out with excitement.

In his excitement, sadly, he forgets to tell you what the flower actually means. But Asmo will be sure to tell you when he sees it in your room tomorrow.

Passing a Red Candle

Candles can often be symbolic in magic, and the Devildom is no exception.

Red candles, in particular, are known for representing the fire of love and passion.

For this reason, when a demon gives someone a red candle, it's akin to a confession -- essentially, they are "giving the fire of their love" to another.

The House of Lamentation, by the way, has a lot of red candles that just happen to be sitting around all the time...

Favored by: Lucifer, Leviathan, Satan

"Oh, Lucifer, perfect timing," you say as he enters the dimly lit library. You quickly thrust the plate of the red candle you were holding into his hands, explaining, "Would you hold this for me for a sec? I'm trying to get this book out, but it's so firmly wedged in here, it's a bit stuck, and I didn't want to put the candle somewhere where it could fall over."

The barest hint of a blush crosses his expression before it's quickly replaced with a mischievous smirk.

"Oh? MC, you ought to be careful who you give a candle like this to in the Devildom," he murmurs, placing a finger under your chin to turn your gaze back to him. "Or I'll have to take this as a sign you mean to surrender yourself to me."

Written Story

For demons, giving someone their grimoire is the ultimate sign of trust, as it is akin to surrendering complete power to that person.

Long ago, demons sometimes actually gifted each other their grimoires as part of marriage ceremonies, though it has generally fallen out of practice at this point.

However, the sentiment of the act is still quite popular, and as a symbolic equivalent, nowadays demons will sometimes write down a story from their life as a gift to their beloved.

Especially popular is for couples to choose a story about each other, such as when they met, a special date, etc.

Favored by: Satan, Belphegor, Barbatos

Come up to the attic, the text you get reads. I have something for you.

Even after everything, it's still one of Belphegor's favorite places to nap. You gently push open the door, half expecting him to already be asleep, but even though he's sitting comfortably on the bed, he's definitely awake and looks uncharacteristically nervous.

"What's up, Belphie?" you ask, taking a seat next to him.

"I told you, I have something for you." He passes you an envelope patterned like the worn cover of an old leather-bound book.

Inside, there's a single slip of paper, with just a short handwritten story describing the night he made the pact with you. You tilt your head at him with some confusion. "Thanks...? It's very sweet, but...what's this for?"

"Trust." A small smile tugs at his mouth, though he himself hardly even notices. "I told you I believe actions speak louder than words, didn't I? So here it is. All of my trust."

Gifted Locket

A much more direct way of courtship, some demons have partaken in the tradition of gifting a locket to their intended partner.

While this might sound rather ordinary on the surface, there is something particularly special about these lockets -- they are imbued with a special, intimate magic.

When one opens the locket, it pulses with the other's heartbeat -- mirroring it in real time.

It also feels warm, as if you are holding the other's hand instead of the locket.

Favored by: Mammon, Beelzebub, Belphegor

Beelzebub has never really been one to particularly fuss about with over-the-top romantic gestures, but with his brothers all fighting over you all the time, he wants to do something to express his feelings to you too.

"I wanted to give this to you," he says sweetly, handing you a lovely red jewelry box.

Inside, you find a beautiful, intricately designed locket, and to your surprise, it quickly warms in your hand when you click it open. And even more surprisingly, it begins pulsing as well.

He holds his hands over yours, mirroring the warmth from the locket. "So you can hold my hand any time you want," he explains with a gentle smile.

"Thank you, Beel. It's wonderful." You rest your head against his chest, feeling how the rhythm of the locket perfectly matches the reassuring, steady beat of his heart.

The Boutonniere's Challenge

At high-class Devildom weddings, it's common practice to serve something called a boutonniere elixir, a special kind of sparkling demonus with a single flower floating atop.

On its own, the drink tastes somewhat plain, much like any other kind of sparkling demonus.

However, if two individuals hold the chalice at the same time, even for just a moment, the cup reacts by warming up to represent the strength of their connection -- the hotter it becomes, the better a match they are.

