#sondepoch

Diavolo thinks he's dreaming when he wakes up to the sensation of someone playing with his hair.

There's only one person in all the realms who would ever do that, but he knows that you're gone. Gone to the human world, gone from his life, gone because he released you, and never to return.

But as Diavolo continues to press his eyes shut, his mind only grows more alert, and the feeling of fingers dancing through his hair feels even more real—almost as if someone is actually there next to him.

The man keeps his eyes closed, savoring the feeling.

He's scared, terrified, that if he lets himself open his eyes and slides back into reality, whatever daydream he's in will slip away and he'll be left all alone again. But when he catches a faint sigh from above him, a sigh he doesn't just hear but one he feels, in the soft and warm breath that just barely rustles his dark red locks, he can't feign sleep any longer.

Diavolo opens his eyes.

And then he regrets not having opened them earlier.

"M-MC?" He chokes out, his voice hoarse from lack of use. His eyes widen at the sight of you: beautiful and loving and sincere as you smile a sad smile down at him.

"You're awake," He hears you whisper.

And part of him still thinks he's dreaming, because that's the only rational explanation for your presence in his bed, but Diavolo doesn't even care because he's missed you so damn much. He practically jumps up, moving muscles he hasn't bothered moving in days, enveloping your body into his as he hugs you tight, tighter than he's ever hugged you before.

"How?" Comes his broken question, and he buries his head in your neck, breathing in the sweet smell of you.

"Lucifer," He hears you respond breathlessly as you return the embrace, and the sensation of your sweet arms wrapping around his body proves to be too much for the demon. Diavolo holds you close, forcing your head atop of his shoulder so that you can't move. So that you can't see the tears of joy and relief pouring down his cheeks.

Lucifer, he thinks, suddenly recalling how he's practically ignored his best friend these past few days. God, he doesn't think he's ever loved the man as much as in this moment, now that you're in his arms because of the other demon's maneuverings.

"Please don't leave," He mumbles into your hair, feeling its softness in between his fingers. "Please don't leave me again."

Diavolo hears you hesitate, and for a moment, panic descends upon him. But then he hears the soft "okay" as you wrap your arms tighter around him, and Diavolo truly believes that he's never been happier.

It's not tangible, he knows.

It's not a promise to be his, and it definitely doesn't offset your reason for leaving for the first place.

But, still. It's a start. And if there's one thing that these past few weeks without you have taught him, it's that Diavolo truly needs you. Just like he needs food and the air and the sun, he needs your love.

Yet, at the same time...False lover, Diavolo remembers.

He never understood it. He still doesn't.

The day after you moved out of his castle and into Purgatory Hall, Diavolo had sent Barbatos to scour the libraries for what any useful information. He knew you hadn't been unfaithful and he knew your love to him was true, so what could it possibly have meant?

Alas, he never found out. Barbatos returned almost entirely empty-handed, carrying nothing but an ancient scripture (perhaps one of the only copies in the Devildom) that could break the sacred paramour contract. Fueled by resentment and pain, Diavolo had used it.

Only afterward did he realize the weight of his actions.

The mark of the paramour faded from both your bodies, not even a ghost of the symbols left to hint that they'd ever been there—and Diavolo realized that he had forsaken his claim to you. His contract with you. He feared that you would consider it him forsaking his love for you.

But you've returned, now, haven't you?

What does that mean for our relationship? Diavolo can't help but wonder as he continues to cradle your body. He allows his fingers to pinch a lock of your hair, long and beautiful as it flows from your scalp, and gives the (h/c) strands a kiss.

It doesn't matter, he decides.

You're here now, and that's all he needs.

***

Being in Diavolo's arms is bliss. True bliss.

You don't realize how much you've been missing this until you feel it, and once you do, you can't help but wonder how you ever willed yourself to leave.

Nothing else in all the realms has made you feel so secure. You lean into Diavolo's body, savoring the feeling of every muscle and outline of every ab as his larger body practically envelopes yours, every time Diavolo holds you tighter just another testimony to his ability to protect you.

Truly, in his arms, you feel safe.

For a long time, neither of you move. The prospect of ruining the moment is too terrifying, and frankly, you feel like you could spend an eternity like this, enjoying the warmth of a man who—no matter what he does—will always have a claim over your heart.

Diavolo presses soft kisses to your body, never straying anywhere intimate, but every contact of his lips to your skin carries a hidden meaning. You close your eyes as he trails from the inside of your wrist to the left side of your temple, from the back of your head down a strand of hair, from your eyelids, closed in bliss, to your nose.

"I've missed this," You hear him murmur. The words are quiet. Small. Almost low enough for you to have missed them. But you hear them, and they bloom a flower of hope inside your chest.

You press your forehead against Diavolo's, both of you closing your eyes in the oddly intimate gesture.

"We both have."

You two must spend nearly ten minutes like that, bodies pressed against each other, lovers finally united. And while nothing has actually happened, no lip-to-lip kisses and no profound declarations of love, you feel like things between you two have slightly returned to what they were before this whole mess with paramours and wives ruined your relationship.

Ah, yes, you think, remembering. Paramour.

The word leaves a dark shadow where it passes through your mind, and you push Diavolo away ever so slightly.

"MC?" Diavolo asks. It feels strange, hearing him call you by your name, but perhaps it would be stranger for him to call you 'darling' right now. You're still not sure what this intimate moment means for your relationship. You told Diavolo you wouldn't leave him, but that doesn't mean there aren't still issues that need to be sorted out.

"You should shower," You tell the man. He seems reluctant to leave, though, so you sweeten the offer. "I'll...I'll get your clothes ready."

A spark of optimism flashes across Diavolo's eyes, and he quickly crawls out of the bed to make way for the royal bathroom, leaving you in the room. It amuses you to see him so eager at your offer, but it's understandable.

Him, showering in the morning with you, picking out his clothes for the day, used to be a part of your normal routine for the two of you. And by choosing to partake in that routine, you're offering him a small slice of hope—that maybe things can go back to normal.

But your heart is heavy as you pick out the clothes.

Of the two of you, no one has yet to acknowledge the elephant in the room: the paramour situation.

You sigh, unfolding the man's clothes as you begin to make his bed. A call breaks you from your thoughts.

"It's been barely ten minutes, and you've already made my room look cleaner, darling," Diavolo cooes, leaning against the open doorframe with his arms crossed. His smile is amused and his eyes are soft with adoration as he stares at you, his previous pain only a light shadow covered by his newfound happiness.

That was a quick shower.

"Hush," You quip back, throwing the man a pair of boxers and his shirt. You're relieved he at least has the decency to keep a towel wrapped around his waist right now; on most mornings, he would come strolling out in the full nude. "Get dressed. I can tell that you've been neglecting your duties, and we're going to see Lucifer and Barbatos."

"We?" Diavolo asks, slipping the clothes on.

"We," You respond, before crossing your arms. "I'm still mad at you...but for now, it's we."

Diavolo smiles.

He doesn't push the limits of your supposed anger, keeping his usual touchy hands and flirtatious comments to himself as you exit his room. He doesn't even call you "Darling" again, opting to use your real name, but you'd have to be an utter fool not to notice the pep in his step as he greets the two demons that he's (apparently) spent weeks ignoring.

