Angel

I know this is short (and rushed), but I want to go into more depth with the next part and possibly the final part.

Mammon: Satan’s coming home today, so everyone behave, please. Lucifer… maybe give him some space.

Lucifer: I know. I am the last person he wishes to see right now.

Asmodeus (peering out the window): They’re here.

(The brothers, all except Lucifer gather by the door as Satan enters.)

Brothers (together): Welcome home!

Satan: Thank you… all of you.

Beelzebub (softly, stepping forward): I missed you. I made your favorite for dinner, Belphie helped me.

Satan: Where is Belphegor?

Leviathan: I saw him asleep in the garden earlier… I think.

Mammon (clapping his hands): Alright, enough with the mushy stuff. It’s your welcome-home party, dude! Music, drinks…You can drink, right? Whatever, we’re celebrating!

— Hours later, the house loud with laughter and music —

Asmodeus: Mammon, where’s Satan? I want to show him this nail color I’m thinking of trying on him.

Mammon: Think I saw him head toward the library. With Belphie.

Asmodeus: I’ll be back. Don’t drink all the demonus!

Mammon (already pouring): No promises!

Asmodeus (entering the quiet library): Heyyy, what are we whispering about?

Belphegor (flat): Mind your business.

Asmodeus: Wow, someone woke up grumpy. Take another nap. (turns to Satan) Look at this color, doesn’t it suit you?

Satan (distracted, polite): It’s nice. Could you give Belphegor and me a moment?

Asmodeus (leaving): Rude. Both of you.

Satan (after a pause, voice low): So… we’re killing him tonight, right?

Therapist: Good morning, Satan.

Satan (glancing sharply at Mammon): I don’t want to do this.

Mammon (exhaling): Just… try it, will ya? It helped the rest of us.

Satan: I’m not doing this. I’m not changing my mind.

Therapist: Changing your mind… about killing Lucifer.

Satan: He deserves it.

Therapist: And why do you believe he deserves to die?

Satan (gesturing at his IV line): Look at me. I’m in a hospital bed. He put me here. What part of that is confusing?

Mammon: He feels awful about it—

Satan: I don’t care. I’m already here. His guilt doesn’t undo anything.

Therapist: Mammon, may I speak with Satan alone?

Mammon (leaving, worried): Yeah. Just yell if he tries gettin’ outta bed.

Therapist: Satan, I’ve spoken with your brothers, except Belphegor and they’re all struggling with what happened.

Satan (arms crossed): As they should. What he did is unforgivable.

Therapist: No one has told me how the fight began. Would you tell me?

Satan (snorts): He hasn’t told you? And you still expect me to even consider forgiveness? Ridiculous.

Therapist: I want to understand. Please tell me what happened.

Satan: We were just talking. That’s all it started as.

Satan (walking into the library): …What are you doing here?

Lucifer (calm, reading with a glass in hand): I live in this house as well, Satan.

Satan (putting books away): You’re always in your study at this hour. Why are you suddenly here?

Lucifer: I wanted a change of scenery. Somewhere quiet to read.

Satan: Mm. Convenient, considering this is the time I come here.

Lucifer: I wasn’t aware this hour belonged exclusively to you.

Satan (finally sits, opening a book): What are you reading?

Lucifer: A text on celestial history.

Satan (mocking lightly): You don’t already know all that? Trying to relive your glory days?

Lucifer: Hardly. I’m interested in how they chose to portray the events.

Satan: And? Did they get anything right?

Lucifer: So far, yes.

A quiet beat. Then Satan’s tone softens, unexpectedly curious.

Satan (dry, needling): Right… the whole Lilith situation, isn’t it Heaven threw a fit because she chose a human.

Lucifer (calm, a touch bitter): They were furious. The Celestial Realm does not approve of relationships beyond its own kind. Not then, not now.

Satan: But you did.

Lucifer: If love doesn’t harm anyone, I saw no reason to condemn it.

Satan: …Still hurt plenty of people in the end.

Lucifer: That wasn’t the cause.

Satan: Right. You fell for “individuality and love,” isn’t that what you always say? Very noble. Very dramatic.

Lucifer: What are you implying?

Satan (leaning forward slightly, eyes narrowing): Well, if anything, she fought for love. You? You fought with your ego, didn’t you? You hated how the place was run, so you tried to rewrite the rules and everyone followed you because they trusted you.

Lucifer (tightening his jaw): That is not true. I fought for Lilith.

Satan (a small, humorless laugh): We both know that’s not true, Lucifer. Don’t forget... I come from you.

Lucifer (voice dropping, final): I’m done with this conversation.

Satan (tilting his head, mock concern): What’s wrong? Can’t handle the truth? You aren’t nearly as selfless as you think you are.

Lucifer (low, warning): Enough, Satan.

Satan (pressing, enjoying the unraveling): Come on, Lucifer. You know you would’ve fallen eventually. And you would’ve been alone down here. So you took the opportunity not to be the only one who fell.

Lucifer (voice cracking with anger he’s trying to suppress): That is not true, Satan. Stop talking.

Satan (shrugging, casual): The others had their issues, sure, but once they knew their place, they listened. You were the rebel. Even when you tried to pretend you weren’t.

Lucifer (standing abruptly, book snapping shut): I’m done with this conversation.

Satan (sing-song, needling): Aww, Lucifer, don’t be like that. I thought we were discussing celestial history. Like how you failed the only people who ever trusted you.

Lucifer (turning back, controlled anger): You don’t know what you’re talking about.

Satan (quiet, pointed): I don’t? Then why are they in Devildom? Why are they demons now? Why am I here?

Lucifer (voice low, trembling with restraint): You always think you know so much. You don’t.

Satan (smirking): I know just enough. Thank you.

Lucifer (voice hardening): You know what your issue is? You have no place of your own here, so you try to make everyone else feel as empty as you do.

Satan (snorts): Oh, trying to turn this back on me?

Lucifer (words sharper than he intends): You are nothing but a sad creature who was born with no purpose other than rage. The rest of us had destinies.

Satan (standing now, stepping into Lucifer’s space): And look what you did to their destinies. Look where you ended up. You overcomplicate everything because deep down you know they’re here because of you.

Lucifer (voice raised now, losing composure): I didn’t force them to be here! They saw injustice, and they wanted to fight for those who were different. To make a difference!

Satan (cold, inches from him): Right. And you used their trust to pull them into your war, because you wanted to stand equal to a god when you were nothing but an angel. Now look at you, a demon kneeling under someone else’s rule again. So tell me, Lucifer… what did you really accomplish?