The demonus inside, in turn, also transforms, lighting up and bubbling over, and becomes infused with the taste of the flower inside.

It is considered incredible good luck for both the pair and the marrying couple when a chalice of boutonniere elixir is spilled from the abrupt searing heat.

However, due to the pain of burning their hands on the goblet, it is often referred to as the "Boutonniere's Challenge."

Favored by: Satan, Asmodeus, Barbatos

"What a beautiful wedding!" you remark, clinking your glass against those of the others around you.

Just then, someone bumps your arm, causing the cup to start to slip from your fingers when one pristine butler quickly rushes to catch it. But, at the sudden feeling of searing heat against your fingertips and blinding light against your eyes, it only serves to make both of you drop it. "Ow!" you cry.

To your utter confusion, this somehow sends a wave of applause rippling through the entire wedding crowd.

With an apologetic smile, Barbatos takes your hand and pulls you towards him, completely ignoring the fallen chalice. "My apologies, MC, I should have been more careful, but it would appear that the cups think we're a good match. Now...let me heal that burn on your fingertips. Perhaps with a kiss?"

BONUS: Ceremonial Proposal Knives

When one wants to propose in the Devildom, they do so with beautiful, intricate ceremonial knives.

At the base of the blade, the proposing demon inscribes their personal sigil on one side and the intended recipient's sigil on the other, making each knife unique to the pair.

The handles, which can be made of various magical materials -- bone, onyx, gold, the wood of a special tree, etc. -- are personalized with engravings.

These engravings can tell a small story, or just be very symbolic of the relationship the involved parties share.

What makes these knives most special of all is that it is customary to infuse a part of oneself into the knife -- whether it be a feather, a scale, their venom, or blood, they are giving a part of themself to you.

If the recipient chooses to accept, the two of them hold hands over the blade, cutting their palms open to form a blood pact in the shared wounds.

The shared blood then seeps into the blade, imbuing it with both their magical energies.

Mammon snapping

Set in the og timeline where MC never returned from their time travel

touch starved.

anyways before i forget.

coward!MC lesson 16 reactions,,, bro the angst potential there is so real idk even where to start.

i legit imagine,,, you're in such a state of abject terror and shock, like, you literally died, not a game, no joking, it HAPPENED, and no one saved you, belphie didn't stop, there was absolutely nothing you could do

first lucifer rejecting you, and then this. it'd be a massive setback to any kind of bravery you'd been able to muster because seriously, post lesson 16, literally fuck that. you could DIE, this is REAL, and you were stupid for ever forgetting that.

hhh just. satan, lucifer, mammon,, whichever other boys (i love me some dia so maybe him and barb, who probably deserves to feel at least a little responsible), knowing how much you suffer. trying to help.

HNNNNNG YOU WROTE MC'S TERROR SO FUCKING GOOD AND NOW THE ANGST POWER LIVES IN MY BRAIIIIN

strongly worded and more detailed letters to follow, love, elsey,

Coward! MC here

Hellfire tea sits cold in your lap.

The flames in the fireplace burn with vigour, bright and burning as expected of something like Hell. Mammon once threw a broken chair in there, to hide it from the eldest, and it reduced to ashes in front of your eyes within seconds.

The fire devour anything it gets.

Like that black tapir roasted to perfection by Satan. Babylon curry stirred by Asmodeus, with two pink hairclips that he put in place before beginning with the cooking and as he chirped "so that my hair won't be affected by the heat !," and the cheerful chatter in the air. Plans made and some promptly turned away (exploring all Devildom restaurants in a day might just lead to bankruptcy) and smiles which were not seen before.

And Quetzalcoatl brain soup stirred by a tall demon.

For his twin, of course.

Bony fingers that gripped the ladle and lips curling into a smile at the taste. Those same fingers around your throat. Tightening, not letting you breathe even when you begged. Black spots in your vision and a throbbing pain in your chest after having been thrown down the stairs. You must have broken a bone or two in there, but you're not sure.