"Lucifer! Barbatos!" He exclaims, outstretching his arms in the manner you are used to. "How are you two?"

Both men freeze at the sound of the prince, jaws hanging open at the sight of him actually up and about.

"You..." Lucifer trails off, not knowing what to say.

It's Barbatos who escapes the confusion-induced stupor first.

"Welcome back, my lord." He smiles pleasantly, an unnerving grin that masks all his real emotions. "It's good to see you back to your usual self."

Right, you remember the sorry sight that you'd seen when you first came, and how entirely heartbroken and devastated Diavolo had looked as he slumbered. He's almost entirely back to his usual self now that you're by his side, but these two demons have grown far too accustomed to seeing the darker side of him.

"Indeed," Diavolo responds.

"Would you like some tea?" The butler asks, clearly realizing that the prince hasn't had food in far too long.

"Anything will suffice."

And then Lucifer finally recovers from the shock, practically bombarding his beloved friend with questions once he can bring himself to speak.

"Diavolo! Are you well? How is your hunger? You seem to have showered, are you feeling better now? Is there anything you require? Please don't hesitate to make any—"

Diavolo holds up a hand, silencing his friend. "Relax, Lucifer. I assure you, I have returned to my normal state. Can you tell me of any paperwork or requests that require my attention?"

Lucifer seems surprised to see Diavolo so ready to dive back into work, only then realizing that all his friend needed was the touch of love in his life. The black-haired demon glances at you, flashing a cryptic smile your way.

You fixed him, he seems to say.

You can only smile in response.

It takes barely a minute for the two men to launch into a full conversation about everything that needs to be done, and just a little bit more time for Barbatos to return with a pot of tea. He pours some for both you and Diavolo, handing you both the cups since there aren't any tables directly in front of you.

When he passes the cup to you, though, he flinches the second your fingers graze his.

A tingling warmth lingers where your hands touched.

Awkwardly, you manage to catch the cup, but not without every set of eyes in the room darting to the butler who practically jumped away from you the second his gloved hand came into contact with your fingers.

"D-did I hurt you?" You stutter out, never having seen the butler look so disconcerted. The mask of apathy that he always wears is gone, leaving you all to see the shocked look in his eyes—more shocked than even when he and Lucifer saw Diavolo.

"You've been blessed by angels," He mutters, bewildered.

And then all the eyes in the room are on you.

"You've been blessed?" Diavolo asks, placing a hand over yours, tentatively touching the skin. "By gods," He mutters, more to himself than you. "How did I not sense it before?"

From across the room, Lucifer, too, approaches you, gently touching your hand. His look is one of pure disbelief, but the moment he touches you, he flinches back.

"W-what's wrong?" You ask. "Does it...hurt for you to touch me?"

Worry clouds your eyes, and you immediately begin to regret ever accepting Simeon's offer. It was ridiculous, now that you think about it. You knew that you wanted to spend eternity with a demon, and yet, you accepted an angel's blessing. Wasn't that counterproductive?

"No, it doesn't hurt us," Diavolo interrupts, slow and cautious with his words. "It's just very...shocking. I'm certain you weren't blessed the last time we were together, MC. What...what happened?"

You swallow nervously as the three demons turn to you, each one desperate for an explanation. You can only think of one thing to say: "Simeon..."

Before you can continue, or even begin to explain that you were the one who agreed to Simeon's offer, Lucifer is chanting in a foreign language with a dark glow emanating from his body, painting the room purple.

You instinctively lean closer to Diavolo, but the spell lasts only a few seconds before the light fades, and in its wake stands..."Simeon."

"Lucifer," The angel says, blinking. He glances around, his confused gaze darting from face to face—settling particularly long on you, wondering why you're back in the Devildom—before he turns to the demon who teleported him here. "I know I told you to feel free to summon me if you ever wanted company, but I have a feeling you didn't call me here just to enjoy my conversation." Simeon flashes a kind smile at all of you, mild amusement settled in his emerald eyes as he tries to understand the situation.

"You blessed MC," Diavolo blurts.

"Ah, so that's what this is about. Yes, I gave her my blessing—Michael did, too. Is that a problem?" The angel seems to be asking a genuine question, which is understandable. You know that an angel blessing a demon is supposedly a big taboo, but Simeon told you that angels blessing humans is a rather common practice.

If anything, though, the demons in the room only further tense at Simeon's words.

"She's been blessed by Michael as well?" Diavolo's eyes are wide in disbelief. "MC, is this true?"

You nod your head. "I didn't realize that it was important..."

"It's..." Diavolo trails off, clearly troubled.

"It's complicated," Lucifer finishes for him, crossing his arms in masked disapproval.

"I'm sorry," You murmur. "I didn't think...I didn't realize it would be a big deal. I don't even think that Michael's Blessing had any impact, honestly, so maybe—"

"That's impossible." For the first time, Simeon cuts you off. "An angel's blessing will always manifest."

"Angel blessings are intangible," Diavolo murmurs, and you can feel the light tension between them: angel and demon, disputing over the nature of a blessing. "Michael's Blessing is famous across the realms...the blessing of eternal happiness, no? Happiness isn't always obvious, so it may not have taken effect in the way you think."

"Impossible." Simeon is adamant. "Our blessings are very tangible. They always manifest in the form of a physical change. Always. Even my blessing, which seems intangible: it's to bring people closer to their nature as an angel. But it has a clear manifestation: wings, to physically bring people closer to the Celestial Realm. Michael's Blessing is no different."

"If that is true, how did MC physically change after being granted his blessing?" Diavolo's eyes skirt over you, noting no real differences between now and the last time he saw you.

A momentary silence ensues, even Simeon absent for answers, when Barbatos speaks up.

"MC, would you please stand up?" He asks, approaching you. His usual mask of coolness is back on, but his actions are somewhat hesitant. Not wanting to heighten his discomfort, you comply with the request and stand awkwardly as Barbatos's palm ghosts over your stomach. Just like the last time he touched you, a warmth floods the area and you feel almost dizzy as his magical power literally seeps into you. "My lord, there's something you should see. Or feel, I suppose."

Barbatos steps back, gesturing for the prince to do as he did, and Diavolo keeps his movements slow, as if he almost doesn't want to know whatever it is that Barbatos is trying to show him. Only when his palm is placed flat against your abdomen does a flash of recognition cross through his eyes.

"Her stomach changed?" Simeon asks after neither demon says anything. It doesn't quite make sense, but, looking back, you do remember a flash of pain in your abdomen when Michael blessed you. The feeling subsided quickly enough, turning into a comfortable warmth somewhat similar to the magic pouring out of Barbatos's hands, but you'd dismissed it.

Clearly, it means something, though.

"She..." Diavolo trails off, swallowing. "Her organs are different. Her...reproductive organs."

Understanding dawns in Simeon's and Lucifer's eyes, but you're still confused. Your reproductive organs?

"What does that mean?" You ask, eyes round in confusion. You glance from male to male, hoping that one of them will answer you. In the end, it's Diavolo who speaks up.

"Your child-mothering parts, MC. They're different now."

But the confused look in your eyes doesn't fully fade. Why would Michael change your child-bearing organs? Isn't his blessing supposed to give you eternal happiness?

"It means you can bear a demon child." Diavolo pauses. "An heir to my kingdom."

