#the devil x reader

FIRST ENCOUNTER

Your friend convinces you to go to the casino-- just for fun. You’ve never been before, so you agree, figuring a drink or two won’t hurt. You’re not here to gamble, and you’re certainly not here to make deals with the Devil.

Typically, the Devil is a busy man. You won't find him at the casino (surprisingly); he's usually behind the scenes living a luxurious lifestyle while tormenting the living. But today? Today, he’s out surveying his territory, sniffing out “fresh meat.”

The moment his gaze lands on you, something inside him clicks. He knows he's found it.

He turns on the charm instantly-- silken voice, calculated smile and , casual small talk meant to lull you into a false sense of security. Just a little smalltalk will lead to something more sinister later.

“Well, well, well… who do we have here? Haven’t seen you around before.”

But you're smarter than he initially expects. You don’t bite. You're dismissive and shut him down at every turn.

Money? Not interested.

Games? No thanks.

Fame? Nope.

You’ve heard enough stories about him to know better, and the nervous glances from other patrons only confirm your suspicions.

You're obviously uncomfortable, so you finish the rest of your drink and head for the exit with your friend.

But he's insistent, and your disinterest makes him itch. The closer you get to the exit, the more his composure cracks. That smug smile starts to strain as his need to win twists into something else entirely.

“You’re really just gonna walk away? From me?”

Why is your soul suddenly so important? You're not bound to be his by contract; You’ve made no deals, no bets, no promises… yet the thought of letting you walk away feels unbearable.

You find yourself merely meters from the doors, almost to freedom, when his hand shoots out, gripping your arm. You whirl around, wide-eyed, but before he can say a word, your friend yanks you through the exit.

That was the last time you saw him-- at least, in the open. Now, he’s everywhere.

OBSESSIVE TENDENCIES

• The Devil is used to sleeping soundly in his king-sized bed, wrapped in opulence, with all his vices satisfied. But now? Now he can't have the one thing he wants: you.

• He can’t eat, can’t rest, can’t enjoy his usual pleasures-- tormenting the living, destruction, arson, basking in his own glory-- because every thought comes back to you.

• 100% stalker energy, but not in the way you may be thinking. At first, the stalking is “practical.” He learns your daily routine, your habits, your friends-- all in the name of “strategizing.”

But by day three, the plan changes. You’re no longer just a soul to claim.

• He notices the little things: Your laugh, the way you brighten up the room, and the kindness you show even when you don’t have to. How disgusting. But he keeps watching. And watching... and watching.

• Henchman spotted it first, ahead of all the demons residing in the underworld.

“Uh, Boss? You’ve been starin’ out that window for three hours.”

“…Shut it, Henchman. I'm busy.”

The way his boss is distracted, lingering, lost in thought. This sends alarm bells ringing. It’s not a strategy anymore. It’s fixation.

• The Devil uses his shapeshifting. Not to lure or scare you but to stay close-- slipping into the crowd as a stranger, perching in the form of an animal, anything to keep you within reach.

You're smiling. You're laughing. You're full of life, constantly on the move, and most importantly, you've got that sparkle and pizazz he craves so deeply.

• You’re vibrant, untouchable, magnetic. That sparkle in your eyes-- it’s addictive, and worse, it scares him. HIM-- the Devil. 'Cause this isn’t about winning a game, or even about your soul anymore. No. This is about you. And the Devil doesn’t drop the things he wants.

• He turns up everywhere you go-- sometimes casually leaning against a lamppost with that smug smirk, other times lurking in the corner of your eye when you swear you’re alone.

• It’s not a coincidence; he wants you to know you're under his watch.

• There will be some instances where you meet with him again. Especially if you are joining the cup brothers on their tirades. You see everything-- his temper, malice, and... efforts to court you?

• He will go to absurd lengths to win your approval, to appear “cool” in your eyes. Desperate doesn’t even begin to cover it.

Fancy outfits, Over-the-Top Grand Gestures, showing off his “connections”, competing for his attention.

If someone else makes you laugh, he’ll instantly interrupt with a bigger, louder joke or trick.

• Naturally, you fear him (for the most part), but you become more 'accustomed' to his presence as time goes on. There are two different paths you could go on in this instance:

Path #1: What if you actually become attached to him?

• In his eyes, this is nothing short of divine providence-- a wish he didn’t even have to trick you into making.

• He doesn't need the kidnapping, gaslighting, lies, stalking, eliminating rivals. He'll be a happy man-- however, he's going to be attached to you practically 24/7.

• Your affection becomes his greatest treasure… and his most addictive drug. Every smile, every compliment, every loving glance feeds his massive ego until he’s strutting around like the king of the underworld he believes himself to be.

• After all, someone as dazzling as you choosing him? It’s proof, in his mind, that you truly see the “magnificent heart” beneath the horns and hellfire.

