-`𝙤𝙗𝙚𝙮 𝙢𝙚´-

DIAVOLO’S BALLS WERE, quite literally, to die for. Being stuffed with human world food and not the barely-tolerable food that any of the brothers tried to cook for you made a vast difference with your demeanor as the night wound down to just excitable conversation and enthusiastic advances on Asmo’s part.

While you always found Asmo’s attention nothing more than him showing his interest or playing with you, tonight he was a little more intense--or, for lack of a better word, handsy. More so than usual, besides, and he was on you all night. If it hadn’t been for Simeon dragging him off of you to turn him towards Diavolo, who wanted his thoughts on a different festival solely for demons, you would have exploded… And not in a good way.

Just remembering his fingers dancing across the skin of your shoulders was almost vomit inducing.

Asmo was your friend--you saw him as nothing more than that.

So that was why, as Lucifer became increasingly distracted and showed no signs of leaving early, you had sequestered yourself to an empty drawing room, sipping your champagne and kicking off your heels. A fire crackled softly in the corner, no doubt by Barbatos’ doing to beat out the chill that seemed to creep in at night in the Devildom, and the curtains had been parted to expose the oddly artificial sky above.

“It seems we had the same idea.” From behind you, Solomon’s voice was smooth, as it always was, but tinged with a hint of exasperation that told you he had been at Asmo’s mercy as well. He swept up beside you with nary a sound, his cape absent and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His hair was in disarray, as if he had run his hands through it too many times, and those steely gray orbs weren’t twinkling with that normal streak of mischief that you were used to. “Do you mind?”

Your stomach twisted with a pleasant jolt when his hand slid to rest lightly at the small of your back.

He pointed to the second glass of champagne you had stolen. It sat innocently on the windowsill where you had placed it, bubbles creeping up the sides of the glass without prompting.

“Sure,” you replied, picking it up and handing it to him. “I’m guessing you had an encounter with Asmo if you’re here and not out wheedling pacts from the other brothers.”

Solomon gave you a dry look. “Very funny. But to answer your guess, yes, I did. He’s had several more horns of demonus already and is becoming intolerable.”

You nodded your head and tilted your glass towards his. The edges clinked softly, accenting the crackling fire in the corner. “To the humans.”

He didn’t answer your toast, merely watched as you tossed the final swig of your drink back. His eyes darted downwards to follow a bead of champagne that spilled down your chin and throat, vanishing between the soft curves of your breasts. The hand on your back became a little firmer, a little more restrained.

Your breath stuttered in your lungs while you swallowed, meeting Solomon’s gaze when it tracked back up to your face. His eyes were alive, now, practically burning; there was no trace of exhaustion in them now. The tension that was suddenly present came with a swift brush of ozone and the smell of a storm on the horizon.

Magic.

“Are you expected anywhere in the next hour?” he asked quietly. His voice had dropped several octaves, deep, and stroked at the embers sitting firmly in your gut that were threatening to ignite into a wildfire. You couldn’t stop the tremor that went through your legs when he pulled you close to him, pressing flush against you, one hand reaching up to brush his thumb against the swell of your lip. His hands were rough, but not entirely unpleasant. He leaned close, breath fanning over your ear and traveling down the side of your throat. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

You managed to squeeze out a breathy,”No.”

Both hands dropped down to your waist, squeezing firmly, fingers digging into your hips beneath the dress. His grip became strong, possessive, greedy; his lips moving from your jaw to the corner of your lips, pressing impossibly soft kisses to the skin of your cheek.

“Good.”

Solomon’s kisses were heated, slow, and painstakingly passionate. You weren’t sure if it was from the alcohol, but all you could taste on his lips was the faint flavor of the champagne and a sweet mint that he had no doubt been gnawing on all night to keep the awful tang of demonus from lingering on his tongue.

With an ease that surprised you, he lifted you to sit on the windowsill, nudging himself between your legs. Your dress made way for him, the slit panels riding up your thighs as he pressed you up against the glass of the window, teeth dragging against your bottom lip teasingly.

You remained there well until the party was over, only returning to reality when you could hear the shouts of Mammon and Beel turning down the hallway to the drawing room. Solomon groaned softly, having heard them before you did, and parted from you with a long, lingering press of his lips against yours.

The sorcerer took a moment to take in the flush of your cheeks and your swollen lips, abused and deliciously red. He couldn’t resist leaning back in and dragging the flesh between his teeth, relishing in the quiet moan you let out unbidden.