Lucifer’s fist swings clean and precise, then connects.

Satan staggers, but instead of falling, he smiles through the pain, blood at the corner of his mouth.

Satan: Thought so.

Lucifer (returning the gesture): Good morning. You seem well.

Therapist: I am, thank you. And yourself?

Lucifer (sitting back slightly): I’ve been... nervous, if I’m being honest.

Therapist: Nervous? May I ask why?

Lucifer: Satan has recently regained consciousness. Which means, at some point, he’ll be coming home.

Therapist: And does that make you nervous because you don’t want him to return?

Lucifer: No, quite the opposite. I do want him to come home. It’s just that... the house has finally begun to feel peaceful again. I know that his return will undoubtedly stir emotions we’ve all been avoiding.

Therapist: Have you been speaking with your brothers since our last session?

Lucifer: A little, yes. Mostly small talk. Mammon has been overwhelmed with household chores, so he’s asked for my help a few times. Asmodeus greets me in the mornings when we cross paths in the kitchen. But that’s... about it.

Therapist: It’s still progress, even if it’s small. And what about Belphegor? Have you spoken to him at all?

Lucifer (shaking his head slightly): No. I haven’t seen him, nor has he spoken to me since that day.

Therapist: Do you believe he’d be willing to speak with me?

Lucifer: Most likely not. The only one he truly opens up to is Beelzebub. Perhaps if Beel were present, he might agree.

Therapist: That’s alright. I only wanted to be sure he has someone to confide in. And how have you been managing your anger lately?

Lucifer (composed): There hasn’t been much to provoke it recently. Most of my anger has always been connected to my brothers. But I’ve been reading the materials you gave me, the anger management guides and exercises.

Therapist (nodding): That’s good to hear. Have you begun working on forgiving yourself for what happened?

Lucifer (after a long pause): No... I don’t think I can. Not while he’s still in recovery.

Therapist (gently): Lucifer, I’ve seen you make remarkable progress during our sessions. I hope, in time, you’ll allow yourself the same compassion you offer to others. Forgiveness isn’t forgetting, it’s healing.

Later That Evening

Therapist (answering a call): Hello?

Mammon (rushed, breathless): Hey, sorry for calling outta nowhere.

Therapist: It’s alright, Mammon. Is something wrong?

Mammon: Yeah, uh, kinda. I wanted to know if I could schedule a session for Satan.

Therapist: Has he agreed to it? You know I can’t see him without consent.

Mammon: Listen, I’ve tried, alright? I’ve tried everything I could think of. But if you don’t talk to him, if no one does, he’s gonna kill Lucifer. The second he’s released. Hell, it doesn’t matter if he’s still hooked up to machines; he’ll find a way. Even if it means tearing himself apart to do it.

Therapist (sitting up): Mammon, that’s a serious statement. I’m obligated to—

Divider from @saradika-graphics

MC: You wanna make out? Leviathan: …With tongue? MC (leaning closer): We can do whatever you want. Leviathan: You’re scaring me…

MC: I got my first check! Leviathan: You better hide it. MC: Why? Leviathan: Duh, Mammon. He’ll start by asking for $2, and next thing you know, you’re broke. Mammon (from another room): I don’t need money, asshole! Beel (walking by, mid-bite): That guy’s a fucking liar. MC & Levi: Beel?!

Lucifer (without looking up from his book): What’s that behind your back, Satan? Satan: …Nothing. Lucifer (turning a page): So if I turn around right now, I won’t see anything? Satan (mouthing to Belphie): Abort. Take it and run. Belphie: (grabs the bag of cursed objects and takes off) Lucifer: … Satan: Well… technically, there was nothing behind my back when you turned.

MC (raising an eyebrow): Do you need that? Mammon (offended): Huh? Excuse me? MC: I said, do you need that. Mammon (scoffs): Tch—do you? MC (staring him down): What the hell, Mammon, were you about to fight me?! Mammon (hands up defensively): What? No! I’d never! MC (grinning): Right, ‘cause you’re a pussy. Mammon (instantly): WHAT?! MC: You know you wouldn’t win against me. Mammon (offended pride rising): Do you even realize who you’re talkin’ to?! MC: Yeah, yeah... the “second strongest demon” or whatever. The one I can still beat. Mammon (pointing): You wanna prove that?! MC (cracking knuckles): Let’s go then, bitch boy.

Mammon (walking past beel gorging): big back🎶big back🎶 Beelzebub (whipping his head around): HELLO?! Mammon (staring wide-eyed): Pfftt… I didn’t mean to say that out loud.

Beelzebub: Have you ever had a Krispy Kreme? Have you ever gone to Krispy Kreme? Lucifer: What is that? MC: Yeah… Beelzebub: Was it Krispy? MC: No? Beelzebub (disappointed): Right… right

Therapist (smiling politely, then subtly reacting to the scent of alcohol): It’s lovely to meet you, Asmodeus.

Asmodeus (smirking): So you’re the therapist everyone’s been talking about.

Therapist: Do they often discuss what happens in our sessions?

Asmodeus: Oh, no. They’re all terribly secretive about what they say in here, just about how much they like you. So naturally, I had to see what all the fuss was about.

Therapist (light chuckle): I see. And what would you like to talk about today?

Asmodeus (glancing around the room, pacing a little): Hmm… how about we start with the fact that my older brother beat our youngest so badly that he’s been in the hospital for two months, hooked up to a ventilator.

Therapist (after a moment): That’s… a lot to carry. How does that make you feel?

Asmodeus (dryly, incredulous): Are you seriously asking me that? How do you think I feel? I’m furious. I want to grab Lucifer by the collar and scream, ask him what the hell he was thinking. He blew everything out of proportion.

Therapist: What did he blow out of proportion?

Asmodeus: They didn’t tell you? Figures. We’re still not entirely sure what started it. We were all asleep when the fight broke out.

Therapist: Go on.

Asmodeus: By the time I came downstairs, everyone was already trying to pull Lucifer off Satan and Mammon.

Therapist: Lucifer was attacking Mammon as well?

Asmodeus (shaking his head): No, Mammon was shielding Satan. So yes and no. He was getting hit too. Leviathan and Beelzebub were trying to restrain Lucifer, and I joined them, but it was like trying to hold back a collapsing building.

Therapist: Was that your first time having to hold Lucifer back like that?

Asmodeus: Yes. The last time we fought was during the war. But that was with him, not against him. Seeing him like that, with rage in his eyes and no trace of reason it was terrifying. It reminded me how much stronger he’s always been than the rest of us.

