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sondepoch · 5 years ago

Text

Part 2

Paramour (Diavolo x Reader)

You love Diavolo. And Diavolo loves you. But in the Devildom, relationships aren't as straightforward as that—and Diavolo being the future ruler of the Devildom certainly complicates things. So when you learn that he wants to spend the rest of his life with you, a human, you're overjoyed. Yet, there are still issues. Big issues. Diavolo wants you to be his paramour—whatever that means. But you want to be his wife. And with each passing moment, it's beginning to feel like even love can't bridge the gap between your worlds.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | ✔

MASTERLIST

There were only two weeks left in the RAD student exchange program when Diavolo asked you to be his paramour. Thirteen days, when Barbatos had helped you move your things into Purgatory Hall.

By the time there were ten days remaining, the demon brothers—with the exception of Lucifer, who was still hesitant to be openly by your side in front of Diavolo—had thrown you a huge party (in Purgatory Hall, much to Luke's horror) and by the seven-day mark, you had taken the last of your final exams.

But these past four days have been beyond slow going without Diavolo by your side to make the time pass by.

You frown, memories of the demon flitting through your mind.

You never even had the chance to speak to him about your decision.

The man had walked into your room, mouth open and about to start a conversation, when he saw how bare the walls and dresser were. It took him less than a second to realize that you'd already prepared to leave, that you were abandoning him and his palace and his paramour situation behind.

Diavolo left the room before you could even open your mouth.

You sigh, a noise soft enough to have been carried away by the gentle breeze flowing through the courtyard, but Simeon hears it nonetheless.

"What's wrong, little lamb?" He asks, putting down the feathered pen he's using to write his report. Barbatos informed you that you're excused of yours, but the other exchange students still have to complete this final assignment before you all return to your respective realms.

"Nothing, Simeon." You glance away, not wanting to distract the angel. "You should continue working on your report."

The angel chuckles and moves his papers aside. "I have three more days before I leave. I'm sure I'll be able to find time to complete this later, so tell me what's on your mind, hm?"

You glance hesitantly at the angel. He already knows the full story: you'd spent nearly an hour in his arms as he consoled you while you cried over the stupidity of a paramour and how unfair the whole situation was. Simeon had agreed with you wholeheartedly back then, and hadn't pressed you for more details. But it's obvious he's aware of the lingering doubts in the back of your mind. No question, he knows that your strained relationship—your lack of a relationship, rather—with Diavolo is the cause of your distress. But it can't hurt to tell him the deeper truth, right?

"It's just..." You let your voice trail off. "I don't see how I can ever be as happy as I was with Diavolo with anyone else. I...it...it scares me, to think of what kind of life I'll be leading when I return to the human realm."

"I see," Simeon murmurs, eyebrows furrowed in thought.

"And it's not just that," You continue. "What do I do when I go back? I've missed out on an entire year of life with my friends, and I know that when I return, it'll be like nothing happened because of all the protective magic spells and stuff, but what do I do with these memories? Do I keep them? Do I forget them? Are my memories...are they meaningless now?"

"Hey." Simeon interrupts your rambling, a light frown present on his face for the first time. He places his hands on your shoulders in a delicate but firm grip and forces you to look at him. "Your memories of your time here are not meaningless. Never say that, little lamb. Never."

He pulls you in for a comforting hug, arms wrapping tight around you to protect you from your own thoughts. You relax in his arms. His embrace is almost as reassuring as a certain redhead demon lord, and it's easy to close your eyes and forget the difficulties that have been plaguing your mind.

"I'm sorry," You mumble. "I didn't mean it like that. None of you are meaningless to me, Simeon. I just..."

"You're worried." Simeon finishes your sentence. "You're worried about the future, and about how you're ever going to be this happy again."

You nod your head.

It hurts to hear it out loud, but Simeon has the truth of it.

Being in the Devildom has brought so much color into your life. Beyond constant near-death experiences with various demons trying to eat you and the boring studies you had to work on, meeting the angels and demons has shown you a new world altogether: one of magic, chaos, and thrill.

How will going back to the human world, to your humble little abode and your quiet little friends, ever compare to the experiences you've gone through here?

"My sweet little lamb," Simeon smiles. "Let me guarantee your happiness."

You raise an eyebrow at the angel. If those words came from any other man, you'd be running the other direction right now. But you trust Simeon, so you'll humor whatever idea is in his head.

But with his next words, it becomes apparent that the supposed 'little' idea in his head is bigger than you could have ever imagined; and just as effective, too.

"Let me take you to the Celestial Realm," He whispers into your ear. His eager emerald eyes never leave yours as he clasps your smaller hands in his own. "Let me take you to Michael. And when you return to the human realm, you'll return with an angel's blessing. Michael's Blessing. The blessing of eternal happiness."

***

Satan is growing concerned.

That's what the blonde claims, anyway.