“Go,” he said, sweeping his hands down the sides of your thighs as he removed himself from between your legs. You almost whimpered at the loss of warmth, unable to stop yourself from squeezing your legs together to relieve the pounding heat in nestled within your core. Solomon’s eyes drew a lazy path down your body, a smirk making its way upon his lips as you hopped off of the sill uneasily. “Before they find out what you were really up to.”

Your pout almost made him snatch you back up in his arms and splay you out upon the couch you were leaning against to put your shoes on.

“What if I want them to?” You inquired dazedly, tying off the last strap of your heel with a flourish. You approached him, as much as your brain was telling you to back off in a cloudy haze of lust, and rested your palms lightly against his chest. His heart beat hard underneath your fingers, a direct contrast to the cool expression on his face. “Hm?”

Solomon grasped your wrist in one hand and pressed a kiss to the knuckles of your hand. “There’s a time and a place for that, but tonight isn’t either of those things. Go back to the House of Lamentation, [Name].”

Your stomach rolled with heat. It was probably the first time he had ever said your name outright and not just ‘fellow human’. You were about to yank him down and kiss him with all you were worth, when Mammon’s voice drew close enough that it rang in your ears.

Solomon’s smile was absolutely sinful when he leaned down just as the door slammed open to whisper,”You know where to find me.”

And then he was gone in a flash of bright light, the only indication of him ever standing there in the room with you being a half empty champagne glass and the lingering scent of rain on the horizon.

Find him, you would…

She pointed lazily to the broken dagger blade laying across from her in the alleyway. Even detatched from its hilt and the hand of the owner, it glimmered dangerously with golden runes along the flat edge, lethal to any demon who touched it except for her. Her human blood came in handy sometimes when she wasn't being hated for it.

"Yes, well, what can I say?" He shrugged. The earrings in his ears glinted under the artificial light of the lamp post outside the door. "I'm the patron demon of sadism."

"Good point." [Name] took a final drink and crushed the can in her palm. She rocked forward onto her feet, wiping her hands on the legs of her pants. Another pair ruined with demon blood. "He should heal up just fine now that that's gone."

"What do I pay you?" Zotiel crossed his arms and leaned against the door. She clearly wasn't going back inside. "Lucifer says you're very expensive to work with."

"Did he?" She laughed and toed off her shoes. Those were ruined too, doused in the blood her patient had vomited when she palpated his stomach. The white was indiscernible from the dark liquid. "Let me keep that blade and I'll consider it paid."

"Deal." Zotiel smiled, holding his hand out to shake. An oddly human gesture, but she accepted it anyways, not the least bit shocked when he squeezed hard enough to make her knuckles turn white. He inhaled deeply, much to her disgust and amusement, eyes fluttering shut. When he opened his eyes again, he gave her a tiny shrug, but wasn't apologetic in the least. "Sorry. Your pain smells amazing."

"I'll take that as a compliment." She pulled her hand free. "Or should I be concerned?"

"No. It was a compliment." His smile grew wider, his eyes darker. "You have my number if you want to explore it a bit more."

Not in this lifetime. She smiled at him one last time, turning on her heel and scooping up the dagger as she went. "Thanks for the offer, but no thank you. I'm going to head out now. Drop by if you're ever in the human world."

"Doubtful, but I'll keep it in mind. See you."

When [Name] was safely around the corner and far away from the storage building, she breathed a sigh of relief. Dealing with Zotiel had been a pain⏤Lucifer loved sending her on jobs that involved the demon, whether she wanted to or not, and got a sick kick out of every interaction she had with him. There had been far too many times where Zotiel got way too close for comfort and inflicted some kind of pain on her, even if it was something as simple as a pinch or poke.

If she'd had a choice, she wouldn't touch him with a thirty foot pole. And for extra measure, another ten feet, because she wasn't sure how far his range extended for sensing her pain. He'd even admitted, shamelessly, to finding even her emotional pain arousing.

The disgust she had felt when he told her that had followed her all the way to Lucifer's office.

"Ugh." She rubbed away the chills that raced up her arms and flicked out a cigarette from her back pocket. She never smoked often, but stressful situations like that one had her nerves on fire. It was why she had never completely dropped the habit, even after going cold turkey. "Why do I even bother?"

[Name] knew why she bothered. Without the underworld, she was nothing. Without the Devildom, she was nothing. The measly human side of her would fizzle away if she didn't have the Devildom to return to. It was the only thing keeping the awful urges at bay anymore. No one could pick out just what she got her power from, but she was abnormally powerful even for a half breed, alluring to even purebloods like Zotiel.