Therapist: How did you manage to stop him?

Asmodeus: Mammon and Leviathan switched in to help. They dragged him outside while the rest of us checked on Satan. There was so much blood… it ruined my clothes completely. They were custom, you know. But… that was the least of it.

Therapist: It sounds like it was quite severe.

Asmodeus (quietly): The worst thing I’ve ever seen. Others outside called Diavolo and Barbatos, they managed to calm Lucifer down eventually. We called an ambulance for Satan. After that, the house went completely silent.

Therapist: What did you all do then?

Asmodeus: Diavolo took Lucifer with him. The rest of us… we just cleaned up. Beel and Belphie went to their room. Mammon, Levi, and I stayed behind to scrub blood out of the floors. The place looked like a crime scene. I suppose, in a way, it was.

Therapist: Have you spoken to Lucifer since that night?

Asmodeus (sighing): Hardly. Only in passing.

Therapist: Why is that?

Asmodeus: At first, I just needed to get out of that house. The atmosphere was unbearably heavy and quiet. Even Mammon stopped joking around. He’s been focused on taking care of Satan, which is good, but… I can’t stay there. Not with all those memories.

Therapist: And what happens when you do stay?

Asmodeus (bitterly): I get angry. I replay everything in my head and think, This could’ve been avoided.

Therapist: Avoided how?

Asmodeus: Lucifer was just arguing with himself! Satan knows exactly how to get under his skin, and Lucifer knows that. Why couldn’t he just walk away? It didn't need to end like this.

Therapist (gently): You sound very passionate about this.

Asmodeus (voice rising): Of course I am! They’re my brothers, for fuck sake, we shouldn’t be tearing each other apart. Do you know how many times I’ve wanted to fight them? But I didn’t!

Therapist: You’ve wanted to fight them?

Asmodeus (laughs bitterly): I think we all have, at some point.

Therapist: And what brings you to that point?

Asmodeus (after a pause, softly): Just look at me. I’m hideous.

Therapist (taken aback): You think you’re hideous?

Asmodeus (pulling a flask from his coat, taking a slow sip): I was gorgeous. If you could’ve seen me before… I know I still look good, I make sure of it, but sometimes, when I look in the mirror, I just want to tear off the horns and wings.

Therapist: So you’re angry at Lucifer because of how you became this way?

Asmodeus (shaking his head): Not exactly. Though I didn’t even want to fight. My brothers and sister needed me, and so I fought. And now, this is what’s left. A hollow, lustful version of what I once was.

Therapist: And who were you before?

Asmodeus (eyes glistening): I was the Angel of Beauty and Love. I was adored, radiant. My love wasn’t shallow; it reached everyone around me. I was light itself.

Therapist (softly): Have you ever tried to reconnect with that part of yourself?

Asmodeus (quietly, almost a whisper): I’ve tried. But no matter what I do, I always fall back into being Asmodeus, the Demon of Lust. Still… my brothers, they’re the only ones who remember who I really was. Who I still am. That’s why I love them so much… and why I want to hate Lucifer just as much. Because he should’ve known better.

Therapist (smiling warmly): Good morning, Beelzebub. It’s nice to finally meet you.

Beelzebub (smiling politely): It’s nice to meet you too.

Therapist: How are you feeling today?

Beelzebub (nodding): I’m doing well, thank you.

Therapist: I’m glad to hear that. Is there anything in particular you’d like to talk about today?

Beelzebub (glancing down briefly): Well, I’m sure you already know why my brothers and I have been coming to see you.

Therapist: I’m aware of their reasons, yes. But what about you, Beelzebub? What made you decide to come in today?

Beelzebub (visibly a little upset): Yesterday, Lucifer and Mammon got into another argument. It got a little overwhelming for me, so Mammon thought it might be a good idea for me to talk to you.

Therapist: I see. And what would you like to talk about in regard to that?

Beelzebub (fidgeting slightly with his hands): I’m not really sure where to start.

Therapist: Let’s start with yesterday then. What were they arguing about?

Beelzebub: Mammon was on his way to the hospital, and Lucifer stopped him to ask how Satan was doing.

Therapist: I understand. And how did that turn into an argument?

Beelzebub (sighing): Mammon’s been really tense lately. Any time Lucifer talks to him, he gets defensive, especially if it’s about Satan. So when Lucifer asked, Mammon said something like, “Oh, now you care?” and from there… they just kept trying to have the last word.

Therapist: Has this been the usual dynamic between them since the incident?

Beelzebub: At first, no one really talked to anyone. We all kept to ourselves. Well, Belphie and I talked, but that was about it. Lately, though, everyone’s been talking again… just not to Lucifer. I’m the only one who still does

Therapist: And why do you still speak with him? Are you not angry about what happened?

Beelzebub (sitting up straighter): I was. I still am. What he did is… unforgivable. We’re family, we’re supposed to protect each other. But after I spoke with him, I realized something. Lucifer’s always struggled, even before the Fall. So, in a way, I wasn’t surprised that he eventually snapped. I just didn’t think it would be at us.

Therapist: You mentioned that Lucifer had issues even before you fell. What do you mean by that?

Beelzebub: It always felt like he was putting on an act. He was an angel, yes, but he had his own mind, his own opinions. He’d go against orders if he believed something else was right. He was never really the obedient type, no matter how he looked on the surface.

Therapist: Do you think, then, that he was meant to become a demon?

Beelzebub (pausing thoughtfully): Maybe. I think becoming a demon gave him the freedom to finally be himself. But it also came with a burden... the responsibility of carrying the rest of us. And I know we don’t make it easy for him. We all have our own flaws… our sins. It’s just who we are now.

Therapist: And do you like who you are now, Beelzebub?

Beelzebub (quietly): Not really. My sin, it’s not worse than most of my brothers’. But it can be… difficult to manage at times.

Therapist (gently but firmly): But do you like yourself, Beelzebub?

Therapist (calm and professional): Good afternoon, Lucifer. How are you today?

Lucifer (glancing around the room before sitting): I’m well enough, thank you. And yourself?

Therapist (smiling politely): I’m doing good, thank you. What would you like to discuss today?

Lucifer (folding his hands neatly): I was hoping you could tell me what the others have said in their sessions.

Therapist: I’m afraid I can’t disclose any of our previous conversations. You know that, Lucifer.

Lucifer (with a faint smirk): I won’t tell anyone you told me.