***

It feels like Lucifer's been yelling at Diavolo an awful lot, as of late. And for some reason, Barbatos always seems to be on the demon's side—much to the demon prince's displeasure.

Diavolo pouts playfully as Lucifer continues to rant angrily.

"Wipe that look off your face!" Lucifer hisses, crossing his arms in a feeble attempt to mask the waves of wrath radiating off his body. Behind him, Barbatos looks somewhat amused at seeing the demon in such a state, but Diavolo can tell that he stands by the man's words. "Do you understand the nature of what it is you propose? And for you to tell Simeon to inform Michael and the other angels—have you no sense? Think what you're planning on doing through, Diavolo!"

"I am thinking it through," Diavolo retorts. Lucifer is always so on board with him when it comes to matters related to the RAD and the student council; why can't the two ever seem to agree on affairs of the heart? "This is the best possible course for my plan to reunite the three realms. I am a demon. MC is a human. And now that we know she is blessed by angels, even the Celestial Realm can't stay uninvolved!"

Lucifer scowls. "A king has never taken a paramour and a wife in one person, not for generations! The people of your kingdom will laugh! And it's not just them you need to worry about," Lucifer warns. "Your father won't be happy at all once he hears what you've planned."

"My father may not be happy, but MC will be happy." Diavolo thinks to himself, adding: "MC will be happy, and I will be happy."

"You're talking about uprooting thousands of years of demon tradition. Thousands of years of culture, all belittled in this human-esque marriage."

"For the three realms to come together, of course, some customs will change. If the Celestial Realm even sends envoys to our wedding as I instructed Simeon to request, that will be a compromise that uproots millennia of their tradition as well."

"Diavolo, you are talking about removing the divide between paramour and wife. Turning them into one in an insult to both!"

"Lucifer, must you always oppose my decisions related to MC? The last time I brought up the idea of marrying her, your only argument was that she couldn't give me a biological heir—and she now can! How can you continue to resist? An angel literally changed her body to remove that obstacle, and her eternal happiness lies with me."

"Angel blessings aren't supposed to be fulfilled by other people."

Diavolo groans, his eyebrows knitting together at Lucifer's resistance.

"Lucifer," He finally interrupts. "Let me ask you this: do you wish for me to be happy?"

"Of course." Truly my best friend, Diavolo thinks with a smile. There wasn't a moment of hesitation in that answer.

"I can only be happy if I am with MC. And for MC to be with me for eternity, this is the only course of action I can take." Diavolo pauses. "So, for the sake of our mutual happiness, please stop arguing this. My mind is made up."

Lucifer stares at Diavolo for a moment, a strange mix of emotion swirling around in his eyes before his expression clears. The demon sits down, eyes narrowed in the familiar focus that Diavolo is used to seeing. "It will be troublesome, trying to manage public opinion of this marriage." But with these words, Lucifer isn't trying to change Diavolo's decision anymore. Rather, they're words of warning. Lucifer has accepted what is to come and merely wishes that the prince understands what he's in for.

"That's why I have you by my side, Lucifer."

***

It didn't come as much of a surprise when Diavolo next proposed to you.

No, you'd sensed his desire to make you his kingdom's queen the moment he learned that you could produce him a biological heir. Once he formally broke off the engagement with the she-demon he had proposed to at the last party, you knew that he was just waiting for an opportunity to slip a ring on your finger.

What does surprise you is the speed at which the wedding has come.

"Do people usually hold weddings a week after becoming engaged, here in the Devildom?" You can't hold the question back any longer. You didn't want to ask Diavolo, for fear of seeming rude, or Lucifer, for fear of Diavolo finding out you asked, but Barbatos appears to be trustworthy enough. Well, trustworthy is a bad word. It's more like he doesn't seem to care about you enough to bother telling Diavolo about such a trivial matter.

"Lucifer advised my lord to make haste with the wedding for the sake of minimizing public response and backlash," Barbatos murmurs, draping the silk fabric of your dress over your shoulders, letting the expensive material hang loosely. You appreciate the gesture—it's awkward enough to have Barbatos dressing you for your special day, but standing like this, with your arms extended, without even underwear, does make you feel rather exposed without something to cover you. "But weddings can come as early as a week into the engagement, or as late as several hundred years. For that reason, they usually aren't taken very seriously."

You nod your head slightly at Barbatos's explanation, watching in the mirror as he begins to lace up the stunning red dress.

It's your wedding dress.

And it's your wedding day.

In truth, you've yet to see what the dress looks like on your figure. Diavolo insisted that you leave all the details of the wedding up to him and simply enjoy feeling like a princess on this special day. He doesn't want you to feel any stress or worry, though you can't help the tiny pit of anxiousness that bubbles in your stomach at the prospect of actually getting to spend the rest of your life with the man.

And this time, you know you're not accidentally agreeing to be his paramour or whatever.

Well, in a way, you sort of still are.

It's a technicality.

"You're my everything," Diavolo had murmured into your ear. "My paramour, my wife, my queen, my lover. You're the only one for me."

So, of course, yesterday, the two of you had reformed your paramour contract. The second time around, you didn't mind the hot sensation in your stomach as the new characters rebranded themselves into your skin, and only when Diavolo knelt down to kiss them did he say that they'd changed.

"They've changed?" You asked, confusion painted across your face. For a moment, you felt your heart tighten at the worry that the marks were calling you a bad lover or something of the sort, but Diavolo simply brought you over to the full-length mirror.

You were both already fully naked, so it was easy for your eyes to find the black markings.

"This one looks similar," You murmur, pointing to a strange symbol on the right half of the mark.

"That's the character for 'lover.' You had it before, as well." You watched as Diavolo wrapped his arms around yours, pressing your back into his chest while he stared at your markings fondly.

Seeing the pleasant expression on his face somewhat calmed your nerves, but the feeling of your lover slowly tracing the outlines of the marks was what truly relaxed you.

The sensation was blissful.

"This is the character for 'single,' or 'only,'" Diavolo murmured into your ear, biting it gently. His hand tapped the two characters. "Together: only lover. That's what your mark spells out."

"And what's this tiny thing?" You asked, pointing at a mysterious marking underneath the two. You would have assumed that it was an underline, but it was too detailed.

"Why that," Diavolo chuckled. "That's the symbol for eternity."

"So..." You trailed off, putting the pieces together. "I'm your only lover for all eternity?"

Diavolo nodded. You turned around in his arms, pleasantly surprised to see that the exact same symbols were etched into his skin, just above the V that divided his legs. You'd been mortified when you learned the meaning of your previous mark of the paramour, but these new symbols appealed to you.

"I want you," You murmured, hand running over his abs and over the mark that defined him as yours and even lower, causing a light groan to escape his lips.

"Eager, aren't you?" Diavolo lifted you easily, and you wrapped your legs around his waist, the motion all too familiar. "Well, consider this an early wedding gift."

You smile at the memory, recalling the tenderness of the moment. All throughout the night, Diavolo laid kisses across the markings on your stomach, practically worshipping the spot with his lips.

And, in truth, you love the marks just as much as he does.

My lover, for all eternity, you think, a giddy feeling spreading throughout your body. And our eternity starts today.

Even Barbatos had stared at the spot with a strangely satisfied look when you first entered this dressing room, stripping before him so that he could help you into the traditional Devildom garb.