• You’ll have your own bed, shower, and space; he’ll feed you anything you crave. Be docile, and he’ll rub your back, lean against you, kiss your forehead, and spend hours gazing at you with an almost unsettling tenderness.

• His favorite thing is holding you and wrapping his arm around your waist-- it's a statement for sure, but also, it takes the edge off of his 'busy life.’

• But also… HOLD HIM.

• PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF EVERYTHING—HOLD HIM, too.

• Surprisingly a sweet and passionate lover. When you walk into the room, his entire demeanor changes. He's instantly gushing or yapping to you about something trivial that happened earlier that day.

• You are the only person (besides Henchman) that he will open up to. Emotionally and mentally-- but don't take that for granted.

Path #2: You have no romantic interest.

• Definitely has tantrums knowing that you don't seem to like him. When that realization hits, he’s livid-- ranting in front of Henchman while igniting into flames like a full-blown firenado with every furious gesture.

• The Devil is not self-aware in the slightest-- A man of immense pride, he simply cannot comprehend why you aren’t attracted to him.

Oh, by the way, he remembers how your buddy yanked you out of those exit doors. He’s not letting that go.

• He will isolate you from anyone who might get in the way of his connection to you-- including that friend.

• His methods range from sly and mysterious to devastatingly blunt. If they continue to be the barrier protecting you from him-- they have to do it just enough times to where he becomes sick of it.

• There are different ways he can go about this, from dark to mysterious and devastating. Yeah, they're gone. I don't think he'd kill them, but it is in the realm of possibility.

• If you’re connected to the Cup brothers-- whether as family or close friends-- they’ll know exactly who’s behind this, thanks to their own history with him. And yes, the Devil is still trying to steal Cuphead's soul... but he found an even better idea!

DEALING WITH THE DEVIL

You soon find yourself in a dire situation. The Cups are captured, and you’re the only one left to fight for their return.

Then, he makes you an offer-- a deal laced with poison: He’ll end his tirades against the Cups, release them unharmed, and erase Cuphead’s soul debt entirely… but at a cost. And that cost is you.

“Here’s the deal. I let the boys go, wipe Cuphead’s debt clean… and in exchange, you’re mine. Forever.”

Unfortunately, this does lead to a bad ending. Even if you play your cards right.

This was his plan all along, a perfect trap designed just for you. And he already knows your answer-- because you’d do anything for them.

Desperate, you agree. And he actually keeps his word (shockingly). The Cups are free, but now you’re the one trapped in his claws. Maybe forever.

AFTER THE DEAL

• Once you’re isolated? Oh, you’re stuck.

• Now that you belong to him, this will be an unsteady and unhealthy ride.

• Are you upset? In tears? Furious? He’ll still try to comfort you, even if you curse at him, shove him away, or spit venom in his face. No matter how many times you tell him you hate him, his delusion holds fast-- he believes you must feel the same as he does now that your soul is his.

“Easy, easy… you’ll warm up to me. You have to.”

Though, it wounds his pride when you glare at him. Hurts him, even. Seeing you upset is the only thing that dims his fire. :(

• And if you try to run? He’ll give you a head start— just enough for your hope to flicker—before appearing in front of you without a bead of sweat, looking entirely amused. “Going somewhere, hmm?”

• He’s an emotional gambler. If sweet-talking doesn’t work, he’s not above using guilt or pity. You’ll hear sighs, wounded remarks about how “cruel” you’re being and ignites the theatrics like he’s the tragic hero in a doomed romance.

• His threats, when they come, are dressed as charming little quips-- lighthearted enough to almost fool you-- until you catch the cold glint in his eyes. Spoiler: he’s not joking.

• Deep down, he hopes you’ll eventually develop Stockholm syndrome. He’ll apologize with expensive gifts, lavish meals, or soft touches meant to soothe. It never works.

• If you behave, he'll be good to you.

• He'll make sure you are well taken care of. So follow his rules, and he'll rub your back and lean against you. He'll kiss your forehead and gaze at you for hours.

• His love, when he thinks it’s reciprocated, is soft and gentle-- regardless of whether you truly care for him or not. You’re still stuck.

____________________________________________________

• Henchman may serve the Devil, but there’s a streak of goodness in him. He might help you… or perhaps you’ll have to wait for the Cups to mount a rescue.

The only people that have a sliver of a chance to help you are Henchman and the Cup brothers. Without them, you stand no chance.

It all started about two months ago with a dare. A stupid, small one that you didn’t think much of at the time.

It was one of those rare occasions where all of you had a day off from work at the same time. You hadn’t seen your friends in a while and the three of you ended up at your local mall to catch up.