Therapist (gently): That’s not how this works, and I think you know that too.

Lucifer (sighing, his composure faltering): I only want to know how they feel about me.

Therapist: Have you asked them yourself?

Lucifer (shaking his head): Even if I tried, Leviathan wouldn’t open his door. He barely speaks to me, he doesn’t even come out to eat anymore. Mammon… he’s always rushing about, doing who-knows-what, and then heading to the hospital. He barely comes home.

Therapist: And the others?

Lucifer (rubbing the bridge of his nose): Beelzebub is the only one who still talks to me. Belphegor… he hasn’t changed much, though he no longer sleeps near me. And Asmodeus spends every night out and sleeps through the day. I hardly see him anymore.

Therapist: Have you and Beelzebub spoken about what happened?

Lucifer (quietly): Yes. He said he forgives me, but only if I keep coming here. He told me that if I stop, he won’t speak to me again. And since he’s all I have at the moment… I’m here.

Therapist (nodding slowly): Have you gone to see Satan?

Lucifer (visibly tensing): No.

Therapist: Why not?

Lucifer (looking down): I don’t think I’m ready to face what I’ve done… and I doubt Mammon would welcome me there either.

Therapist: I understand. I’ve heard Mammon has taken over some of your responsibilities at home. How does that make you feel?

Lucifer (leaning back, thoughtful): It’s given me more time to myself. I’ve been able to… slow down. Do things I haven’t done in a long time.

Therapist: That sounds healthy. What kinds of things?

Lucifer (a small smile forming): I recently listened to one of my records, start to finish, for the first time in ages. No interruptions.

Therapist (tilting their head): Do you miss the interruptions?

Lucifer (softly chuckling): I caught myself pausing the record, thinking I’d heard one of them calling for me. I even stepped out of my room once… but no one was there.

Therapist (after a pause): Do you miss the chaos?

Lucifer (quietly, a trace of melancholy in his voice): I never thought I would. But… I’m beginning to realize that, for all the trouble they caused, they were the best part of my day.

Does anyone have fic recs with this kind of dynamic? I don’t even care about the fandom I just want to read something like this!

Right now, I can’t stop picturing Sukuna, this massive, intimidating guy, at his son’s football practice. His kid’s… well, not great, but Sukuna refuses to admit it. The moment the coach benches his son, Sukuna’s already stomping over, arguing that the coach doesn’t know what he’s doing. Then when the kid finally gets back in the game, he immediately gets tackled, and the whole crowd just winces in unison. By the end, Sukuna’s grumbling the entire car ride to get ice cream, blaming the coach’s “terrible training” while his son’s sitting there covered in grass stains and smiling anyway.

✨JELSA✨ I’M TALKING FROZEN X RISE OF THE GUARDIANS. DISNEY PLEASEEEE GIVE ELSA THE MAN SHE DISERVES!!

You know that phase in the early 2000s where people would reverse songs and swear the singer said, “I worship the devil” or “praise Satan”? Yeah, I was one of those kids who’d watch those videos, then run to my mom like, “MOM! Justin Bieber worships SATAN!!” And my mom, being a Christian, would just nod and go, “Yeah. That’s how he got famous. He sold his soul.” That made me think of Satan. (which I never do lol)

Cred: @hyuneskkami for the divider

Buy Me A Coffee💖...PLEASE lmao

Satan (peacefully reading a thick hardcover on demonology and listening to classical music)

MC (swings the door open violently, holding a half-charged laptop): SATAN!! Is this true?! Does Justin Bieber worship you!?

Satan (blinks slowly): …What?

MC (slaps the laptop down on his lap): LOOK!! This video says if you reverse Baby at exactly 1 minute and 23 seconds, he says praise Satan. IS. THAT. TRUE?!

Satan (sighs and puts his book down): I have no idea who that is.

MC: You don’t know Justin Bieber?!

Satan: Should I?

MC (shaking their head like a disappointed teacher): Ugh. Okay. Sit tight. We’re going down a rabbit hole.

[One YouTube conspiracy montage later…]

MC: Okay, this one says Beyoncé actually made a deal with you to become famous. That true?

Satan (dryly): As flattering as that is, I don't recall making any deals with Beyoncé. I appreciate that people believe I made her famous.

MC: What about this one? "Lady Gaga sold her soul to the devil to get her fashion sense." I mean…

Satan (rubbing temples): MC, most of these bloggers are delusional or bored. Probably both.

MC: Okay but listen to this one in reverse. plays garbled audio that vaguely sounds like "love Satan"

Satan (rubbing his temple): This is going to be a long night.

[Hours later, their room is a mess: open chip bags, sticky notes, reversed lyrics scribbled in demon script. Both look sleep-deprived.]

Satan :Okay, but hear me out. What if we reverse your own voice to see if you say you love me?

MC: Ohhh okay, I'll say, “I like kittens.” Fast one, and then slow!

[Lucifer opening the door, already annoyed.]

Lucifer: You two missed breakfast. What are you even doing in he—

[Satan and MC are hunched over the laptop, eyes bloodshot, muttering like gremlins and pausing YouTube videos every 3 seconds.]

MC: Lucifer, be honest—do celebrities ever pray to you guys? Like to you, specifically?

Satan: And do they actually give their soul, or is it more like a verbal agreement situation?

MC: If I say "diddy," does that ring a bell? Did he sign anything??

Satan (Confused): Who's Diddy?

MC: I'll put you on later. Now, lucifer think...

Lucifer (blank stare):…What the hell are you talking about? Better yet, what's happening in here?

Satan (completely serious): Lucifer. Do you know how famous I am on Earth?

Lucifer (staring at them in horror): I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear any of this.

Lucifer (turning around and walking out slowly): I’m not doing this today. Whatever this is... I’m not part of it.

MC (whispering): ...He didn’t say no.

Satan (nodding): He definitely knows something.

So apparently in the new game you can marry one of the brothers (or at least that’s what I heard??), and naturally my brain went, what if I married Mammon? Which is incredibly on brand for me. Sorry in advance, lmao.

Cred: @uzmacchiato for the divider

Buy Me Coffee💖

Mammon: Ohhh now that we’re gettin’ married, we can make a registry and tell people what to get us!

MC: Oohhh I really want that fancy toaster that lets you make a 16-inch pizza.

Mammon: (holding your face gently) My love… you're thinking small.

MC: …What do you mean?

Mammon: We can put anything. Jet skis. Tickets to Hawaiiiiii. Moneyyyyy.

MC: Mammon, no.