You can't help but remember the last time he'd seen your mark of the paramour, and the words False Lover that had been etched into your skin. Back then, he'd been the reason why you'd left.

His words have never left you: "Then perhaps someone else is better suited for the role?"

Now, you know. Your mark of the paramour confirms it. No one else is better suited to be Diavolo's lover than you. Hell, you're more than his lover: he said it himself! You're his everything: wife, paramour, lover, and queen, all bundled up into one.

But shouldn't Barbatos, with his clairvoyant powers of perception, have known such a thing?

You frown to yourself as the man continues to lace up the back of your dress, pulling a bold, black ribbon through the gaps in the back of your dress smoothly as his gloved fingers work against your back. The more you think about it, the more you realize that there's only one logical reason for the butler's actions.

"Barbatos," You finally muster up the courage to say. "Do you hate me?"

For the first time, the man's hands falter. He quickly finds his pace again, continuing to work as he responds: "Not at all. Why would you think that?"

"You...told me before that it might be better for someone else to be Diavolo's paramour. That...that it shouldn't be me, by his side." It hurts to say the words aloud, as if your saying them makes them true, but you force yourself to do so anyway. You deserve to know this much, at the very least, right?

"Wrong," Is all Barbatos says as he delicately ties the ends of the black ribbon he'd been using to lace the back of the dress up, letting the ribbon wrap around your neck once—almost like a collar—into a dainty bow at the base of your nape. With your dress now held up entirely by this flimsy knot, he begins to work on your hair, styling it such that the knot peaks out from your (h/c) strands in an elaborate updo, apparently meant to taunt Diavolo throughout the wedding by tempting him with how easy it would be for him to undo the one thing keeping your dress together.

Barbatos seems entirely unbothered by the scowl on your face as he continues to work, ignoring your light huff until he finally sets to applying makeup. If anything, his expression colors amusement in those olive eyes, and you know he finds your reaction entertaining.

Finally, you can't hold back any longer.

"So what, then?" You ask. "If I'm wrong, what was it that you were trying to achieve by telling me that someone else would be better suited to be Diavolo's paramour?"

"What indeed, I wonder?" Barbatos muses out loud. You watch him as he adds color to your lips, making them a tad redder than usual. All the while, he wears that same unnerving smile that acts like a mask, preventing you from seeing his true feelings. "Though, perhaps I should tell you, given that it is your big day and whatnot."

Barbatos walks behind you, placing down the lipstick, and when he returns, he pulls your chin up, forcing you to meet his eyes as they stare straight into you. He seems to hesitate for a second, and then the smile drops from his face, the mask of apathy with it. For the first time, you see a semblance of what might be Barbatos's true face underneath it all. No fake smiles, no sassy comments, just a soft look in his eyes with a cute crinkle in the corner. "All I did," He murmurs, picking a strand of hair into place as he fixes your elaborate updo. "Was play the role required."

And with that, he turns you around and continues fixing your hair, braiding the loose strands into a crown on your head. While he seems to have moved back onto the task at hand, though, you dwell on his words for a long time, turning them around your head even when Barbatos's signature smirk is back on his face—the mask present once more.

The role required, you think, all the way until you're completely dressed and all the demon brothers are fawning over how exquisite you look, donned in traditional demonwear. You look stunning, they tell you, and you know it. Your dress fans out beautifully, the entire gown a thick red silk that outlines your every curve, with black detailing at the bottoms and the back, where the ebony ribbon crawls all the way up to your neck, into a stunning bow that acts as the base for the elegant hairstyle Barbatos has worked your hair into. But your mind is far away, even as they shower you with compliments.

The role required, you think, when hour time finally comes and Lucifer is walking you toward the man you're about to spend the rest of your life with. The whole picture looks strange to you. As a human, you're used to weddings requiring suits and dresses, nothing but formalwear. And while you're certainly in a dress, every demon is proudly in their demon form, angels all glowing with their wings spread out, and each outfit has its own character, even though none of them can compare to how magnificent you and Diavolo look. But even then, as Lucifer presses a kiss to your temple when letting go of your hand, your thoughts are elsewhere.

The role required, you think, as you stand in front of the love of your life, only able to look at him despite the hundreds of thousands of gazes set on your stunning forms. Diavolo lets out a choked sound of surprise as he gazes down at you, his eyes drinking in the sight of you dressed like a demon, wearing one of the most traditional and one of the most exquisite dresses in all of the Devildom.

And only when Diavolo flashes you his usual quirky grin does something click in your brain.

The role required, you think. The role required to get me here. In front of Diavolo.

So many people played a part. Barbatos. Lucifer. Simeon. Michael. Not just people, but things, too. When Barbatos suggested that someone else was better suited to be Diavolo's paramour, it planted the seed in your mind that prompted you to move you out of Diavolo's castle. It drove you into Purgatory Hall, into Simeon's arms, and into Michael's Blessing, where you attained the body you needed, to be able to produce Diavolo an heir, enabling him to forsake all the demon traditions that were stopping him from marrying you.

It wasn't even just that, you think, beginning to understand just how much had gone into bringing you to this point.

The mark of the paramour. It drove you to devastation, but only because you couldn't understand it. When it called you a false lover—it wasn't calling your heart false, but rather the nature of your relationship with Diavolo. You could only be his true lover if you were his everything, and as long as he had another wife, you just weren't. To be his true lover, you had to be it all: not just his paramour, but his wife, his queen, his darling...his only lover.

You smile, beginning to understand that all the pain that has brought you to this moment has been absolutely worth it. From the burning in your abdomen as the mark of the paramour was first branded into your skin to the pain in your lips now as Diavolo teasingly bites them while his kingdom cheers at the sight of you two kissing, binding yourselves to each other in mind, body, and soul to each other for all eternity.

"I love you," You mumble into Diavolo's lips, your voice muffled by his tongue.

"I love you too," He responds, pressing a hand against the small of your back to pull your body closer to his as demons whoop in the background. You swear you can hear the angels attending—Simeon did an excellent job of gathering them—frowning at the sight of such open lust, but even they have to hold back their smiles as they see the swell of pure love blossoming before them.

The remainder of the wedding is unlike anything you've ever experienced at home. The sheer amount of partying and cheering and drinking (and you think you saw a couple of demons stripping?) is ungodly, but so incredibly fun.

The wedding celebrations are to last a fortnight, you know, and you almost wonder how these demons will be able to party this way tomorrow with the sheer rambunctiousness at which they're partying today, but that's a question for another day.

"Enjoying yourself, darling?" Diavolo asks as he sits next to you. The two guests of honor at this celebration, you both sit on top of thrones while the celebrations ensue. Only on the second day are you allowed to join in, but today, it is all about savoring your newlywed status and speaking to others who intend to congratulate you both.

Thus far, you've spent nearly an hour in front of the demon brothers as they added gifts upon gifts to the growing pile between you and Diavolo, and another hour with Simeon and the angel friends he brought with him to the wedding, each one just as kind and handsome as the chocolate-skinned angel himself.

"I love it," You respond to your lover—now your husband—as you throw him a bashful smile. You can't help but wonder what the fifteenth day of celebrations will be like, once he is formally crowned King of the Devildom and you the Queen. You have to admit, the thought of Diavolo in a crown sends shivers down your spine in the best way possible.