She had tossed around ideas like death or regret, but none of those seemed possible, seeing as she would be infinitely more powerful than she was now if that was the case. Whatever it was, it didn't require physical contact like Asmodeus, or the overabundance of eating like Beelzebub. It just was, and seemed to exist everywhere she went, even in Devildom.

[Name] shook herself roughly and took another puff of her cigarette. She didn't have time to bother with the origins of her power. She had to get to Lucifer's office, report her success, and return to the human world, take a quick three hour nap, and repeat it all over again. If she wasn't half demon, she would be dead ten times over already. Her stamina was astonishing, her lack of sleep even more so.

Luckily, no one questioned the back-to-back forty eight hour shifts she took without a wink of sleep.

She reached the House of Lamentation in record time, pocketing the dagger where no one could see or even sense it. One of her sorcerer friends, Solomon, had been kind enough to provide her with the spell to hide such a relic, but only after he wheedled a pact out of her and promised to only use it if he was dying.

To her surprise, she found Asmodeus and Mammon on the front steps, one sulky and the other irritated, glancing back to the door every so often. They would meet gazes, then look away, and repeat the entire thing. She wasn't even sure they heard her walk up until she was right on top of them, scaring Mammon to the point where he looked like an agitated cat, jumping a few feet in the air.

"Damnit, [Name]! What do ya think you're doin'?!"

"[Name]!" Asmodeus cooed, vastly more excited to see her, his pout taking a one-eighty as he cocooned her in a tight hug. The kiss he pressed to the side of her neck was a greeting at this point, even when he lingered a bit too long for her comfort. "It's so nice to see you again! I was worried Lucifer had fired you when you didn't show up for the raid last week."

"Could'a used your help then," Mammon supplied, in that same accusatory tone. He shoved Asmodeus aside and brought her into a hug of his own, though, even though he was as stiff as a board. He had taken to doing that after she yanked a spear out of his stomach and kept him from bleeding out by loaning him some of her power when he was worryingly weak. "Beel got sick an' Belphie took out a few minions."

[Name] patted his back and smiled when he parted from her, retreating to what she assumed was a comfortable distance for him. Any closer and he'd probably combust on the spot. She scratched her nose, cringing at the smell of blood. "Sorry, I was busy that whole week. My mother hasn't been the best lately."

"Oh! Mrs. [Surname]!" Asmo cheered. He knew the demon woman from a few centuries ago, she remembered, after she'd nearly snapped his neck for getting too close to her with the intent to seduce her. "The patron of disease. How is she?"

"Ya know she could just come back down here," Mammon suggested, leaning against one of the stone statues dotting the front lawn. "That's probably why she ain't feelin' too hot."

[Name] shrugged. "You know I can't make her, and besides… She refused. I do what I can. But why are you both outside?"

Asmodeus went sulky again. "The king released the prince from his bonds last week. If you'd been here, you would have heard everyone gossiping about it! And he's quite good looking, If I have to say myself⏤"

"Lucifer did somethin' to get on his bad side," Mammon finished. He tried to look unconcerned, but she could pick out the worry on his face like a beacon. "Somethin' 'bout defyin' him."

"Lucifer and his insufferable pride," she sighed. She rubbed her forehead, uncaring about the blood smearing across the skin. She could only imagine what Lucifer had told the prince. "Anything else I should know?"

"Yes!" Asmodeus raised a finger. "You probably shouldn't go inside. I don't think Lucifer wants the prince to know you're here, or that you even exist. I'd suggest just going topside and reporting in later."

[Name] groaned. "I have a shift tomorrow, I can't do that. What's so bad about this Prince, anyways? He can't be that bad…"

Asmodeus and Mammon exchanged glances.

"Uh… He's pretty bad." The demon of greed screwed his face up as he recalled something. "I keep reportin' to him, so I'd know. I think ya should be careful around him. He's even got Luci on a tight leash."

Lucifer on a leash was something she couldn't imagine. But with the way that her two friends were talking about him, she figured she'd better take them seriously and just report later, like Asmo had said. She sighed and stretched out her arms, preparing her power to teleport back to the human world.

"Well, I guess I'll just report later." [Name] shrugged and let Asmo pull her into a quick side hug in farewell, feeling the uncomfortable sensation of pulling on her magic reserves. "It was nice to see you two. I'll be back when⏤"

Her mouth froze when the door opened and power pushed past the wards protecting the house. All at once, her teleportation spell fizzled out and she was out of breath, suffocated by the energy that swelled past the barriers. Asmodeus's face twisted up into worry and slight horror, reaching over to steady her before she really lost her balance and face planted.