It had been a Sunday afternoon. The mall was a bit busier than usual, full of people trying to savor every minute of the day before Monday came. You and your friends stopped at almost every open shop, mostly window shopping, except for one of your friends who was a certified shopaholic. Her bags were accumulating with every stop.

Eventually, all of you were a bit worn out from walking, taking seats in the food court to eat and chat.

You had known your friends, Becca and Dylan, for years. You had first met them in high school. They were nowhere near perfect but they were the two that had stuck by your side the longest, your friendship enduring all of the ups and downs of adulthood as the three of you entered your careers.

“Do you really need all that?” Dylan said with a mouthful of pizza, looking down at all of Becca’s shopping bags.

“Nope. But I want all of it,” she said, smiling.

“You have a problem,” Dylan joked.

He took another bite of pizza and looked over at you, nudging you with his hand.

“What’s up with you? You’re quiet today,” he said.

You shook your head.

“Nothing, I’m just thinking is all,” you said.

“Something is always going on in that head of yours. What exactly are you thinking about?” he questioned.

“How exhausted I am from work. And how I haven’t had a decent date in years,” you mumbled.

“I told you I could hook you up with Be-“

“I’m not going out with your work buddy. He creeps me out,” you said.

“Just letting you know that the offer is still there,” he shrugged.

Dylan turned his attention back to Becca who was staring at something away from the table. He turned, trying to follow her line of sight but couldn’t tell what she was looking at.

Dylan turned back around and waved his hand in her face.

“Girl, who are you staring at?” he asked.

“Look at that guy,” Becca said, pointing to a table near the edge of the food court.

You and Dylan turned to look. At the table sat a bald man covered in facial tattoos. He had spiked piercings running down his jaw and forehead. He was sitting alone although you quickly noticed that there was another tray of food beside his own, presumably from someone who had stepped away for a moment.

“A face only a mother could love. Am I right?” Dylan joked, raising his hand for a high five.

“I am not high-fiving you for that shit. That’s not nice,” you mumbled.

“That’s not nice,” he mocked.

He turned to look at you and then back at the tattooed man.

“Why don’t you go be nice then?” Dylan said, gesturing towards the man.

You looked at him confused.

“What?” you asked.

“You were just complaining about being single. Go talk to him,” he said.

“You really want them to go talk to the devil incarnate?” Becca chimed in.

“God, you two are mean today,” you scoffed.

“Why not? He won’t bite…I hope. Besides, I dare you,” Dylan said.

“You dare me? Really?” you said, rolling your eyes.

“Too chicken to go talk to a guy? It’s okay. You can admit it,” he said, antagonizing you.

“I am not,” you huffed.

Dylan stuck his hand out in front of him, almost like he was presenting the man at the table.

“Prove it. Go get his number,” he said.

You weighed your options, glancing over at the man, before standing up. You hardly ever approached guys. You felt nervous but also slightly competitive, wanting to prove your friend wrong.

You hesitantly walked through the tables, maneuvering your way around the people in the court. You could hear Dylan clap behind you but you chose to ignore it as you approached the man sitting at the table.

“Um, hi,” you said, walking up to the table.

The man turned his head to look at you. Up close you could get a better look at him. His face was heavily modified. The entirety of his eyes were black. He had his eyebrow pierced on one side. His tattoos that covered his face above his mouth were only filled in one side. You couldn’t tell if it was intentional or just not finished.

“Hello. Can I help you?” he said.

God, his voice was deep. You had never heard a voice as deep as his. It sent shivers down your spine.

“I just…wanted to ask about your piercings,” you said.

It wasn’t exactly the truth but it wasn’t exactly a lie either. It’s not like you were going to tell the man you approached him on a dare.

A small smirk crept up on his lips.

“What would you like to know?” he asked.

And that’s what started it all.

You ended up sitting and talking with him for much longer than expected. The more he talked, the more curious you got.

He told you about his piercings, about the pain. About his tattoos and his pointed ears. About his blackened eyes, which you learned were in fact tattooed as well. You found it all far more fascinating than you previously thought.

Eventually, the conversation came to an end when another man, heavily pierced and scarred, came up to the table, telling the other it was time to go.

“Give me a call sometime. Or better yet, come visit me.”

You had walked away that day with a card. A simple business card for a body modification shop with the man’s phone number scribbled on the back of it, right underneath the printed business number.

Dylan and Becca had been in shock. They didn’t know what was more surprising, the fact that you had gotten his number or the fact that the next week you were being given a tour of the body mod shop he helped run.

A small dare had sent you right into the arms of the Devil.

Becca still called him that. She didn’t even bother to learn his name.

Anytime she was around she would ask you things like, “Going to see the Devil tonight?” or “Are you still messing around with the Devil?”.

The joking stopped once she realized that you were seriously falling for him. She didn’t get it and neither did Dylan, he was far from either of their types, but they were happy for you nonetheless.