Thankfully, you don't need to wait long before the sun sets, and the celebrations are forced to come to a close. Diavolo gives a speech, appreciating all those who came and hints (too obviously, according to Lucifer) about his desires for the three realms to reunite, before dismissing everyone with the single command to return tomorrow for even more joyous celebrations.

You stay close to Diavolo as the two of you return to his castle, somewhat surprised that none of the demon brothers have come over to speak to you after the celebrations.

"Darling, why would they come now?" Diavolo asks when you raise the question with him. "There's only one thing we demons do after a day of wedding celebrations, and no man is foolish enough to try to intervene with that."

Your lover throws you a flirtatious wink as he opens the door to your shared bedroom, gesturing for you to enter. In truth, you expect him to press you against the wall and take you the moment you're both inside, but Diavolo seems to be taking his time.

"You looked stunning today, my queen," He murmurs into your ear, hugging you from behind as he places sweet kisses along your neck. You flush at the word, loving the realization that that's what you're going to be now: a Queen. Compliments continue to roll off his lips until you're aching for him to hurry up and do something with his mouth other than talk.

"Stop teasing me," You pout, once you realize what he's doing. Your comment earns you a deep chuckle as the man slowly complies, turning your body around.

Diavolo places a hand on your cheek, kissing you long and passionately before pulling back to gaze at you. You watch, mesmerized as his hands trail, painfully slow, from your cheek to your collarbone to the black ribbon that is tied around your neck in a bow. He touches the knot, fingers trailing down the dark silk material until they're pinched around a strand instrumental to keeping the knot together.

You stare at Diavolo, the hunger in his eyes.

No doubt, the bow has done its job, taunting Diavolo the entire wedding with how easily he could undo it—even though he couldn't possibly do such a thing in public. Here, though, in private...

"You're breathtaking," He whispers, mesmerized.

He gives the edge of the ribbon between his fingers a sharp pull, and then the entire knot falls apart, the lacing that held your dress up widening and coming undone with the single gesture.

In seconds, the dress slips off your body, leaving you completely exposed before him.

"Absolutely breathtaking."

The night is everything you imagine it to be, beautiful and loving and passionate and hot.

You fall asleep to the sound of his heartbeat, loud but steady, much like the man himself, now sworn to be a staple in your life for all eternity.

With only the moonlight illuminating the dark room, you steal a kiss from his lips before drifting off, savoring the feeling of his touch, already beginning to dream about the wedding celebrations for the next day.

At last, the beginning of your life with Diavolo has begun, and just as your blessing promises: it will be a life of eternal bliss, prosperity, and happiness.

Truly an eternity fit for a queen.

MASTERLIST 

Word count: 6.8k

Notes: Sorry this came out a bit later than I had planned :( I ended up writing the whole thing and not liking how it came out, so I redid it - ngl in my first draft i was getting HEAVY Barbatos x Reader vibes and I sort of tried to tone it down (but oh my GOD imagine a Barbatos x Reader spinoff of this where he loves MC i cant should i do it i cant AGHJSK)

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Thank you for reading <3

Tonight will be a night you will never forget. And not just because this is a party that only happens once every one thousand years, or because of the stunning decor of the castle, or even because of how radiant you know you look in this dress, hand-picked by Diavolo.

No.

It is a night you will never forget because tonight will be the night Diavolo proposes to you.

You smile softly, remembering how you'd slipped out of the prince's arms this morning to surprise him by dressing in his shirt—something you'd learned early on that Diavolo absolutely adores—only to find a gorgeous ring in his pocket. As soon as you opened the velvety box and caught a glimpse of the diamond jewel, you'd shut it, not wanting to ruin any more of your surprise.

But you haven't been able to keep a smile off your face all day.

"Are you enjoying the party, darling?" Diavolo asks when he comes up from behind you, running his fingers up and down the length of your arm, another habit you'd learned that he enjoys. "Why are you hidden away on the balcony like this?"

"The sky is too beautiful to miss," You remark. You lean into Diavolo's arms and look up. Back home, you'd thought that the most beautiful sky belonged to the night: when stars rise to decorate the carpet of black draped above like gemstones woven into silk. But after coming to the Devildom, you'd found that the true sight to behold was a Devildom sunset: a sky redder than blood but brighter all the same, orange and yellow stars flying across in a perpetual state of movement and change. And tonight, there's a spot of carmine in the center: a vermillion scar that peels back at the sky itself as a comet drags on by.

"Truly beautiful," Diavolo murmurs in agreement, though his eyes are latched onto you as he says the words.

You let out a light giggle, knowing the real meaning to his words.

"Is this what you do every morning when you escape my arms? Watch the sunrise like this?"

"What else?" You murmur. Though this morning, you'd done a little more than just that. You turn and face Diavolo, cupping his cheek as you give him a chaste kiss. The fabric of your dress is thin, and you try to drag your body close to his to see if you can feel the outline of a ring anywhere on his pockets...to no avail.

"My love, how would you like to see sunrises and sunsets like this forever?" Diavolo murmurs, lacing his fingers in yours. He pulls your gaze up to meet his own with a single finger under your chin. "For tonight and all nights to come?"

A smile blooms on your lips.

You already know what is happening.

Diavolo pulls away to kneel on one knee, never letting go of your hand. He gives it a sultry kiss and looks up at you, eyes locked onto yours.

"MC of the human world, mortal of our immortal love, would you honor me by being at my side?" Diavolo smiles. "From now, until the end of time?"

"Yes," You whisper, breathless. Unable to pull the demon lord up (goodness, with those muscles he's easily double your weight), you lean forward and thrust yourself into his arms, wrapping your limbs around him tightly, basking in his laugh as he returns the embrace.

Is this heaven?

You're grounded in hell, but the happiness flooding your body seems to be lifting you into an entirely new state of being. Your stomach literally feels like it's on fire, burning bright with excitement for the future. It's as if your life has changed with these words, and as if you're no longer just MC, but MC of MC and Diavolo. As if, with that proposal, the demon has made himself a part of you.

And the sheer joy of getting to share your life with another is all you need to be happy forever and ever.

This feeling is so much better than you'd thought it would be.

You knew he would ask, but hearing the words leave Diavolo's lips gave them a different weight than simply seeing a ring in a box. Where is the ring, anyway? Oh, Diavolo probably wants to give it to me later. You push the thoughts from your mind and hold him tighter, and the prince smiles. 

Still wrapped around his body, Diavolo rises and places you on the golden balustrade, admiring the sight before him.

"Thank you, my love. You truly are...perfect." Diavolo murmurs, giving you a kiss. From there, he trails to your neck, going lower and lower. Occasionally, he stops to give a spot of skin a tender suck, but as soon as a moan leaves your lips, he's reminded of his goal and continues downward until his head is directly between your thighs.

"D-Diavolo," You murmur as he presses kisses to the skin. "People will see."

"Let them," He mutter, leaning forward and ravishing you as if you're his last meal. It only then strikes you that Diavolo had planned this. All of this.

You smile as you lean your head back, letting your moans add to the noise of the chattering from within the castle. Such a perfect man, you realize. He'd known you would say yes, of course. It was probably at his instruction that Mammon had chased you to this balcony in the first place. Diavolo had probably even selected this dress because of how it gave him access to the warmth between your legs that he loved so.