Mammon: Wait, wait—what if we just request money instead? Then we can buy whatever we want later! It’s genius. They can even choose how much to send!

MC: …Can I still put the toaster?

Mammon: YES, you can put the damn toaster!

Cue Mammon creeping around the house like a wedding tax collector, pulling his brothers aside one by one.

Mammon cornered Levi first, holding the registry printout like a receipt from hell.

Mammon: Levi. My brother. My blood. You’re really gonna put this much into the envelope?

Levi: That’s all I can afford!! I just spent 800 Grimm on limited-edition Ruri-chan figures!

Mammon: So you can drop Grimm on plastic but not on your own brother’s wedding?! Is this what brotherly love looks like to you?!

Levi: Mam—

Mammon (clutching his heart): Is this what you think of me and MC’s love?! HUH?! ARE WE NOTHING TO YOU?!

Levi (sweating): OKAY okay okay I’ll add more!!

Mammon: That’s what I thought.

At the wedding, Mammon was scanning the room like a man on a mission, barely listening to the vows, eyes darting toward the gift table.

There it was. The glorious, chrome-wrapped fancy toaster. Sitting beside baskets stuffed with envelopes.

Mammon (leaned in close, barely whispering): We’re gonna be rich, my love.

Mc (side-eyed him, whispering back): Mammon, stop, we’re literally at the altar.

Mammon (grinned): I’m just sayin’. I see envelopes. I see a toaster. I see the future.

Mc (sighed): I swear if you sprint mid-ceremony I’m divorcing you before we sign anything.

Mammon (whispered): Babe I’m holding back so hard right now.

Mc shook their head, looking at the crowd, then at him.

"This is what I get for marrying the demon of greed.”

Back home, you were hugging the toaster like it just graduated top of its class.

MC: I love this toast so much.

Mammon: Yeah yeah, the crust is crispy or whatever. Now help me open these envelopes!

MC: OHH let’s see what we got!!

Thirty minutes of envelope carnage later—

Mammon: Oh my fucking god.

MC: Mammon. Are we rich?!

Mammon: (grabbing you and spinning like a lunatic) YEEEESSSSS WE’RE RIIIIICH!!! I PRAYED for times like this!!

MC: You’re thinking what I’m thinking…

Mammon: Yesss…no?

MC: Put the money on the bed.

Mammon (wiggling his eyebrows): Ohhh so we bein’ freakyyy—I’m down.

MC: No dummy! We’re making money angels!!

Mammon: …Oh. I’m still down.

MC: AHH I’M GONNA BRING THE TOASTER!

Mammon: Babe PLEASE. No toaster in the money pile.

MC: But that’s our new baby…

Mammon: …Okay fine!!

You both flopped onto the pile of Grimm like victorious dragons. The toaster was sitting proudly between you.

Mammon: Does the toaster have to be in between us?

MC: You better start being nice to our son.

Mammon: It’s a toaster!!

MC: It’s my baby!!

Mammon groaned and covered his face with his hands.

Mammon: …I married a lunatic.

When I was younger, my older siblings would offer me candies and snacks so I could clean their rooms since I got very hyper and needed something to do. But when we ran out of snacks, they'd give me spoonfuls of raw sugar, lmao. And that shit had me jumping off the walls, cleaning, running around, and then crashing. I believe they would do this with Beelzebub.

Cred: @enchanthings-a for the divider

Satan stared at the list of chores stuck to the fridge like it was personally out to get him. “I’m not doing the kitchen. I did it last time.”

Ugh, same. I just did my skincare routine and there’s no way I’m risking fumes and elbow grease on my pores. Not happening.” Asmodeus said from the doorway, already filing his nails.

Satan turned to glare. “You never do the kitchen.”

“Well then, it’s your turn to keep up the streak,” Asmo said sweetly, giving him a wink.

They both stared at the disaster zone that used to be the kitchen. Crumbs. Grease. Questionable slime. Something was moving in the sink but neither addressed it.

Asmo sighed. “Too bad Beel’s not home. He’d do it if we gave him snacks.”

Satan looked at him slowly. “...Is he not home?”

Asmo blinked. “...Wait. No. He is home.”

Both of them turned in unison, eyes lighting up.

Beel was on his bed surrounded by snack wrappers, eating what looked like a meat bun stacked with marshmallows. He blinked slowly as they entered, mid-chew.

“Hey Beel,” Asmo said, voice sing-songy and suspicious. “If you wash the dishes, I’ll give you this whole box of cupcakes,” Asmo said sweetly, holding it up like a treasure chest.

Beel stared. “...All of them?”

“All twelve,” Asmo nodded.

Beel stood up immediately and marched to the kitchen without a word.

Satan and Asmo exchanged grins.

Five minutes later, Beel was scrubbing the stove with unnatural vigor. Satan dropped an entire blueberry pie on the table.

“Nice job. Do the counters too and this is yours.”

Beel didn’t even respond. Just nodded and kept scrubbing.

Asmo came back with a handful of fancy chocolates and candies. “If you clean the hallways too, I’ll throw these in.”

By the time Levi peeked into the hallway, Beel was on his knees scrubbing tile grout with the focus of a man on a mission.

Levi blinked. “…Why is Beel doing all the chores?”

“He’s working for snacks,” Satan said, arms crossed and smug.

Levi narrowed his eyes. “No way. For real?”

“Yup,” Asmo chimed. “We just gave him some desserts and now look at him go.”

Levi stared a little longer, “...Are there any snacks left?”

“Almost out,” Satan muttered.

Levi ran to the fridge, flung it open, empty. Just sauces and condiments. He checked the freezer. A single bag of peas. He turned to the cabinets. Nothing but flour, chocolate chips, and random baking supplies.

“Guys—there’s no food left.”

“Sucks for you.” Satan said smugly.

Leviathan starts going through the ingredients and pulls out a tub of frosting. “Beel! If you sweep the dining room, I’ll give you this!”

Beel was already halfway there with the broom.

Next came the chocolate chips.

Then some jelly.

They were throwing ingredients at him like bribes.

Two hours in, everything was gone. Every. Last. One.

Levi opened the fridge. “Guys... we’re out of everything.”

Satan slammed the pantry. “Nothing in here either.”

Asmo opened the cabinets, then froze. Slowly, his eyes fell on a giant glass jar sitting at the back. “I mean... we do have the sugar.”

All three were now looking at the big glass jar tucked in the back.

“No way,” Levi said. “Lucifer will kill us.”

“Just one spoon,” Satan offered. “It’s not like we’re feeding him crack.”