You're not even sure why you are alive.

Belphegor laughs, and you freeze in your seat, fork with spaghetti twisted around it falling on the table with a plop!

You blame it on clumsy hands. And yet, your heartbeat can be heard by inhumane ears.

You stare at it with detachment, perhaps wondering if the piece of food will jump to life.

"Here," Belphegor says, passing you a plate of sushi. "I thought you would like it, since its from the human world."

You stare but smile, and when his fingers brush against yours you tremble.

"I missed out on a lot, didn't I?" He mentions with gaze half-lidded. "I want to catch up on everything."

You chew on rice and fish but the taste doesn't matter at the moment. The room is gigantic and you already dwarf in comparison. Eyes gaze at you in concern, but you pay no heed.

Did your death even get a mourning?

When Belphegor says your name, you nod and say yes.

Even when you beg yourself to say no and get out, out of the room where he is sitting and eating and you're dining with him and his brothers and you're dining with rejection and death in front of you and oh god you can't say no—

Your fingers dig into your thigh.

"MC, are you alright?" Asmodeus whispers, unable to avoid the way in which your hands tremble when Belphegor is near. You don't hear him, continuing to stare at the half-eaten sushi on your plate. Your heart pounds in your chest, the familiar tendrils of fear clinging to you as the seventhborn draws nearer.

"MC—"

He is barely able to place a hand on your shoulder before you jolt, throwing away your cutlery with a clang. The chair makes a noise that makes everyone else wince, following which you're gone and out of the dining room.

You're gone in a flash, footsteps fading with the door of your room slamming shut.

This is your chance.

Go back in time. Find out what helped Belphegor escape. Come back.

Sounds like a pretty neat plan.

"Thank you, MC." When Lucifer expresses his gratitude for your help, you smile in understanding.

Even after what has happened, you will show everyone that you can be better. That you're not the coward you used to be. After having faced rejection and cried outside the firstborn's door, writing on paper that tore due to how much you erased your work and after Lucifer's demon form towering over you. Teeth bared in a display of aggression, and the sickening thud that was made when Beel collided with the furniture.

And after all that has happened, things are finally looking up for you. You've fallen down many times, but you're learning to brush yourself and get up, persevere, and not shrink when faced with the slightest threat.

This is your chance, you affirm, clenching your fist. You can finally prove that you're worthy of respect, a value that you want to be admired for.

"Remember, you must not tell anyone that you are from the future, as well as me. That might end up warping history. Return after finding out the reason for Belphegor's escape."

The butler instructs, finger under his chin. You nod, flashing the demon a smile to let him know that you are prepared. Barbatos's warning echoes clear in your head as you approach the door, and open it, revealing a purple mist.

When you look back at the demon, his expression reveals nothing. Bidding him bye, you step forward.

You can't wait to return.

As soon as the haze clears, you find yourself in the hallway of the House of Lamentation. You pace around, trying to ascertain as to during which event you are here.

The sound of bickering catches your ears, and you step forward into Mammon's room.

"When you're silencing yourself, ensure to quieten that stomach too!"

"Hey! Don't ask me to do the impossible!"

"Lucifer and MC should have opened up to each other by now."

Your breath hitches in your throat as you take in Asmo's words. So the whole game with the firstborn was planned...

A smile forms on your face at the realisation, but it drops as soon as you remember that they don't know what will happen. Screaming and shouting. Bristled wings and snarls. Threats on your life. Careful to not make noise, you step forward to listen better.

And the sound of the empty can crushing beneath your feet is enough to attract attention.

Mammon's head whips around. "I didn't know you were in here the whole time!" He says in disbelief, and the others look on. You gulp, having the urge to get out of the room without explaining yourself, but you stop.

"Yeah, I followed Satan around.." You mutter, embarrassed, and the fourthborn frowns.

"See! I told you to be careful" Asmo complains, pointing a finger accusingly at his brother. "Now look what you've done."

The idea to make Lucifer and you talk again has not worked out, and the demon pouts.