"P-people," You stutter out, voice broken by pleasure. "G-going...to stare..." You thread your hand in Diavolo's locks, weakly trying to pull his head away, but in truth you don't want him to stop. A demon who's lived for literal thousands of years, Diavolo knows his way around your body better than you do, and he's always been able to bring you to paradise. Especially with that tongue of his.

"Let them stare," Diavolo mumbles as climax washes over you. "You're mine. All mine. My paramour."

At the back of your mind, something twists at the word. Paramour? Perhaps it means something different in the Devildom. But before you can think more about how humans consider a paramour to be more a mistress than a lover, Diavolo's lips are on your own and all your thoughts drift back to him.

"Shall we return to the party, darling?" He asks. Diavolo smiles his usual teasing smile, instantly back to normal. He winks, acting as if he hadn't just done something horribly indecent where any passing demon could have seen.

"Yes," You mumble, taking his arm. As he guides you back to the ballroom and invites you to dance, you can't help but feel like things are different now. My lover. You recall his words. From now, until the end of time.

Another wave of glee washes through you.

"I love you," You murmur as the waltz slows. Diavolo gives you his usual Prince Charming grin, spinning you in time with the music.

"And I love you," He steals a kiss from your lips. "You're so perfect, MC. I never should have been worried. Everything about you is just so...perfect."

"Aw, were you worried that I wouldn't say yes?" You ask, swaying with him. You bring the hand resting on his shoulder to his cheek.

"Only a little," Diavolo confesses. "I wasn't sure how you'd feel about this whole situation...I know it's different from what humans are used to."

"Different?" You laugh. "Even dating you was different from what humans are used to, given that you're—you know—a demon and all."

"But you love me anyway~" Diavolo cooes.

"But I love you anyway," You agree.

You two must dance for hours, merely waltzing back and forth. All around you, the couples change, stepping on and off the dance floor, but you and Diavolo remain. Arms around his neck, head resting against the firmness of his chest, you two are swaying more than you are dancing. Holding each other, more than you are moving. Loving, more than expressing.

The moment is so delicate. Truly precious. Untouched even by time, as the grandfather clock indicates that another hour has passed.

But like all good things, it too comes to an end.

"Now that you're my paramour," Diavolo murmurs softly, causing your ears to perk up. There's that word again. "I only have one other thing to do. Excuse me, my love."

You give the man a kiss on the cheek as he guides you off the dance floor, leaving you with Lucifer. The two of you busy yourselves with a glass of wine—Diavolo had brought champagne to the party specifically for you.

"It's not bad," Lucifer remarks. "But I must say that I prefer our Devildom alcohols more."

You laugh, taking another sip of your wine, continuing to make small talk with Lucifer. It's been a while since you left the House of Lamentation to come live with Diavolo, but there are more than enough times when you miss the chaotic demon brothers.

Unbeknownst to you, those two minutes while you chat with Lucifer are perhaps the last minutes to true happiness you feel for a very long time. You'll later wish you'd savored the moment more as you spoke with the demon, a small smile on your face with your mind half-lost in thoughts about the future you and Diavolo would be embarking upon. It's a moment of contentment, a moment of peace.

But blissful as it is, it's also a prelude to what must be true misery.

Because all good things must come to an end.

And this day has been far too good.

Or—later, you might realize—perhaps the entire day had been bad, with yourself only being too foolish to understand it? Perhaps this whole thing was, in truth, nothing but the calm before the storm?

Whatever the truth may be, the fact is that the moment you lay your eyes upon Diavolo, you're shattered. And with each word that leaves his mouth, you find your heart breaking into smaller and smaller pieces.

"Honored guests and friends alike, I have an announcement to make." Your eyes widen. At the top of the staircase from where Diavolo had begun the party, he now stands in his demon form, arm-in-arm with another demon. A woman. An exquisitely beautiful one, at that.

"The time for my coronation as king of the Devildom nears, and a king is nothing without a queen beside him. So it is with utmost esteem that I ask this question to my lady."

You watch in a queer mix of pain, confusion, and anger, as Diavolo drops to one knee in front of the woman. You want to close your eyes, want to look away. You can feel Lucifer's gaze on you, watching to see your response, but you can't bring yourself to care. Your mind is a mess. What is going on? You wonder as tears threaten to leave your eyes. Why is he proposing to another woman?

And then you see a shine in his hands as he opens a black velvet box, the very same box you'd opened this morning; and in this light, with this decor, the ring seems to glisten even more beautifully than the stars in the sky that you love so. "Would you, my fair lady, honor me by being my wife? From now, until the end of time?"

And at this moment, when you're positively certain that your heart cannot break any more, you feel the final blow come: with the soft but clear "yes" that echoes through the hall.

Then, chaos.

That's the only word for what happens next.

Chaos everywhere.

All around you, demons cheer and begin whooping in celebration for what they just witnessed. But at the same time, their haphazard chanting can't begin to compare to the distressed frenzy that your mind is in as you tear your way out of the hall, ignoring Lucifer's desperate cries of your name.

Only once you've found shelter behind closed doors do you allow yourself to give in to your emotions. You drop to the ground, clutching it for support when it feels as if the very foundation of your spirit has been ripped out. All you can think about is the image of what just happened: Diavolo, on one knee in front of another woman, holding the ring that you had thought was meant for you.

The only thing that drowns out your broken sobs is the sound of demons as they cheer and laugh, congratulating their lord for his new engagement.

***

Diavolo should have known better.

That's what Lucifer says, at least.

"Did you not account for the fact that she has no understanding of our customs, Diavolo?" The demon practically shouts, causing the prince to flinch. Diavolo is beyond used to Lucifer's wrath, but he's accustomed to seeing it directed at others. Never himself. And on any other occasion, Diavolo would have sharply reminded Lucifer of his place. But as the younger demon continues to rant angrily, even Barbatos stands silently, knowing full-well that Diavolo deserves every bit of it.

"And you! You're the prince! You've been a demon for thousands of years, you know what human customs are like! Their obsession with commitment and having a single spouse is one of the very reasons why they've always believed our polygamic traditions to be evil! No self-respecting human would ever agree to be a paramour—does MC even know what a paramour is?"

Diavolo looks away, shame flooding him. He's never felt this way. He's the future king, for crying out loud. "I had assumed that it was a part of RAD's curriculum. I thought it was all covered in Demon Studies."

"Diavolo," Lucifer begins, pinching the spot between his eyebrows. "The curriculum is designed for demons, not humans. Demon Studies isn't about demon culture, it's about demon history. Important wars. Famous battles. Reputed commanders. Major e-"

"Yes. I get it, Lucifer." Diavolo puts a hand up, silencing the man in front of him. "What's done is done. I know you are upset with me, but we have to figure out what to do about MC."

"My lord?" Barbatos interrupts. "She still hasn't left her room. She isn't responding to my knocks, either."

"Has she escaped?" Lucifer asks, startled.

"No," Barbatos pauses for a moment. "But unless my lord does something, she plans to."

"Thanks," Diavolo mumbles sarcastically, resting his forehead on his palm. Twelve hours ago, things had been going so well. MC had actually agreed to be his paramour—or well, now he knows that she thought he was asking her to be his wife, goodness—and he was finally free to propose to the powerful she-demon that he'd always intended on marrying. And of course, the demon had said yes, and Diavolo's life couldn't be more perfect: he had his wife, his future kingdom to inherit, and his paramour.