Flash forward to now, two months from the day you two met and you were practically living with him.

The two of you were sprawled out on the couch, you curled up on his chest, resting your head under his chin.

His hand ran back and forth on your back, gentle and soft.

The TV was quiet, playing some random show you both had settled on.

“I’d love to tattoo you one of these days,” he said, his deep voice cutting through the quiet room.

His hand drifted down, resting on your hip.

“Only if you want to, of course. I can do anything you’d like,” he said.

You shifted from your position, putting your leg over him and pulling yourself up on his lap, sitting there. Both of his hands snaked around you, holding you there.

“That would be nice. I would like that,” you said.

You brought your hand up to his face, tracing over his mouth tattoo. He kissed your fingertips as your finger grazed across his lips.

“Are you thinking about any more tattoos for yourself?” you asked.

“Always. I need to get my chest done. But you know I’m not gonna stop at just tattoos, right?” he asked.

“I know. What other plans do you have?” you asked.

“I want my tongue split for starters,” he said.

“Really? I wonder what it’ll feel like kissing you after that,” you said.

He chuckled, pulling you closer to him and pecking your lips.

“You’ll just have to wait and find out.”

He held onto you as you curled back into him, nuzzling right underneath his jaw piercings.

As you slowly drifted off in his arms you couldn’t help but think that maybe you should take up doing dares more often.

Being in a (romantic) relationship with The Devil would include:

• It’s actually hard for him to fall in love or even trust others, so it’ll take a while for him to say “I love you”.

• Though the first time he’ll ever say “I love you” (most likely after a few months of you two dating) it is immediately followed by a scrunch of the face and him going. “That was… strange..” 

• He forces you to live in Hell with him, and only lets you visit Earth on special occasions. Family stuff, friends, but other than that YOU’RE STAYING!!

• He’s so dramatic whenever he has to cut his nails. He’ll run away from you, or hide. Once, while trying to find him to cut his nails, you found him on the ceiling.

• Despite hating his nails being cut, he will literally beg you to paint his nails. He won't just do one color though, he likes to change it up a bit. Sometimes he'll ask for grey, gold, red, but he loves the black nail polish!

• Whenever he has to do stuff that he doesn’t want to do, he tries to argue that he’s the devil and because of that, you can’t tell him what to do.

• One of his favorite activities is burning bibles, so...you have to deal with being woken up to the smell of smoke at 3AM.

• He's still not fond with current technology, but he does seem to enjoy Netflix.

• Devil giving you weird pet names: Darlin', succub!tch, shmoopie, baby-cakes, cow-pie, and tortoise-pigeon (Being the main nickname).

• If you ever need to practice your makeup on someone, Devil won't mind. He likes how it makes him look.

• Surprisingly enough, this guy brushes his teeth regularly. He got them pearly whites. That, and he doesn't want to loose his sharp teeth, they're his favorite, apparently they make him look intimidating.

• Devil is a man of art, very therapeutic for him. He loves to paint, sometimes he’ll want you to pose for him. And he's actually quite quick when it comes to painting.

• Both you and Henchmen helping him whenever he basically gets electrocuted by the sweater. The two of you are practically the only people he trusts, with Dice being the third.

• He doesn't care what gender you are, or if you're trans. If you're still you, and if you're not lying about anything, he won't care. Along with that he also doesn’t KNOW anything about that stuff, so you probably gotta help if you want him to understand.

• Even though he's the devil, he would never want you to feel bad about yourself. He loves you unconditionally, he would kill anyone who makes you feel that way, steal their soul, eat it, then spit it back out ‘cause it’s clearly rotten!

• If you go through the menstrual cycle and are having bad cramps, he gets very…awkward. He’s not very affectionate with others so he has no idea how to comfort people. He’ll most likely just have some of his little demons looking after you for a few days.

• He tries to use correct pronouns, he mostly slips up though, and he won't realize. You just have to be there to correct him for him to actually notice.

Random example:

(He's showing you to someone)

"Yeah, she's really adorable, isn't she?"

"It's 'they'.”

"...AHHH!" *frustrated demon noises*

• He’s not frustrated at you or the fact you use different pronouns, he’s frustrated at himself for not doing it right. So don’t worry.

Being in a relationship with King Dice would include:

• Probably says “I love you” way too fast, and by that I mean on the first date. 

• If you wear makeup he’ll experiment with it whenever you’re asleep. (The masculine urge to wear your partner’s makeup)

• One of his favorite parts of your body happens to be your hands. He loves how perfectly they fit into his. Sometimes he’ll preform a type of show using his hand and your hand as the actors.

• If you go sit in the audience him during Roll The Dice. He'll immediately see you in the crowd and blush for the rest of the show.