Levi furrows his brows."You should see him." He says, and you nod, glad to get out and solve the mission. Back in the hallway, you hear faint voices, and on inspecting closely you discover that they're coming from the top of the stairs.

Where Belphegor is held prisoner.

"The old Lucifer wasn't like this! The old Lucifer didn't care what others thought of him!"

You don't hear a retort.

Perhaps this was one of the many reasons why you fell in love with Lucifer. Brave and confident of himself, willing to sacrifice himself for those who loves.

Something you wouldn't have been able to muster the courage for.

But you're growing. You're making progress, as small that might be. You no longer tolerate lower-level demons stepping up and stealing your lunch or bothering you in class. Grades are improving, and so are your relations in the house.

You don't want it all to shatter.

You don't want to pick yourself up again like that night.

Descending footsteps alert you, and so you hide.

And Belphegor's pleading voice for help is something you are unable to resist.

And so you step forward and open the door.

And so Belphegor embraces you.

And then he transforms.

"What—What the hell are you doing?!" You stammer, fear creeping in your veins at the sudden reveal of his demon form. "Belphegor, what exactly are you planning?"

When his hand curl around your neck, you scream.

He pushes you against the wall of the attic, your head colliding with the stone, further adding to your agony. The demon laughs, and you wonder if this is his genuine smile, finally revealed in a moment of cruelty.

"Don't blame me for tricking you, blame yourself for falling for it," He snarls, teeth too sharp and eyes too bright in the dim light. You struggle to breathe, your clawing and kicking of no use.

"Please," You beg, barely able to rasp out words when he squeezes your neck so tightly you fear he might just wrung it and kill you. "I don't want to—I—please d-don't—"

His smile is cruel.

"It's rather unpleasant, in't it? Being choked like this." Belphegor laughs, the sound throaty and cruel, and you feel your heart breaking further at the betrayal. You thought you were friends. You trusted him. You freed him.

All that courage you had gathered, all gone to waste. Your mission—failed. What you feared during your time in the Devildom is happening, and you can't even do anything to stop it.

You are about to die.

Your vision blurs with tears, and you struggle to breathe in his grasp.

Not this time. Not this. Anything but this. Please don't kill me.

His laugh still rings in your ears as your eyes close.

"Not my breakfast!"

Leviathan protests, unable to do anything but watch as Beel downs the rest of his food, miffed at his ignorance. He slams his hand on the table, and Lucifer frowns.

"Beel and Levi—"

The delicate normalcy in the room has been broken, and now it lies shattered like a thousand glass pieces that will be hard to pick up and will pierce skin.

If not of demons, than of a human.

The demon straightens his posture, realising that his presence has stopped the chatter that he had anticipated. Belphegor gazes around the room, and when he turns to look his brothers in the eye they don't meet his gaze.

"Come on," He drawls, pulling back the chair to sit down, the sound making everyone wince. "Continue."

He grabs his portion of bread and soup, but no one resumes their actions.

Indifferent, the demon takes a bite of the bread.

"So...are you going along with Belphie to school?" Asmo questions, hand resting under his chin.

Besides him, Leviathan announces that he will grab something to eat at the cafeteria, and the fading footsteps create a sound no one wants to hear.

Belphegor takes a sip of the soup. "MC doesn't have to go along if they don't want to." His expression reveals nothing; and your shoulders sag with relief.

You don't go with Belphegor to school that day.

But that doesn't spare you from his presence next to yours in the class.

Neither does the fact that you're sitting next to the demon that killed you once.

Has he brushed aside what happened so easily? And have the others done the same? You ask yourself as the professor demonstrates how to manifest magic circles. And rejection still sits bitter within you.

After that class is over, you have to go shopping for Diavolo's birthday. You're not sure if you'll be able to do that with Belphegor around.

Every step you take will have to be done with caution. Because you, foolish human, had forgotten that you were defenseless, with or without the pacts.

They knew what would happen when you would step into the portal.

Neither did you find someone who loved you.