"Goodness, Lucifer!" He exclaims at breakfast upon seeing Lucifer's furrowed brows. "I haven't seen you half this wrathful since that prank Mammon pulled four thousand years ago when he dyed your wings pink with the—"

"Quiet, Satan," Lucifer seethes. He's not in the mood for any of his brother's antics, not when this much rage is consuming him.

"I'm just saying," Satan murmurs, leaning back as he stabs into his breakfast with his fork. "The last time you were this angry, your wrath gave birth to me, and the last thing I want is another brother."

Lucifer scowls, pushing his chair back as he stands up and gets ready to leave for the day. His brothers love to taunt him, evidenced by Asmodeus joining in on the teasing with some remark about how scowls this intense would cause wrinkles, and the demon walked out of the breakfast hall to the sound of Mammon's laughter and Levi's LOLOLing.

On any other day, he'd reprimand his siblings and put them in their place.

But today, he's saving his wrath for a special someone.

He speed walks across the RAD campus, long legs taking him to his destination with more purpose and stride than he's ever carried before.

"Barbatos," He growls when the butler opens the door to Diavolo's castle.

"Lucifer," The demon greets plainly, a familiar, ever-knowing smile locked onto his face. The sight of such a smug look almost makes Lucifer lose control of himself before he stops, remembering the reason why he came here in the first place.

I'm here for Diavolo, he tells himself. Not to fight the godforsaken butler.

"How is Diavolo faring?" Lucifer asks, removing his coat. He begins walking to the prince's office, only to be stopped by Barbatos.

"Worse than usual, this morning. My lord has yet to leave his bedchambers, so unless you'd like to do his paperwork for him, I'd recommend you go there."

The future lord of the Devildom is moping around in bed at eleven in the morning on a Tuesday? Lucifer shakes his head. At this rate, he's never going to get better.

The demon knocks once at Diavolo's door, more to signify his presence than to actually ask for entry. He'd stopped doing that by the third day of MC's leave, when Diavolo had fallen too deep into despair to even respond to the ebony-haired demon's calls.

"Diavolo?" He murmurs, opening the door. He tries to keep the frustration out of his voice.

But the sight that greets him is strange, to say the least.

Pillows are thrown across the room, lamps shattered against the wall, the bedpost broken clean of the bed, the entire room privy to Diavolo's raw frustration at the situation before him. But all of that is akin to what the demon lord's room has been like on previous days.

This morning, though, in the center of it all stands a woman.

Lucifer stares at her for a moment, utterly confused as to who she is. He vaguely recognizes her, but from where?

"His wife," Barbatos clarifies from behind him. "Or future wife. She's been staying nearby ever since the proposal, and she stopped by to visit my lord last night. Upon learning of his...condition, she deduced that coming up here and consummating the marriage early might ease the prince of his current state."

"Well, it obviously didn't work." Lucifer crosses his arms in agitation, referring to the fact that she's fully clothed and clearly hasn't been touched since entering Diavolo's room. He gestures to the door in a motion for the she-demon to leave.

As she quietly walks out, though, Lucifer can't help but be relieved.

Lucifer knows how loyal his friend is, but the sight of a woman in his room still concerned him, upon first glance. If Diavolo had given her an heir, his whole situation with MC would truly be unsalvageable, the girl too human to think of his acts as anything other than infidelity.

The moment the door shuts, the tension in the room dissipates.

"Diavolo," Lucifer mumbles as he makes his way through the room, crossing his arms when he sees the unmoving stare of what had once been his proud friend.

"What." The sound comes out hoarse, more a word blurted than a real response, and Lucifer bends down to the eye level of his friend, who has still yet to even get out of bed.

Diavolo looks pitiful. Truly. Worse than each of the days before, but carrying the weight of them all the same. The demon's red locks seem darker, not as vibrant nor as soft as they normally look, instead having taken on the same cold, dead look as Diavolo's eyes.

And as Lucifer stares into the empty eyes of the man who was now deprived of his lover, words fail him.

He doesn't know what to say, where to begin, how to comfort this miserable demon.

The only person in all the realms who can do that is you, and the only way you would be returning is if Diavolo literally sacrifices millennia of Devildom tradition to wed you and make you his paramour in one—you, a woman who can't even yield him a biological heir.

Lucifer sighs, running a hand through his friend's hair.

"Go back to sleep," He advises, forgetting the reason why he had come here in the first place.

Slumber is the only peace he can see for his beloved friend.

***

Luke would be furious.

And tiny as the little angel is, you really don't want to ruin the remaining three days of your stay in the Devildom by yapping on about you being a bad influence on Simeon, which is why the two of you have to be overly secretive about sneaking out of Purgatory Hall.

"I think I'll retire early tonight," You say, standing up in the common room, reciting the line according to the plan you and Simeon had gone over in the evening. Perhaps you two were overthinking things, though, because neither Solomon nor Luke really reacts—both boys busying themselves with the completion of their own student exchange reports.

You cast the dark-skinned angel a glance as you walk out and make your way to your bedroom. A small part of you feels nervous. You've barely learned about the Celestial Realm, except for in your Angel Studies class. What if I embarrass myself in front of Michael? You wonder, beginning to pace. What if I embarrass Simeon?