• When he knows you're in the audience, he'll say this while announcing to everyone: "Ladies and gentlemen! ..and (Y/n).." (he'll whisper your name under his breath, but loud enough for the microphone to pick it up.)

• King Dice ALSO giving you some (semi)weird pet names: Darling, fuzzy dice, you adorable gambler, my wild card, little poker, and pumpkin.

• The personification of drama. 

• Has a lot of gossip and info on the other famous people of Inkwell. Will tell you this gossip. You will listen. You have no choice-

• This man may seem like he knows how to do shit on his own, but he actually needs help with most things. Such as you having to help with this man's bow-tie every morning, because he just cannot figure it out for the life of him.

• Perfectionist, such a damn perfectionist. He won't go on with his day without him looking perfectly chipper, and he also spends hours in the shower. Really making sure to run up those water bills.

• A little sensitive about his age. If you ask him about it, he’ll say "that's not important" which is an oddly a creepy answer-

• If you wake up early, you'll find Dice in the bathroom just looking at himself in the mirror with a blank stare. If you actually enter the bathroom, he'll be so terrified that he jumps INTO the shower and closes the curtain to hide himself.

• He's mostly insecure about his pips, or dots. He knows he's getting old, because his color is fading. So...he buys lipstick to cover the faded coloring. But you smudged it once while he was kissing you, and he reacted like he was dying.

• He fiddles with his mustache when he's nervous and yet hates if tell him it makes him look like a villain.

• Much like his boss, if you go through the menstrual cycle he gets ungracefully awkward. But he tries to be very casual about it, despite his awkwardness being obvious as hell.

• “Oh, it’s that week?” Silent for a second. “Do you need me to get you anything or ..no?”

• Will buy you everything you need. And since stuff like tampons were fairly new in the 1930s and therefore most likely a tad expensive, thankfully he does have the money for it.

• If reminded, will carry some on him for you. If reminded that is, I’m putting emphasis on “IF REMINDED” for a f—king reason! Guy’s on autopilot all day, he’s famous but also has pretty much everything done for him, and so he doesn’t have to think about much.

• If not reminded he will completely forget and therefore freak the hell out if asked if for some.

• Like The Devil, he has no idea what being Non-binary means, or Bisexual, or anything related to that. I’m not saying he’s straight….He’s not, he just doesn’t know there are words for stuff like that other than ‘homosexual’ and a few other words I can’t mention-

• So, he'll mess up a few times when trying to use the correct pronouns, except he'll correct himself very VERY quickly. 

• "He- THEY.. are my partner. I said they, of course I did. I would never say anything other than they.” Silence for a few seconds before then saying in a much more serious tone: “I said they.”

The Devil is a difficult patient when it comes to cuddling, he’s so prideful that even a task as simple as affection is a game.

Depending on his mood he might swoop you right up without warning and keep you as long as he desires.

Other times, he’ll hint at it. He’ll make eyes, sigh, stand around watching you as if you could read his mind and if you don’t get the hint he will loudly complain about it at Henchman.

When cuddling he can go either way with the spoon energy.

When he’s the big spoon he likes petting your hair, back and arms. He enjoys giving your head kisses and giving you slight squeezes to make sure you’re awake and paying attention to him.

When he’s the little spoon, which don’t you even dare call it that. He likes being pet on the back, you can scratch the back of his ears but depending on his mood he might not appreciate it.

When cuddling he likes to talk, well… when doing anything he likes to talk. The devil has a lot to say and complain about anything under the sun.

At the end of the day, no matter how Prideful the Devil is he does require a lot of attention, affection and your focused attention. He can’t help it when he likes something or someone he wants to keep.

On another note if you surprise cuddle him it can go anyway. He could appreciate it, he could ignore you as you try to give affection or he might push you away.

If he appreciates it he drops what he’s doing and leans into it or takes over the affection giving, since he’s the Devil he’s better at affection than you.

If he ignores you, he continues doing whatever he was doing before you appeared and pretends as if you don’t exist.

And oh if he pushes you away, he will either coldly push you off and tell you to buzz off or he’ll find the most hurtful words to use to make you back off.

You hum a tune to yourself as you sit on the boat making its way towards Inkwell Isle. Maybe you’re reading a book? Or staring off into space? Perhaps you’re playing an instrument, or you might be writing in a journal? It doesn’t matter how you pass the time, you’re still able to admire the view of your childhood home and think to yourself about everything that’s been going on.

You are Y/n, and what your little brothers call, a spy. You work for an organization to help take down criminals and your role is usually to sneak into their base and impersonate a gang member so you can infiltrate them and take them down from the inside. You’ve been told by many of your co-workers and even some of the criminals you captured that you’re a master of disguise, even a rat would think you’re one of them even if you’re clearly not.

Because of your job, you usually have to travel the world and you can’t spend much time at home, so your boss has given you some time off work, usually two weeks every two months for you to visit your family.