And now he's lost the single most important thing from that list.

You.

"I'm going to speak to her," Diavolo blurts, rising. "I need her to understand what I was proposing...and what her new role is. The moment she said yes, she was bound to me by contract. She has to at least try to understand-"

"Diavolo, you can't possibly expect that the contract properly formed under those circumstances."

Diavolo quiets Lucifer in an instant, unbuttoning his shirt to reveal the tattoos that covered his lower body. To anyone else, little change would be noticeable. A prince, Diavolo had been blessed hundreds of times over, and thus had a plethora of protective spells materialized on his skin. But to his right-hand man, who knows Diavolo better than the prince perhaps knows himself, the new tattoo stands out: a small design, just above the V that dips beneath Diavolo's pants.

"The contract...actually formed?" Lucifer mutters in disbelief. "Diavolo, these aren't the standard characters of paramour contract. The markings read 'true lover.' Surely you understand that it is a warning of—"

"It means that MC is my true lover," Diavolo interrupts before Lucifer can dirty the meaning with any other notion. "And that I am hers. If I have the mark, she has it as well. The gods of hell have recognized our union."

"My lord, what if she does not wish to be yours?" Barbatos ventures. "She is a human, after all. They are known to be fickle. And paramour is not a word they consider positive, by any means."

Diavolo doesn't respond. Like his events, his plans are reckless and more driven by emotion than logic and reason.

MC will understand, won't she? Diavolo tries to console himself with the thought. Your understanding and compassionate nature was part of the reason why Diavolo fell in love with you in the first place. You'll understand. You have to.

Diavolo doesn't know what he'll do if you don't.

***

Since coming to the Devildom, you've felt a lot of things. Excitement, at the prospect of new classmates. Frustration, at the antics of your roommates in the House of Lamentation. Worry, when you grew intimate with Diavolo and had to keep it a secret. Happiness, when the two of you decided to finally announce your relationship. And sadness—lots of it—after the events that transpired yesterday.

But this is the first time you've felt such fury.

"You're telling me," You mutter, too livid to even look at the man you'd once been proud to call your lover. "That when you proposed to me yesterday you were asking me to be your paramour? And that by accepting, I gave you permission to take another wife?!"

"Not another wife..." DIavolo trails off, not meeting your gaze. But when he sees you clench your fists and grow even angrier, he's quick to continue. "She's the only one! I won't take any other wives!"

"Does it make a difference? It doesn't matter if there's one other woman or one million in your life. How do you expect me to be okay with this? Why would any woman be okay with this? Who in their right mind would consent to being a paramour?! A paramour is just a glorified concubine—you keep her in your castle because you love her, but she's not good enough to be by your side and be called your 'wife.'"

"No, no, no." Diavolo stands up and forces you to meet his eyes, forces you to see how sincere he is. But somehow, the fact that he genuinely believes that the concept of a paramour is even okay only further enrages you. "Wives and paramours are different, you can't compare them. I know it's different from the human world, but in the Devildom, all the little girls grow up wanting to be paramours. A paramour is special. A person takes a paramour only out of love, not for her last name or her rank or her title. It's the better one. A wife is just someone who bears children. Nothing more. As soon as I have an heir, I won't even need to think about my wife! It'll just be you, my sweet, sweet paramour, and—"

"How can you truly love me if you have children with another woman? Don't act like a wife is nothing special. There's a reason why we in the human world say that the most sacred bond a man and woman can have is that of a husband and wife. You've chosen this woman. You want her. For her looks, for her nobility, her title, her—"

"Her fertility," Diavolo interrupts. "That is all. She bears our relationship no harm."

"You're asking me to be a glorified concubine." You repeat, scowling. "A mistress. The other woman."

"These are human concepts you're bringing in, dear," Diavolo murmurs. "You are my only love. And...MC, you physically cannot be my wife. You..."

You narrow your eyes, daring Diavolo to finish that sentence.

And foolishly, he does.

"You can bear me no children."

You raise your hand, poising it to slap Diavolo across the cheek, when you hesitate. Why? Why should you waste a single second more on this man who would never be fully committed to you? He's already made it clear that he won't be canceling the engagement he has with his future wife.

And you refuse to be any man's side piece.

"Get out." You scowl.

"MC, please, you know that I—"

"If you won't get out, I will."

Before you can leave the room, though, Diavolo has pulled you into his lap. "Let go," You hiss, thrashing in his arms. But the man is a demon, future lord of the Devildom, and is truly the strongest man in the entire kingdom. And you're just a human. Faced with his strength, you're nothing.

"Darling, please. Please. Just let me speak. Give me one minute. That's all I need. One minute." Slowly, you cease your movement. It's a silent indication that, yes, you'll give Diavolo a minute to speak. But no more.

"Darling, I love you. You are everything. I love you so much, and when I asked you to be mine...I truly thought you knew that I was asking you to be my paramour. I am sorry for the distress I have caused you these past hours." Diavolo places a soft kiss to your neck, letting his lips lay on what is normally your weak spot. But when you don't respond, he opts to continue.

"But there's something you need to see. A...a proposal to a paramour in the Devildom is sacred. I know you don't see it that way, but it is even more sacred than a proposal to a wife. And...it's viewed as a contract." Diavolo slowly lifts the edge of your shirt up. Your hands instantly go down to cover yourself, not wanting to give the demon a chance to give you any pleasure that might distract you from your current anger, but then you see what the man must have been trying to show you.

"How...?" You ask, and for the first time today, your words aren't coated with rage as you speak.

You pull yourself out of Diavolo's lap and go to the full-length mirror, raising your shirt higher on your stomach. You remember last night, when you'd felt a burning sensation over your stomach after accepting Diavolo's proposal. You'd thought the feeling to be a part of your happiness at being (you thought) Diavolo's wife, but now it becomes painfully obvious that it had been something else entirely.

There, on your lower abdomen, just above your underwear line but below your belly button, lies a delicate symbol. You squint at it, running your fingers over the mark—but the ebony black characters feel like they're a part of your skin, as if they've always been there.

"I have one to match," Diavolo says with a smile. He unbuttons his shirt and approaches the mirror, standing next to you. "Mine says 'true lover,'" He murmurs into your ear. The proximity makes you shudder, and you have to remind yourself that you're angry with the man. But as he lifts your shirt above your shoulders, shedding his own top in turn, you find that whatever emotions you were feeling before have been replaced with a new sense of longing.

"I'm still angry." The words are more for you than they are for him. It's as if saying them excuses how responsive you're being to Diavolo's touch as he strokes your sides.

"I know you are," He mumbles, kissing you.

"I'm not okay with being your paramour," You continue, only to be met with another 'I know' as Diavolo's lips ghost over your neck.

And as he gives the sensitive skin a tender suck, you can't help but lean into his arms for support, even as he continues to trail lower down to your stomach.

"I love you," he mumbles into your skin, licking the spot where your body is branded with the mark of the paramour. He leans back to admire the character.

And that's when things go downhill.

"Diavolo?" You ask, cupping his cheek. "What's wrong?"