Neither was your love returned.

The pain of rejection dulls in comparison to death, and even then you find yourself in shambles.

You were, after all, sent to your demise instead. You laugh at the fact, a low chuckle that breaks off into a crack at the end, and it doesn't help that Mammon winces noticing your expression of happiness is a bitter one. Nor is it true.

After running into the residents of Purgatory hall, you find that nothing escapes Simeon's gaze.

When he advices you to serve as a bridge for the brothers, you are tempted to cackle.

The angel quietens when he sees the dark circles under your eyes, and the way your eyes dart around the stairs, waiting for someone to strike. Instead Simeon breathes out, murmuring that you are welcome to come to Purgatory Hall whenever you wish. The angel doesn't know what took place, but he knows you're in turmoil.

"If you want someone to talk to, I'm right here." He departs with those words.

He leads Luke back home.

He doesn't know what to say.

And your vision blurs as they walk away.

Nothing can be said of this moment, nothing is left to say. Its silence silences.

Game night is not a peace-building activity.

Rather, it leads to chaos.

"Wrong decision Mammon! You could have had Ruri work as an idol and instead you've sent her to the casino!"

"She'll make more money and then you'll get more! Stop shoutin at me!"

"This was my videogame—"

The door slams open.

And then it begins.

"So you're telling me that Beel is feelin guilty because he didn't know you were being held..prisoner?"

"What else," Belphegor rolls his eyes, and when his gaze meets yours his expression is unreadable. He settles away from you, swiping a pillow from Levi's lap who gazes around the room, and placing it on his own. Although he's not touching you, his presence is enough to inspire fear. Your nerves stay on edge, body stiffening as you attempt to stay still and not shrivel besides him.

You want to go back to your room.

"Should we go and see Beel?" Mammon mutters in your ear, not wanting to let Belphie hear, but the action has you nearly jolting in your place.

Your eyes are downcast. "S-Sure," You whisper, voice low. "We should see him." You play with your thumb, refusing to meet either brother's gaze. The audio from the game stops playing, and the silence that follows starts to envelope the room in a heavy blanket.

The secondborn frowns.

"Ya alright?" He questions, eyes travelling over your form, inspecting for any injuries you might have been trying to hide or any signs of illness, but when he sees the way your hands tremble and breath runs ragged Mammon bends down.

"Let's go to your room MC, how about that?"

You nod, and let him lead the way.

When the door closes again, it is Levi's turn to gape at Belphegor.

"They're scared of you," He blurts out, unable to bear the silence. "MC doesn't want to be near you."

Belphegor stares at the tank in resignation.

Back in your room, Mammon dims the lights with a simple incantation that he heard Lucifer recite countless times. "Thanks," You say, voice muffled under the blanket. The demon smiles, his eyes looking unusually bright in the dark, but you brush it aside as a demon quirk.

"Anything for ya."

He turns to leave, ready to walk out the door and close it, then walk straight towards the end of the hallway where—

"Mammon?"

His name comes out in a whisper, and he stills.

"Could you stay?"

A smile. "Of course."

"Are you alright?"

Lucifer questions, and you tremble.

"I'm fine," You mumble, unable to meet his gaze. You don't have the courage to even look the demon in the eye, and so you stare at your notebook. "Just doing some assignments," You blurt, picking up a pencil in hopes of making yourself look busy. "We've got a test tomorrow in Hexes and Curses."

The demon eyes you, lips turned downwards and brows furrowed.

The man can see you trembling. The way your eyes flicker nervously over lines of text, or the way you keep fidgeting with the pencil.

You're scared.

And who's fault is it?

Who is responsible for your death?

Who is responsible for locking Belphegor?

Who is responsible for the fall from the Celestial Realm?

Who is responsible for destroying any courage you had gathered?

All these questions are screamed at him, and the war comes to mind. When others had believed in him, and he failed them.

He failed you.

Lucifer knows that it is him, and no other being. All that had happened to you are the consequences of his own actions. That after having finally gathered yourself from the pain of rejection, the pain of dying had finally torn down any remnants of your happiness and peace here.