Who’s your family? Why, Cuphead, Mugman, and Elder Kettle, of course! I won’t specify if you’re related to them or not, either way they’re still your family.

Once you get home, you open the gate and walk into the front yard of your family’s home. Before you could make it to the front door, the door is kicked open and Cuphead and Mugman run towards you.

“Y/N!!!” Your two little brothers tackle you in a tight hug, a hug which you return.

“I missed you two lil dum dums!” You laugh with a smile.

“We missed you too!” Mugman says happily.

“Didja bring any gifts for us!?” Cuphead asks excitedly.

“Cuphead!” Elder Kettle scolds the cup with a glare before turning to you. “We’re glad you’re back, Y/n.” He smiles at you.

“I’m glad I’m back, too! I missed you guys so much!” You say as you let go of the hug with your brothers. “Now, who wants their gifts? They’re souvenirs from my last three missions!”

“Me! Me!” Cuphead and Mugman say excitedly in sync.

“Alright.” You chuckle, grabbing your bag of gifts. You take out a light blue cowboy hat with a light pink flower on it. “First is the same cowboy hat the corrupted sheriff wore when she stole from the bank, for Mugman.”

You hand Mugman the cowboy hat, which he takes and puts it on, striking a superhero pose. “Now I’m the sheriff!”

You then take out a tarot card deck. “Now this is a tarot card deck the cult leader we imprisoned carried at all times, for Elder Kettle.”

You hand Elder Kettle the tarot card deck, which he takes with a smile. “Ah, just what I wanted! Thank you, Y/n.”

You lastly take out a small orange megaphone that fits in the palm of your hand. “And finally, the megaphone the mob boss used to communicate with me and other giants, for Cuphead.”

You hand Cuphead the small megaphone, which he takes and shouts through it. “Ey, it works! Even though it’s so small!”

“Now, boys. What do we say to Y/n?” Elder Kettle asks them.

“Thank you Y/n for the wonderful gifts!” Cuphead and Mugman say in sync.

“Aw, you’re welcome!” You smile at them.

“Now, why don’t you come inside? Your room is ready for you.” Elder Kettle says as he begins walking towards the house.

“Alright!” You smile as you pick up your luggage, walking into the house with Cuphead and Mugman following you, asking about your adventures.

The next day, you’re sitting in a chair in the living room, passing the time doing your own thing. Read a book, write, play an instrument, listen to the radio; whatever you want. Elder Kettle left to shop for groceries and other stuff he needs to get. You decided to stay to watch over your little brothers…speaking of which, they’re probably outside playing with Elder Kettle’s lucky tire again. As long as they don’t lose it or break it, you don’t care.

Speaking of the boys, you get up and lean over the window to check on them… Okay, they’re not outside and it’s way too quiet. They must’ve wandered off, again. You grab your bag you always carry with you and step outside. There’s a few spots you usually check first, which more often than not is where they’re at. First, the forest nearby the house.

“Cuphead, Mugman? Where are you?” You call out as you walk.

Silence…okay, maybe they’re playing hide and seek.

“Now isn’t the time for hide and seek; besides, you guys suck at hiding.” You say, taking a glance around the forest.

No response. Usually that gets a “you’re just good at finding us!” from Cuphead, but there’s nothing but silence. They’re probably not here, you assume. Next, time to check Porkrind’s. Maybe they’re wasting all their money again or annoying Porkrind.

You turn and start walking towards the shop, enjoying the peaceful silence of the forest. The bird’s chirping, the flora as beautiful as ever…

“GET BACK HERE YOU STUPID CUPS!!!” An unfamiliar voice shouts.

“RUUUUN!!!” You hear Cuphead’s voice, then him and Mugman yelling. You rush towards the commotion as fast as you can. Oh boy, what trouble did they get into now?

Thunk!

You bump into Cuphead and Mugman, who both fall on their butts from the impact. “Oww…”

“What’s going on?” You ask them, looking down at the two.

“Y/n!” Cuphead beams with a bright grin.

“Help us, the Devil’s chasing us!” Mugman pleads.

“The Devil?” You ask, raising your eyebrow.

Sure enough, the literal Devil comes running from the bushes, approaching the three of you with a look of pure anger. Your little brothers yelp and jump up, immediately hiding behind you. You move to a protective stance, keeping a brave face and shielding your brothers from the demon.

The Devil stops in his tracks right in front of you, taken aback by both you defending them and the fearless look on your face. “Move.” He demands.

“No.” You say firmly. You would’ve pulled out a weapon, but this is the literal Devil. Even you’re not confident enough to straight up attack him.

“Wha-” He gives you a look of genuine confusion and shock. “Why not? He owes me his soul and he won’t give it to me! He’s the one not playing fair!” He snaps, gesturing to Cuphead.