You flinch as the man's grip around your waist tightens, watching in confusion as he stares daggers into the spot on your stomach that he had been gazing at so tenderly before. You see his eye twitch before he abruptly stands up and begins dressing himself.

You watch in disbelief. Diavolo's expression has changed completely, unwilling to meet your eyes and practically ignoring you.

"Diavolo, why—"

"MC, please be quiet. You wanted to be left alone? Very well, you will be left alone." Diavolo is now scowling as he buttons up his shirt, not even bothering to wear his cape as he makes for the door.

"Wh-what happened?" You ask, pulling on his sleeve. It's a futile attempt. The man is double your weight and over ten times as strong, but he humors you and stops before the door. "Diavolo, please. What did I do? Are you angry?"

"MC," Diavolo speaks, not facing you. His tone is dark. "It's best for the both of us if you are not with me right now."

He yanks his sleeve from your grasp, slamming the door shut in your face as he storms out, leaving you an even bigger mess of emotions than when he walked in.

You slowly make your way to the mirror, staring at the character on your stomach. You can't read what it says, but something about it seemed to anger Diavolo. After nearly half an hour of being more furious than you've ever been in your entire life, you know that the dark emotion Diavolo was trying to hide was rage itself.

But what could have made him so angry?

You stare at the spot on your stomach, before frustration begins to amalgamate once more. What right does Diavolo have to be angry with you, right now? Isn't it supposed to be the other way around?

Right, you remember. When he kissed you, it was so easy to forget that he was asking you to be his paramour, his trophy-wife-that's-not-even-good-enough-to-be-a-wife lover. But now?

You scowl into the mirror, crossing your arms.

Diavolo can be angry all he wants.

His fury won't change yours. And I'm justified in my anger, you think, before a knock breaks you from your thoughts.

Not even bothering to wear your shirt, you march over to the door. This had better be Diavolo, ready to apologize, you think, before swinging it open.

But the face that greets you is smaller. Shorter. Olive eyes and mismatched hair, it's Barbatos who greets you.

"My lady," He murmurs stiffly. For a millisecond, his eyes dart down to your body, and his eyes widen in surprise. You're not sure why the demon butler looks so startled to see your exposed stomach. Demons in the Devildom have little sense of shame when it comes to nudity, as you'd learned from Lucifer's and Barbatos's utter indifference to constantly walking in on your nude form during nights with Diavolo. If anything, you're more covered than usual.

"No need to call me that, Barbatos. I'm Diavolo's secret lover. The only 'lady' you'll be needing to bow to is that wife of his," You sigh and leave the door open, a subtle invitation inside.

Speaking with Diavolo did quell most of your anger. Talking to Barbatos can't hurt, right?"

"If my lady wishes for me to call her MC, I shall," Barbatos says, shutting the door behind him. "But don't delude yourself into thinking that you're Diavolo's secret lover. A paramour is respected more than a wife, here. The whole realm will know you: face, name, history. It will be an honor."

"It will be a humiliation," You interrupt. You throw your shirt on, beginning to rant. "The whole realm will mock me: the prince's concubine. His whore. The idea that I'm not good enough to be his only lover is an insult. A paramour is disgusting and—"

"Then perhaps someone else is better suited for the role?"

You stop, pondering the words.

Barbatos looks at you with one eyebrow raised, gaze unwavering as he sees into your soul. You want to look away, want to ignore him, want to act as if that one question isn't the very conflict you've been torn over.

But you can't.

Diavolo has made it clear that the only way he'll have you be his lover is as his paramour. And every fiber of your being refuses to be paramour to a man who has a separate wife. So that truly only leaves one option, doesn't it?

"I don't have any other choices, do I?" You say dryly, realizing the nature of the situation you're in.

"If you cannot be his paramour," Barbatos agrees. "You cannot be his lover."

You sigh, leaning back against the bed.

It's been dwelling at the back of your mind for hours, but now as the truth begins to unshroud itself, you find the decision at the forefront of your mind.

Perhaps someone else is suited for the role, you think. Against your will, a memory of Diavolo's soft reddish locks flashes through your mind. You've always loved to play with them, and the demon lord always let you. He'd let out a gentle hum as you'd massage his scalp, a smile tugging at his lips as your fingers would lose themselves in his hair.

Perhaps someone else is meant to be Diavolo's paramour.

Another memory jumps into your thoughts, an image of the two of you dancing in the ballroom. Despite the situation, you smile at the thought. Diavolo adores dancing with you. It's his favorite thing to do: a respite from the daily struggles of the Devildom. There hasn't been a single week where he hasn't invited you down to the ballroom at least once. Even if there's no party, he would lead you into the hall, casting a cassette to play for you as the two of you danced the night away.

Perhaps I can never be the woman he needs me to be. The paramour he seeks.

A new image comes to mind, more recent. Diavolo's sleeping face. Normally, you would take to admiring his body in the morning, running your hands over his muscles and abs and sometimes the sensitive organ between his legs - but that morning, you'd been drawn to his face. The face of the man you loved. The face of a prince.

And slowly, you realize the truth.

The face of the man I cannot have.

"You're right," You say to Barbatos. Your voice is barely a whisper, but the butler seems to have heard you all the same.

You cannot carry the weight of being Diavolo's paramour. You're too human. It conflicts with your nature too much. And just as the relation Diavolo sought from you is too horrid for you to bear, the relationship you seek from Diavolo is one that's too far from the demon lord's customs.

He'd told you this when you first kissed him: that a human and a demon have no place together. Much less, a human and the ruler of the Devildom.

At the time, you'd only smiled into his lips, wrapping your arms around his neck for more.

But now those words have hauntingly returned, more true than ever before.

A human and a demon have no place together.

And you and Diavolo are no exception.

"I'll help you move your things into Purgatory Hall. For the remainder of the exchange program, you'll want to be there." Barbatos turns, walking to the door. "I'll leave you to inform lord Diavolo of your decision."

"Wait!" You blurt before you can stop yourself, grabbing the demon's wrist.

He turns to you, expression nonchalant. His gaze is normally intimidating, but as you stand before him all you can think about is the pure apathy in his eyes: now that you've decided to no longer be his lord's lover, he truly does not care about you.

But you won't let that stop you from asking.

"I...Diavolo said that the symbols on my stomach are characters. For words. What..." You trail off, trying to find your courage. "What does it say?"

Barbatos steps toward you, lifting your shirt with his left hand. A gloved finger traces the dark markings, and he begins speaking.

"This is the mark of the paramour. On most, it'll just be the character for 'lover,' but sometimes...in truly special instances, there'll be a description character as well. Diavolo's mark reads: true lover."

"What does mine say?" You whisper.

Barbatos brushes the mark with his thumb, his touch oddly gentle as he strokes the branded skin. His eyes never leave yours, and you think that it's a gesture of kindness until you catch the glint of morbid cruelty as he watches your reaction to his next words.

His gaze bores into you, staring past your eyes and into your heart as he shatters it with the truth.

"False lover."

MASTERLIST

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | ✔

Word count: 5.5k

Notes: Ive had this idea for diavolo since the day i opened this game, and i finally got around to writing it x3 its a lil angsty right now, but it gets better~ happy endings here, promise <3 im expecting this to be either 2 parts MAYBE 3, so stay tuned :D

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Next Update: 4/28/20