“That is his version of crack,” Asmo muttered, but no one listened.

The lid came off.

One spoon went in.

Ten minutes later Beel was moving like a blur.

Like a demon possessed. Like if caffeine had legs.

The living room? Spotless. The hallway? Gleaming. The ceiling? Polished. He was scrubbing walls with one hand and vacuuming with the other. Someone handed him another spoon of sugar and he immediately started cleaning under the couch cushions.

“He’s not even doing assigned chores anymore,” Asmo whispered in awe, clutching the empty sugar jar.

“He’s cleaning the doorknobs,” Levi said. “Individually.”

Satan stares like he was watching a ghost.

By the time the front door creaked open, the house was sparkling. Literally sparkling.

Mammon walked in first, mid-sentence. “I’m just saying, if anyone touched my chips again, I’m gonna—”

He froze.

Mammon slowly took off his sunglasses. “...Did we get robbed by a cleaning crew?”

Belphegor wandered in, yawning. “Is it… glowing in here?”

Lucifer walked in behind them, scanning the walls like they were booby-trapped. “...What the hell is going on?”

Every surface was gleaming. The banister reflected the chandelier. The hallway smelled like sugar and victory. Even the doorknobs looked polished.

Lucifer narrowed his eyes and walked toward the living room.

Beel was passed out cold on the couch, drooling into a pillow. Asmo was laying face-down on the rug. Satan had his back against the wall, looking dazed. Levi was curled up next to the entertainment system with a bruise on his forehead.

Lucifer blinked. “…What happened.”

Asmo held a finger to his lips. “Shhh… we just got him to sleep.”

Lucifer didn’t say anything. Just slowly turned and walked toward the kitchen. That’s when they heard it.

“WHERE THE HELL IS ALL THE FOOD?!” Mammon screamed.

Lucifer stormed back in.

Levi, Satan, and Asmo all looked at each other and shrugged.

Lucifer gave them a long, murderous stare.

No one moved.

Lucifer stared, fuming. “Explain. Now.”

Satan pointed at Beel. “We... may have fed him sugar.”

“A lot of sugar,” Levi added.

“...Like... half the jar,” Asmo admitted, wincing.

“Well…the whole jar.” Satan added.

Lucifer didn’t speak. His eye twitched.

One second passed.

Two.

Then—

“YOU GAVE HIM FUCKING SUGAR?!”

When I was younger, I used to believe the back of money stated "in god we thrust," and I would thrust while laughing, wondering why god would want that. Turns out I just sucked at reading, and doing that in front of my Christian mother would get me slapped. I think this is very Mammon-coded.

Cred: @enchanthings-a for the divider

Mammon leaned over the human world cash, squinting as he turned the bill sideways and upside down. “Heh… humans are weird, man,” he muttered, catching Lucifer’s attention.

Lucifer, already irritated by Mammon knowing it's something dumb, sighed. “What now?”

Mammon grinned, thrusting his hips once, dramatically. “’In God We Thrust,’ huh? What kinda money slogan is that?!” He cackled. “Humans are way freakier than I thought!”

Lucifer blinked. Then blinked again. “What.”

Mammon looked down at the bill, then up at his brother, grinning. “It’s just funny, is all. Humans got real weird with their money. Look.” He handed the bill over. “Right there. Says ‘In God We Thrust.’”

Read. It. Again.” Lucifer said through gritted teeth, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

Mammon held the bill up. “Look! It’s right there! ‘In God We Thrust!’” He says looking at Lucifer as if he has two heads.

SMACK!

Lucifer slapped him in the back of the head so hard the bill flew out of Mammon’s hand.

“OW! What was that for?!”

Lucifer inhaled deeply. “It says TRUST, Mammon. TRUST.”

Mammon blinked. “No, it doesn’t.”

Lucifer turned slowly. “What.”

“I’ve read it, like, ten times. Look!” Mammon scrambled for the bill on the floor. “T-H-R–wait, no… T-H… wait…”

Lucifer leaned over his shoulder. “T-R-U-S-T. Trust.

Mammon squinted. “…No way. That’s not an R.”

“That is exactly an R.” Lucifer closed his eyes. “Mammon. Mammon, please. Tell me this isn’t the first time you’ve noticed this.”

Mammon mumbled, “I’ve thought it said that since, like… forever.”

"I genuinely worry about your brain sometimes.” Lucifer slowly turned and walked away, muttering something about adopting another brother and leaving Mammon to stare at the bill with a troubled frown.

“…Still looks like thrust.”

Therapist (calm and professional): Hello, Leviathan. It’s lovely to see you.

Leviathan (fidgeting with his hands, glancing around nervously): H-Hello, it’s lovely to see you too.

Therapist (offering a reassuring smile): What made you decide to come in today?

Leviathan (voice hesitant, fingers twitching): Um... Mammon recommended I come in and talk to you.

Therapist (nodding encouragingly): And what would you like to talk about

Leviathan (shifting uncomfortably, eyes darting to the door): I’m... not too sure. Sorry.

Therapist (calmly): That’s okay. Can I ask why you seem so on edge?

Leviathan (voice dropping to a whisper, still looking around): I don’t know... it’s just... um, I don’t know who might be listening.

Therapist (gently reassuring): There’s no one else here, Leviathan. Just you and me. Is there someone you think is out to get you

Leviathan (shoulders tensing, voice barely audible): N-No, I just... I don’t want Lucifer to find out what we’re talking about.

Therapist (voice soft but firm): Are you afraid of Lucifer?

Leviathan (hyperventilating, gripping his arms tightly): Who wouldn’t be?! He’s the strongest of all of us! I mean, did you see what he did to Satan?!

Therapist (gently, guiding him): Leviathan, I need you to breathe. Okay? Breathe with me.

Leviathan (taking shaky breaths, trying to calm down): O-Okay... I’m sorry.

Therapist (reassuring): "t’s okay. Let’s try to explore this fear a little further. Have you always been afraid of Lucifer?

Leviathan (staring at the floor, voice breaking slightly): Not really. I thought he’d never hurt us... because we’re family, and that’s all we have here. But now, I-I don’t know if I can trust him.

Therapist (gently probing): Because of what happened with Satan?

Leviathan (clenching his fists, tears welling in his eyes): Yes, of course, it’s because of that! He’s our brother, and Lucifer beat him so brutally. He fought us when we tried to help! What if I’m next? I mess up all the time, like when I accidentally trapped us in one of my games. What if he gets mad at me and fights me too?!