And...would you even trust him?

The firstborn asks himself this question as he ogles your form; desperately trying to find a way for you or him to leave. Because he can't be trusted, not anymore.

And he can't even believe you when you say that you're fine.

"You should rest," He says, voice raspy. "The past few days have been....."

The demon winces, stopping himself before he goes and says something that will tear the manufactured normalcy you've been desperately trying to present.

You nod in return, muttering out a 'good night,' before gathering your notebook and scurrying out from the room. You can feel eyes burning holes in the back of your head; you can feel Lucifer staring at you, but you don't want to look back.

And as your footsteps retreat, Lucifer replaces the vacant spot you had left, on the chair.

He inspects the wood, eyes gazing over the material before he rests his head on it—too exhausted to do anything else. Too tired to try right now.

He's worsened your agony.

Gloves fingers pick up the pencil lying abandoned, and the firstborn stares at it. Your departure sets something in his chest throbbing with pain, and he knows it is love that he cannot speak about.

Oh, how the tables have turned.

He loves you. But it is an affection he does not have the courage to speak about, for his actions say something else.

Does he even deserve you?

Lucifer's throat tightens, and he refuses to acknowledge it.

His mind drifts back to the time when his brothers were creating a fuss about that Devilgram photo with you and Satan. How you both looked so happy and it was someone else who'd made you smile. How hard you had cried that night when he had rejected you and how scared you were after. How you avoided him after and how you must have cried and how scared you must have been when Belphegor killed you—

A garbled cry spills from his throat.

The sound Lucifer makes is something he's mortified to hear from himself. The man's vision blurs and all he can feel is the agony in his chest. His face is wet. And upon realising that the library isn't soundproof he casts an enchantment, through a tone that cracks in the end.

No one will be able to hear his cries now.

Your spirits have been crushed, and the MC he once knew is gone, replaced by one that had their spirits defeated.

Lucifer is witness to that. From watching you run away, leaving behind Beel and Luke in the underground tomb to standing in front of Diavolo, going back in time....and being rejected and yet bouncing back...there's no greater testimony than it.

He calls you to his room the night before you're supposed to leave for the human world.

You walk into the room to see Lucifer by the fireplace. The flames frame his features in a way which takes away your breath. It is in this moment that you're reminded that you are in a room with the Avatar of Pride and fallen angel, Lucifer himself.

You suppose there's no better time to be wary than now.

In hindsight, you should have never trusted them from the start. For who knew smiles and laughter would get you killed? So when the demon asks for you, it takes fifteen minutes itself to muster up courage to move.

And even more to stand in front of him.

"Come, sit down," He murmurs, gesturing to an empty couch across him. "Please make yourself comfortable."

The man attempts to make yourself feel relaxed in his presence, but you can't help the racing of your heart when you sit down on the plush couch, darting your gaze around the room, looking everywhere but in his eyes. When you finally do, look in his direction, you find that Lucifer is not scrutinizing you.

Rather, he's focused on the fire.

"I chose you as the exchange student for this programe." Lucifer declares, voice somber.

You fidget in your seat, not knowing what to make of his words. When he looks at you, your guts tell you to flee, yet you remain like a deer frozen in headlights.

"There were times when I regretted my choice."

Your heart sinks. You know Lucifer doesn't have the best opinion of you, you are pretty sure you are nothing more than a coward in his eyes, just a human to take care of for a year. A responsibility.

"But I made the right choice in choosing you." Lucifer smiles, and it is an expression full of warmth, unlike anything you've seen before.

"H-How?" You question, utterly bewildered and confused. "I thought you—that you—"

"That you had no value in my eyes." The man cuts you off, and you flinch. "That I had no respect for you." Your hands tremble, not knowing where this conversation is leading to. The door is right in front of you, maybe if you just excused yourself—

Yet another part wants to stay. Remain and listen to the demon. Lucifer's voice is soft. "I was wrong about you," He admits, smiling softly. "For you are someone to be respected."