You turn and give him a look. “What did you do?”

“It was an accident!” He says.

“How were we supposed to know that carnival was a trap?” Mugman adds.

“If only we had that invisible, impenetrable sweater…” Cuphead mutters, looking down in thought.

“Ha! My demons and I have it in a secret, undisclosed location that you fools will never find!” Devil laughs with a cocky smirk.

“What happened while I was gone??” You ask, mostly rhetorically.

“A lot.”

“Who even are you?” Devil asks you. He thought he knew everyone who lived in that cottage, but apparently not.

“Y/n, and that’s my little brother’s soul you’re trying to steal.” You say, crossing your arms and giving him a sharp look.

“It’s not stealing if he’s the one who isn’t playing fair! He lost the game fair and square, his soul belongs to me now!” He snaps at you.

“You’re trying to take his soul way too early, he’s still a kid!” You snap back.

Devil takes a sharp breath, taking a moment to calm himself down. It wouldn’t do him any good in getting angry…hang on, a thought just came to mind. You’re not at all scared of him, which piques his interest, and you’re close with Cuphead…perhaps he could try to befriend you to get to Cuphead, and find out more about this interesting mortal who’s brave enough to snap at him.

“You know what…how about we talk about this like adults over tea- or coffee or whatever you want, I don’t care.” Devil asks you, giving you a very obviously fake smile.

You and your brothers’ all have one single thought; “...what-?”

“You heard me. You’re…a very interesting mortal, and I’d like to get to know you. What do you say?” He asks you, putting on a charming grin to persuade you.

You…are speechless. The Devil wants to get to know you, of all people? Wow, you are so…not fooled by his act. I mean, come on. It’s so obvious he’s trying to manipulate you…although, he did say something about having some invisible sweater that would keep Cuphead safe, so what if you beat the Devil at his own game and get close to him to find that sweater.

You give him a casual grin. “Sure, why not? Sounds nice.” You say.

“Wait, seriously-?” His grin falters for a moment before he puts his charming facade back on. “I-I mean, perfect! Where shall we go…Y/n?”

“Well, there’s this cafe I really like going to; we should stop by. Chat for a while.” You reply. Your brothers give you the most confused looks, completely baffled you’re “fooled” by his charms.

“Perfect! I’ll meet you there, just tell me the name.” Devil says, hiding his giddiness over his plan actually working.

You tell him the name of the cafe and where it is in town and he nods in response. “Perfect…I’ll meet you there, Y/n!” He says, already acting all buddy-buddy with you, before hitting the bottom of his pitchfork on the ground, disappearing in a cloud of smoke.

Cuphead and Mugman step out from behind you and give you a weird look. “Seriously!? You’re a master spy, but you’re that easily fooled by him!?” Cuphead asks, still baffled by what he just witnessed.

“Relax, Cups. I knew what he was trying to do. I have a plan of my own.” You shrug.

“Oh-”

“Yeah, that makes sense.”

“Now,” You kneel down to their height. “What can you tell me about that invisible sweater you mentioned?”

“Oh, that! Mugsy made it for me! It worked for a while.”

“Before the Devil got a hold of it. Now we don’t know where it is.”

“How does it work?” You ask.

“It electrocutes him!”

“But it’s very hard to find if you don’t know where to look. Ya can’t see it, after all.”

“Hmm, interesting…” You hum in response and stand up straight, thinking deeply to yourself. This might be the most difficult mission of yours yet, but you’re determined to help your little brother.

Here’s the longer fanfic if you want to check it out:

AO3 Link:

Wattpad Link:

God found out about his son’s trespassing not long after the incident. However, he couldn’t find it within him to be angry towards his favorite son. Instead, he had nurtured the young man’s curiosity. Not that Lucifer ever retained any of his father’s impassioned ramblings. He was much more interested in you. 

“They are to be Adam’s wife,” his father explained, a smile present on his ancient face. A pang ripped through the Devil’s chest. Though he couldn’t quite place why.

By the time his father finally began to sculpt you and your husband to be, the Devil thought whatever torch he carried would fizzle out.  

It did not. 

From the moment you opened your eyes, he had been ensnared. Shyness shook his normally so confident core. And to think that all it took was a gentle tilt of your head and a wry smile. A mirthful glint shone in your eyes as the Devil fought to hide the blush steadily overtaking his face. 

The Devil avoided you like the plague after your birth. He threw himself into his work– hoping that having you out of sight would put an end to this nonsense. Little did he know that absence only made the heart grow fonder. 

He was forced to sit back and observe the object of his obsession from afar– lest he’d make a blithering fool of himself. You were different from most of his father’s pet projects. Disinterested. Both in the role you were given and your husband. 