Therapist (nodding understandingly): I see where you’re coming from, Leviathan. It’s hard to trust someone when they go against their word.

Leviathan (eyes spilling tears, voice cracking): Yeah, it is. And I know Satan and Lucifer aren’t close, but how could he do something like that?

Therapist (handing him a tissue): Do you think Lucifer sees Satan as family?

Leviathan (sniffing, wiping his face quickly): Of course! He... he should. Satan came from Lucifer, so he’s obviously family.

Therapist (thoughtfully): Satan wasn’t in the Celestial Realm with you all, correct?

Leviathan (nodding slowly): Yeah, he came after we fell.

Therapist (gently): So, is it possible that Lucifer doesn’t think of him as family in the same way he sees the rest of you? Since Satan wasn’t raised with you all?

Leviathan (voice shaky, realization dawning): I... I didn’t think about that. But even if that’s true, Satan is still a part of Lucifer. That doesn’t make sense. Sorry.

Therapist (calmly explaining): It actually does. Satan came from Lucifer’s anger. When he was born, that became his very essence—the demon of wrath. Do you see what I’m getting at, Leviathan?

Leviathan (stammering, gripping his knees): T-That Lucifer doesn’t see Satan as his own being, but as a part of himself he lost... and that anger was the reason for our fall. So he also sees Satan as his shame.

Therapist (nodding gently): Exactly, Leviathan, and—

Leviathan (interrupting, voice raw): But it’s not Satan’s fault! He didn’t deserve what happened!

Therapist (soothingly): I know that. But we’re trying to understand what Lucifer might be feeling—and why he most likely wouldn’t hurt you.

Leviathan (shaking his head, voice growing unsteady again): Yeah, but... he’s hurt Mammon before. More than once.

Therapist (momentarily shocked but trying to hide it): What do you mean?

Leviathan (wringing his hands, looking away): Mammon didn’t bring it up in his session, huh? He... he strings Mammon up whenever he does something wrong. Sometimes for hours. Sometimes for days. And we can’t help him, or we’ll get punished too. I used to think it was funny, but... I don’t know anymore.

Therapist (expression darkening slightly): So Lucifer has shown signs of aggression before?

Leviathan (nodding slowly, voice almost hollow): Yeah. And he locked Belphegor up in the attic for... I don’t even remember how long. He even hurt MC. I could be next. If he’s only getting worse, he could kill me.

Therapist (firmly but calmly): Leviathan, breathe.

Leviathan (frantically shaking his head, voice rising in panic): I don’t wanna be next. I love Lucifer, but he’s becoming more dangerous, and I can’t even sleep or leave my room knowing that somehow, someway, I could piss him off... and I’ll be next.

Therapist (softly but insistently): Leviathan... I’m going to ask you again to breathe with me.

Leviathan (shakily exhaling, nodding weakly): Y-Yeah... okay. I’m sorry.

Therapist (offering reassurance): It’s okay. It’s natural to feel this way. How have you been managing at home? I know you said you can’t sleep, but what about food? Bathing?

Leviathan (voice still unsteady): Mammon and Asmo bring me food. I sneak into Asmo’s personal bathroom to bathe... I just can’t face Lucifer. I can’t even go see Satan.

Therapist (gently): Why can’t you see Satan?

Therapist (smiling warmly, gesturing toward the seat): Hello, Mammon. Please, have a seat.

Mammon (flopping into the chair with a grin): What’s up, Doc? How ya doin’?!

Therapist (chuckling softly): I’m doing well, thank you. And you?

Mammon (leaning back, arms crossed casually): Me? Oh, I’m amazin’, as usual. So, uh, what’s this all about again?

Therapist (calmly): Well, I was hoping you could tell me. What made you decide to come see me today?

Mammon (scratching the back of his neck, feigning nonchalance): Oh, y’know... just wanted to chat. You’ve heard about what happened with Lucifer and Satan, right?

Therapist (nodding slightly): I’m aware of the incident, but I’d like to hear it from your perspective.

Mammon (avoiding eye contact, voice lighter than the weight of his words): Ah, it ain’t that big a deal... just, y’know, Lucifer losin’ it. Hurtin’ Satan. But nah, that’s not why I’m here. I just... don’t wanna end up like him.

Therapist (leaning forward slightly, tone gentle): And what do you mean by that?

Mammon (grinning nervously): I mean, I don’t wanna hurt him, obviously! Not like... not like he hurt Satan.”

Therapist (noting the shift in tone): Why do you think you’d hurt Lucifer?

Mammon (shrugging, trying to stay light): Dunno... maybe ‘cause I get it now. What he told Diavolo, ‘bout all that resentment. I got it too. For him.

Therapist (gently): You resent Lucifer?

Mammon (hesitating, his voice quieter): To an extent... yeah. But it’s not hate, y’know? It’s more like... Sometimes I wonder what life would be like if we didn’t fall.

Therapist (calmly encouraging): And how do you think you’d be?

Mammon (smiling wistfully, gaze distant): Different. Better, maybe. I wasn’t perfect, but I was a lot... kinder. People liked me, even when I messed up. I’d try to fix things back then. Now? Feels like everythin’ I touch just goes wrong.

Therapist: Can you give me an example?

Mammon (rubbing his face, voice heavy with frustration): Yeah, like when I tried to get Asmo that limited-edition makeup. He didn’t wanna camp out, so I did it for em'. The line was insane, so I... mighta found a way in. Long story short, I got caught, banned from the store, and couldn’t even afford the resold ones. He didn’t get it ‘cause I screwed up.

Therapist (softly): Do you think things like that would happen if you were still an angel?

Mammon (quietly): Maybe... but the old me wouldn’t’ve stopped ‘til I got it for him. No matter what.

Therapist: How does this tie back to Lucifer?

Mammon (voice hardening, anger creeping in): He’s the reason I’m not the old me anymore. Sure, I chose to trust him when we fell, even when I doubted him. But now, when I see myself in the mirror... in my demon form... I can’t stop thinkin’ about how beautiful my wings used to be. Or how my brothers looked the day we fell, cryin’, changin’, thinkin’ we’d lost Lilith forever.

Therapist (gently): Thinking?

Mammon (smirking, but it doesn’t reach his eyes): Yeah. Lucifer doesn’t know, I know, but I overheard him and Diavolo. She didn’t die, she became human.

Therapist (curious): Have you ever thought about telling Lucifer you know?

Mammon (frowning, shaking his head): Nah. He wouldn’t like it, and I don’t wanna end up like Satan.