?!

"Ever since the day I saw you in the Devildom, I assumed that you would be another hassle, another responsibility to take care of. And observing you during your first week here, didn't exactly put a decent impression of you in my mind."

You gape at the man, waiting for him to continue.

"You ran away from me in the underground tomb, and yet you went up the stairs that I stated were forbidden. I have seen you struggling with coursework, thrust into a new environment which you did not consent to have been put into..." He places a hand under his chin. "In hindsight, I should have been more understanding of your situation. I was the one to bring you here and you even got killed because of my mistake.."

"Don't say that."

He sighs, his shoulders sagging, and you've never seen Lucifer look more defeated.

"I have seen you grow. I assumed you were weak, a coward, and yet you grew and overcame your fears. You have helped me and my family immensely, and all I did was get in your way." He says, and your heart aches. "I've been cruel."

A sob chokes your throat.

"I am proud of you for what you have done and achieved, and I can never make enough reparations for what you had to suffer. But I swear I will prevent anything like this from occurring again." He gets up, suddenly, startling you. "And I offer you my pact as promise and as gratitude."

And as you watch, the Morningstar gets on his knees in front of you.

"Control over me as your demon, and you my Master," He mumbles. "Will you allow me the honour of making a pact with you?"

When Lucifer gazes at you with nothing but sincerity in his eyes, you have to blink back tears.

"Y-Yes."

The firstborn bows his head. "You will never have to fear me again." He swears. "And I will give you a reason to believe." And with that, you feel infernal magic flowing through your veins. A burst of energy so intense that it raises your heartbeat and makes you close your eyes momentarily.

When you open them again, you feel powerful.

For you have command over the Morningstar himself.

"Thank you," You whisper, placing your hand atop his own.

Satan has seen the way you carry yourselves now at RAD, an invisible presence amongst the crowd of chattering demons. Withdrawn and downcast. Despite the pacts, you were murdered.

He's seen you fall and rise, unwavering determination as you gathered courage and spoke up for yourself. Improved yourself and went against Diavolo, the literal Prince who few dared to oppose. You went back in time for all of them, and what did that get you?

Death.

But now you can barely muster any courage to even look him in the eye. Lucifer and Belphegor have made their pacts with you too in penance and forgiveness, but that is not enough to help the trauma inflicted upon you.

Satan doesn't know what to say now, seeing your downcast gaze and the way you tremble when Belphegor is near. He's seen you rise and fall, and seeing you destroyed makes Satan realise that he and his brother are all responsible for what happened to you. He loves you too; for seeing you strive to improve and overcome the fear that is justifiably humane, and observing you grow reminds Satan of himself.

But you've fallen down and been killed.

Therapy, he concludes one week before you're supposed to leave. It is perhaps the best option for you.

And all that on Diavolo's dime.

Lucifer and Satan had worked it out all together, and the Prince had readily agreed. He knew what would happen, and yet he allowed it.

One life in exchange for peace and order.

It sounds simple, but when you realise the weight it carries you can't bring yourself to do it. The man is a Prince, and with that title comes responsibilities and power more than anyone could fathom.

But did it give him the right to put you in a completely different realm and place an unwanted burden on your shoulders?

He muses, late at night when the moon is at its brightest. When he can't sleep, and the dark circles in the morning will surely concern Barbatos who won't hold back on a lecture.

But some questions won't stop bothering him.

Do you hate him?

Would you have hated him?

For what he's done to you?

Was he making the right choices?

Was he trying enough?

But he's still learning, still observing, still growing. He never lies.

And Diavolo doesn't ever want such a circumstance to occur. When he felt infernal magic radiating from you, so intense and of a magnitude that only the firstborn could muster, the Prince knew what had happened.

Pacts with the seven avatars.

Command over them.

Could....would you have forged one with him, if possible? Would you want to? He wants to ask, and yet Diavolo knows he can't make one even if you were willing.

Not yet.

But he'll work towards ensuring a world where he can.