Not even Lucifer managed to overpower her like this, and he had been one of the first angels, once upon a time. Or he was at least stifling his to where she could converse with him comfortably without succumbing to her baser instincts⏤the demonic side that always purred at the thought of power.

Lucifer came out first, but he wasn't the source. His energy was calm and cool, most of the time, and not boiling hot, as if she were standing too close to a fire in an insulated jacket. He was frowning, displeased, and it deepened even further when he caught sight of her steadying herself on Asmo's arm, winded.

The demon inside her was unusually quiet.

"Whatever ya do, don't provoke 'im," Mammom advised, moving to her other side to rest a firm hand on her shoulder. He completely ignored the bits of gore left on her scrubs. "Don't talk unless he speaks to ya. Just be quiet. He'll ignore ya."

It didn't stop the dread creeping up her legs like phantom chains.

Out next came the source of the power⏤the topic of their discussion.

The Prince of Devildom.

[Name] was sure that if she wasn't so winded, her breath would have hitched at his appearance. He was tall, a few inches more than Beel, and he was already tall enough. His skin was golden bronze, nearly the same color as Mammon's, unusual as nearly everyone else was as pale as the moon. His hair was a deep crimson, reminiscent of fresh blood, and even from her distance, she could tell his eyes were a bright, burning gold.

Her fingers tightened in Asmo's bicep. He mistook it for fear and patted her knuckles soothingly.

His clothes, though, were spattered with blood. The white shirt he wore was ruined beyond saving, and behind him, a butler held a blazer in his arms, stone faced and nonchalant. [Name] probably admired his physique more than she should have, gradually regaining her breath and watching the muscles in his arms flex when he crossed his arms.

He was terrifyingly handsome.

She nearly forgot she was supposed to be breathing for a moment.

The prince ignored Lucifer entirely, a slight that showed as he walked past the former angel and walked down the steps at a leisurely pace. His butler followed, his own power nothing to scoff at, and she realized, belatedly, that they were walking towards them.

This time she felt Asmo and Mammon's grip on her tighten, not her own.

Her concern was for nothing. They walked past without a glance in their direction, the butler not even regarding them with a glance.

She sighed in relief. It was too soon.

[Name] heard a quiet sniff and it didn't belong to Mammon or Asmo. Lucifer's face drew tight. The demons beside her stiffened.

She should have known it wouldn't be that easy.

The prince paused half a foot from them, his head tilting towards her direction. The butler moved as he turned on his heel, poised easily to look back at her halfway.

[Name] swallowed the curse that was bubbling up in her throat.

"A half breed?" She felt his scorching gaze sweep up the length of her body, from her toes to her head, lingering on the blood dyeing her arms red, then at the necklace on her throat. Her mother's necklace. She had to fight not to tuck it in her shirt. "I didn't know Lucifer kept half breeds in his employ."

"Yes." The butler nodded. "A recent addition. A healer."

Asmo's quiet intake of breath wasn't lost on her. Clearly this demon had some sort of knowledge that they didn't.

"What's your name?" Those eyes were fixed on her again, boring into her own like molten gold. Now she really couldn't breathe.

Mammon's tightening grip on her shoulder, close to fracturing bone, told her to answer.

"[Name]," she answered, but it was strangled, breathy as she struggled underneath the power he was letting off. His eyebrows lifted, ponderous, then he turned away. She felt as if someone had left her out to melt on a hot sidewalk.

"Pretty name." His mouth quirked up, just a bit. "Let's go, Barbatos."

[Name] melted just a little more.

And then they were gone, like they had never even been there to begin with. She took a breath and slumped against Mammon, who was for more rigid than Asmo, and rested her hand over her chest, wincing at the ache from having her breath stolen for so long.

"This is bad," Mammon sighed, wrapping his arm around her back when her legs went wobbly. "Really bad."

"Definitely." Asmo shook his head in agreement. "Let's get you inside, [Name]. You can report while you recover."

The whole walk inside, those golden eyes haunted her.

Diavolo glanced back towards the metal door to the questioning room almost lazily, then looked towards the city lights once more. He completely skipped over Lucifer entirely, favoring the tender skin on his hand instead. "It's rare that I get to take in the frivolities of the human world like this. It almost makes me miss it."