Therapist (concerned): Are you afraid Lucifer would hurt you?

Mammon (voice lowering, fists clenching): You didn’t see him. The way he looked at Satan, like he was some enemy, not family. It was... cold. If he could do that to one of us once, what’s stoppin’ him from doin’ it again?

Therapist: Do you think he will?

Mammon (after a long silence, voice steady): Yeah. And when he does... I’ll be ready.

Therapist (watching him closely): Ready how?

Mammon (leaning forward, voice ice-cold): Last time, I was scared. I tried protectin’ Satan by throwin’ myself over him, but it wasn’t enough. If Lucifer hurts one of my brothers like that again... I’ll kill him. No hesitation...

Therapist (gently but firmly): Do you really think killing your own brother is the answer?

Mammon (gritting his teeth): If I could fight against my brothers and sisters in the Celestial Realm, I can do it here too. I’d lose, sure, but I’d do whatever it takes to protect my family. Even if it costs me everything.

Therapist (sitting with a calm demeanor): Lucifer, how are you feeling today?

Lucifer (crossing his arms, avoiding eye contact): I’m fine. Can we make this quick?

Therapist (voice steady): You seem eager to leave. Is there a reason you’re resistant to therapy?

Lucifer (shifting in his seat, jaw tightening): I’m not resistant. I just don’t need it.

Therapist (leaning forward slightly, meeting his gaze): You don’t feel you need it, even after the recent incident?

Lucifer (voice hardening, eyes narrowing): It was an accident. I’ve regained control.

Therapist (nodding thoughtfully, reading their notes): Control, yes. But from what your family has told me, it seems you’re struggling. If it’s difficult for you to talk openly, perhaps we could try hypnosis.

Lucifer (arching a brow, his tone skeptical): Hypnosis?

Therapist (smiling gently, folding their hands): Sometimes, pride can create barriers. Hypnosis allows us to bypass those barriers and explore what you might not feel ready to say. Would you be open to that?

Lucifer (after a long pause, his shoulders dropping slightly): …Fine.

Therapist (gesturing to the couch, voice encouraging): Excellent. Please, lie back. Close your eyes and focus on a place where you feel safe. Can you describe what you see?

Lucifer (hesitant, his brow furrowing as his breathing quickens): I don’t feel safe. I hear them… my brothers. They’re crying, begging me to help them.

Therapist: And what do you see?

Lucifer (his hands clenching into fists, voice trembling): They’re on the ground… broken, bloody. Their wings… the feathers are falling like ash.

Therapist (watching him careful): How does that make you feel?

Lucifer (his chest heaving, eyes scrunched shut): I… I can’t breathe. Th-this is my fault. If they hadn’t listened to me—

Therapist (gently interrupting): What would have been different, Lucifer?

Lucifer (voice cracking, a hand covering his face): They’d be happy. Safe. They wouldn’t have become… this.

Therapist (leaning forward slightly, tone curious): This?

Lucifer (dropping his hand, his voice quieter now): Demons. Shadows of who they were. Mammon, he was so generous, so kind. Now, he’s trapped in an endless cycle of stealing, as if it’s the only thing keeping him whole. And Beel… he loved cooking. It made him happy to see everyone together enjoining the food he made, but now he’s consumed by hunger, devouring everything before it can be shared.

Therapist: Why do you believe this is all your fault?

Lucifer (voice growing distant): They followed me. They trusted me. I told them everything would be fine, and I… I failed them. I failed Lilith.

Therapist (tone soft with curiosity): Lilith?

Lucifer (swallowing hard, his voice barely above a whisper): Our sister.

Therapist: She isn’t with you?

Lucifer: No. She… she was going to die. I made a deal with Diavolo to save her. She became human, so she could be with the one she loved.

Therapist: That sounds selfless. Why do you feel it was a failure?

Lucifer (his hands tightening into fists again): Because she was happy, but… she wasn’t with us. My brothers didn’t even know she was alive. I kept it from them.

Therapist (raising a brow): Why?

Lucifer (his voice heavy with guilt): If they knew, they would have searched for her. It would’ve broken my deal with Diavolo.

Therapist (pausing, then leaning forward): I see. Let’s go deeper, Lucifer. Not your family, just you. What do you see?

Lucifer (his voice hollow): …Nothing.

Therapist (tone calm): Nothing?

Lucifer (his voice growing shaky): A void.

Therapist: Can you hear anything?

Lucifer (breathe hitching): I… I hear screaming.

Therapist (voice low and encouraging): Walk toward it. What do you see?

Lucifer (his eyes snapping open, panic in his voice): Myself… hurting Satan.

Therapist (calm but curious): Satan is your brother, correct?

Lucifer (his voice shaking, fists trembling): Not… exactly.

Therapist: What do you mean?

Lucifer (looking away, voice raw): Satan isn’t an angel. He’s… my rage. Everything I’ve buried.

Therapist (carefully): Why were you hurting him?

Lucifer (his voice breaking): Because I resent him.

Therapist: Why do you feel that way?

Lucifer (tears threatening to fall, his voice tight): He’s free. He doesn’t hide. I… I had to hide everything. In the Celestial Realm, emotions like mine were sinful. I had to be perfect—angelic.

Therapist (gently but firmly): But now you’re free to express yourself, aren’t you?

Lucifer (shaking his head, his voice harsh): No. I have to keep order. If I don’t, my family will fall apart. They need me.

Therapist (leaning closer, voice steady): Lucifer… they don’t need you to be perfect.

Lucifer (his voice rising in desperation): Yes, they do.

Therapist (meeting his gaze): If that were true, you wouldn’t be here right now.

Lucifer (blinking, confusion flashing across his face): What?

Therapist: You’re here alone, not them. They’re trying to help you, Lucifer. After what happened, they’re still here because they love you. But you need to let them in.

Lucifer (his voice breaking, hands trembling): I… I didn’t mean to hurt him.

Therapist (leaning back, voice calm and steady): I believe you. But if you want to stop hurting them and yourself, you have to let me help you.

A/n: Hii! I originally planned for this to be a one-shot, but I’m considering turning it into a short series. Just a heads-up, this story isn’t directly based on events from the games. While the characters stay true to their personalities, the dynamics and situations here are my own spin on things. For example, Lucifer and Satan don’t have a close, or even good, relationship in this fic. When Lucifer looks out for Satan, it’s more about his pride in keeping the family intact rather than genuine affection.

Also, a little teaser, the next chapter will focus on Mammon!