You always seemed to stare off into the distance. Towards the horizon. Paying the lush paradise and your husband no mind. Hell, you’d even looked annoyed when the only other human around spoke to you. 

The Devil didn’t recognize it then, but you, too, hungered for more; more than what you have, for beyond the garden grounds. Most of all, neither of you wished to be subservient to anyone. 

No matter how much he had tried, you never were able to bond or love Adam like God wanted to. What started out as courteous neutrality steadily gave way into contempt. Resentment bubbled beneath your stony exterior like magma within the earth. You were a ticking time bomb rigged to explode, and the Devil watched on with bated breath.

One day, you snapped. Neither you or the Devil could remember what started the argument. Only that it was enough for you to lash out and claw at your husband’s cheek– your eyes wide and teeth bared like a feral hellcat. Adam was quick to crumple to the ground, hissing in pain. You darted off into the underbrush, the rustles of disturbed foliage and the snaps of breaking twigs following in your wake.

By the time God had found out of your transgressions, you were long gone. No one could find where you ran off to. And though the Devil and his brothers were told to leave the incident behind, one look at his father’s face was enough to say it all: the deity was absolutely livid.

Hours turn into days, days into weeks. Time becomes a blur. Adam gains a new wife, and all is well in the garden once more. The bond between father and son weakens with each passing day; all the while your feral visage burned itself into the Devil’s mind. 

Then that fateful rebellion happened. A sword– burning like the rage within his former brother’s eyes– is pressed to the Devil’s neck; a clear victor had been declared. 

Shortly after, he fell. Screaming and burning until he was only a vague resemblance of his former self.

Life after falling wasn’t easy. He was alone, stripped of any power or influence,  and the phantom pains had haunted him constantly. His wings were broken and useless, forcing him to wander the hellscape by foot, and his appearance— oh, how he had changed. 

Truly, the Devil had hit rock bottom. 

And then, you came back into his life. 

In the centuries– eons– of his existence,  the Devil finds himself at a loss of words around you. You’d regarded him with a level of distrust at first– especially since he had accidentally let it slip that he’s known of your existence before you rebelled. 

It also didn’t help that, in spite of the fall scarring you– having charred the flesh of your arms and legs to a blackened and cracked state; feathers, dark and oil-slick like a raven, grew in uneven patches around your eyes, arms and thighs; and legs twisted and bent until they resembled the hind legs of a goat, complete with hooves – he thought you were absolutely gorgeous. 

It takes a long time for you to trust him. Especially since the last thing you had wanted was to bow down to Heaven’s disgraced golden child.  The two of you shared an acquaintanceship for a while– your interactions kept brief. However, you couldn’t deny that you were a little curious about the man. 

Soon enough, a working business relationship blooms between the two of you. The Devil comes to you in search of information– be it the whereabouts of potential contracts or certain souls on his list. In return, you gain a favor from the soon-to-be King of Hell; you saw how quickly he’s amassing power, you’d be a fool to pass up having someone as influential as him underneath your thumb. 

Not to mention that you may or may not have begun to enjoy spending time with him. What was once small shared rants on how much Heaven sucked ended up developing into something more. 

Once the Devil finally establishes his casino in Inkwell Hell, you find yourself treated as a guest of honor. You’ll be treated better than royalty within velvet-lined walls, an entourage of imps tending to your every whim, and drinks and food are given to you free of charge. Not to mention you have free reign to enter his office or balcony seat whenever you please. 

Acquaintanceship blossoms into an easy, flirtatious.. Whatever you two are. The Devil isn’t sure what to name the relationship he has with you at this point. You both share the same dry, sardonic sense of humor and are content to co-exist in comfortable silence – a part of him rather not muddy one of the few good things he has because he decided to think with his other head, so to speak. 

Then again, there are certain moments where he wonders..

You’d light the end of your thin cigarette against the plump tip of his cigar, eyes hooded and lips pursed as you hummed a low thanks; occasionally glancing at him from the corner of your eye. Chuckling to yourself every time he flushes and grumbles to himself. 

Every now and then you’ll indulge in drinks within his personal office. Occasionally you’d partake of his own cup, gently pressing your lips where his own rested not too long ago. Taking care to slowly lick at your lower lip each time you catch him staring. 

The way you’d pause whenever the larger demon would casually brush  a stray head feather back into place, gently dragging a claw against the vane in his own version of grooming. A shy flush overtaking your cheeks, turning away and covering your mouth as you grumble out to warn you next time.. 

How your gaze softens and body melts when either one of you recall the fall from grace; lamenting former glories and how your transformation left its scars, offering a saddened smile whenever he scoffs at the very idea that your were any less beautiful. 

For as long as both of you existed, for as much as both of you constantly blur the lines of platonic comradery and something the Devil dare not name in fear of getting his hopes up– the two of you are painfully oblivious.