"I wasn't aware you favored the human realm." Light. Deceptively curious. "Or that you frequented it enough at all to lament the loss."

"I never said that I did."

"I didn't accuse you of anything, Diavolo."

"You were thinking it." The redheaded demon shrugged off his blazer and tossed it over the back of a plastic chair. His crisp white shirt was now stained dark red with blood, drying to an unusual hardness, and flecks of it still clung to his face, some fresh and some old. "I'll need to buy a new wardrobe after this."

"Beel did tell you to let him take over," Lucifer reminded him gently, as if he were dealing with a different beast tonight. Which he was; Diavolo might have hid it well, but underneath the cool admiration of the city, he was boiling with unspent rage. "But no. You kept going, and still keep the reminders, I see."

Diavolo narrowed his eyes. He swept up his sleeves, drenched in blood from the wrist up, and pinned them at the elbows. "It keeps me from reverting to my baser instincts. Which you would know nothing about, seeing as Mammon draws it out of you on a day to day basis."

"You're being short with me. Should I worry?"

"Don't ignore what I just said." The prince patted his back pockets and pulled out a soiled cigar. He examined it in the dim light of the moon and shrugged, placing it between his lips and flicking it to a light with his power. "Mammon isn't as stupid as you think he is, Lucifer. I gave him to you for a reason."

"Yes, well… he has yet to prove that." Except the slightly guilty expression on his face proved otherwise. "Or anything, really."

"Is that what you do?" Amusement⏤thin, but barely there, threaded with a demand for an answer. "Let him get under your skin until you can't take it anymore, then take it out on his flesh?"

"Diavolo…" Lucifer warned.

"Don't. I've seen the scars. The wounds he has when he reports back to me." He released a solid stream of smoke through his nose, taking pleasure in the bewildered look that the other demon sent him. "You didn't think I was just going to hand him over to you just like that, did you? I suppose you did, with that look on your face."

The sparkling lights of Japan seemed to dim in the face of the fallen angel's wrath. His anger was potent, his desire to hurt and maim rising to the surface, cracking that veneer of crafted elegance that he desperately desired to keep.

"What I do to my people is my business," he began, the beginning threads of his horns poking through the glamour,"not⏤"

"They're not your people. They're mine." Diavolo abandoned the kind façade with a sneer. It tired him to use it when there was no one else to witness it but Lucifer himself⏤the one who needed to be reminded of his place. "You're just a pawn on a chess board playing lapdog. Your life debt to me is forever; or did you forget about that little factoid? I'm sure Lilith would be disappointed in you."

The angel's entire body stiffened at the thinly veiled threat. The prince⏤the heir⏤was only serious when he wanted to be. And that tone, that wording… It put Lucifer on edge.

"Diavolo…" His voice was soft now, not tinged with the anger that he fixated on Mammon. "Please…"

"I got her out, like you asked." The demon prince leaned over the railing and inhaled a heady breath of smoke. Released it into the night air. "I got her a new life, like you asked. I stripped her of her demon and her status. I would think the least you could do was quit abusing your subordinates⏤or am I thinking too highly of you?"

"No." Lucifer was choked. "No, you aren't."

Diavolo huffed. He raked a hand through his hair, grimacing at the tugs and pulls from the dried blood. "Leave."

"What?"

"What I said. Leave. Go back to the underworld."

"And the human?"

"I don't care. Let Beel eat him. He was a waste of time, anyways." Another puff of smoke. "And Lucifer?"

The fallen angel paused outside of the balcony doorway. "Yes?"

"If you question me again, I'll be paying a little visit to Lilith. And I know you don't want that. Do you?"

No anger. Only fear radiated off of him now; and loathing.

"No."

"Good." Diavolo ripped the cigar from his lips and ground it into dust on the railing. "Now get out of my presence. Consider yourself banned from the human world until I feel like you've groveled enough."

And for Lucifer, the hit to his pride was enough. He sunk down into a portal without as much as a farewell, the entrance closing with an audible snap.

"Angels," the prince huffed, thumbing away the buttons on his shirt with practiced ease. "So loyal, and yet so very defiant. Maybe I should have killed that little Seraphim after all."

He lingered in the human realm for a few more hours, watching the glittering lights of the city once more, but the allure had vanished. All that was left was an immense void that he couldn't fill. Not even the bright lights of humanity could fill it.

Diavolo's mood soured. His knuckles suddenly felt tight, like he needed to hit something for a few hours more. To break bone, turn marrow into dust, obliterate souls and drown his enemies in their blood.