"Little lamb?" Simeon calls, opening your door. He flashes you a warm smile when he sees you. "Wonderful, you're here. Are you ready to go?"

You give him a hesitant nod, and it takes less than a minute for him to open the window and the two of you to climb out.

"I love standing on the roof like this," Simeon informs you with a smile. He opens his arms up and spreads them, as if hugging the sky itself. "When I do this, I can feel every little breeze dancing through the night. Try it, little lamb, and close your eyes."

Wordlessly, you obey and shut your eyes, bringing your arms out. At first, it doesn't feel like much. In fact, all you can register is the light burn in your arms as you hold them for longer than you're used to—but then, you feel it.

It's quiet.

Subtle.

But it's there.

Your lips part as your bare arms begin to feel the breeze. The air moves gently, quietly, almost not at all. But the movement is there, and it fills your body up until it feels like you're flying higher and higher.

You let out a light laugh, about to open your eyes when Simeon's voice carries into your ears.

"Shh, little lamb," He murmurs. "Don't open your eyes."

And you're not sure if it's in that precise moment or a little later when you can feel the weightlessness of your own body, but you eventually realize that you're flying, soaring up, up, and up.

It's so much different from what you've experienced with demons.

No, in Diavolo's arms, flying was about the thrill of the ride: the wind fighting against your face as you cut through air where you didn't belong, every fiber of your being laughing and crying with joy as Diavolo flew you round and round.

But with Simeon, it's different.

It shouldn't even count as flying.

It's like gravity is pushing you away, urging you further and further into the sky like a balloon, except that you're not going to pop, and you're you.

And eventually, after the sensation becomes too much for you to bear in the darkness, you open your eyes.

You gasp.

"Tsk tsk." Simeon frowns, but his eyes are smiling. "What did I say about keeping your eyes closed?"

You don't bother humoring his question with a response, eyes glued to the sight beneath you. It's like another sky altogether, every single light in the Devildom a star on a black ground darker than night itself, truly a sight to behold. And when you finally pull your gaze high enough to look at Simeon, you realize that he is the real sight to behold.

"Y-your wings!" You exclaim, jaw slackened in pure awe of how divine the man looks. In his true form, Simeon looks even more stunning, his body radiating a soft glow as his snowy white wings spread out—two massive fliers majestic as they are untainted.

"Why would you ever ask me to close my eyes?" You ask, not understanding why the angel wouldn't want you to see such beautiful sights. Both the angel in front and the ground beneath you are more beautiful than anything you've laid your eyes upon in your entire life.

"I wanted you to see the Devildom lit up like this on the way down," Simeon chuckles. "Though I suppose it's only fair that you get to see it now."

You smile at the boy, before the new realization hits you—that you're flying on your own. Initially, you'd assumed that Simeon was the one pulling you up, lifting you into the sky by some invisible thread of divinity. But he's nearly three feet away from you as he continues to rise up, barely flapping his wings, so... "How am I flying?"

"The Blessing of an Angel," Simeon says with a grin. "You can collect blessings, little lamb. Each angel's blessing will manifest in a different form. My blessing is to bring people closer to their nature as an angel, and quite literally enables you to travel to the Celestial Realm. With wings."

With a single flap of his wings, Simeon brings his body behind yours, and you feel a hand begin to trace the outline of your back. Or at least, what feels like your back. You shudder as Simeon's fingers graze over a tender softness behind your body but on it all the same, and you just know that they're your wings. A single glance backward is enough to confirm it, the delicate whites nowhere near as majestic as Simeon's own figure but still stunning in their own right.

"Thank you," You murmur, following Simeon's lead as he instructs you on the ways of flight, teaching you how to use the new body parts. And then, before you know it, the two of you aren't just levitating upward but are truly flying, soaring through the skies straight into the heart of the Celestial Realm: an angel and a human, united in your journey above.

Not an hour later, you would repeat your gratitude to the archangel Michael as he offers you holy water to drink and rests his hand on your forehead, solemnly hearing out your request for his divine blessing.

And as you later crawl into bed, it strikes you just how much Simeon has managed to change in the short span of a few hours: you'd crawled out of your window as a mere heartbroken human. But returning, you carry Simeon's Blessing and Michael's Blessing: the blessing of holy flight and the blessing of eternal happiness.

And though nothing has truly happened with Diavolo to warrant such confident presumptions, you can't help but notice a quiet truth, before you finally give in to the temptations of Hypnos.

Indeed, your heart feels lighter.

***

Lucifer had saved you for last.

Simeon and Luke hadn't really needed much 'escorting,' given that all they had to do was spread their wings and fly to return to the Celestial Realm.

They'd been the first to depart.

Solomon had been the next one to go, bidding Asmodeus farewell in a suspicious promise to 'see each other soon' that concerned Lucifer, but he'd let it slide in lieu of getting rid of the shady sorcerer.

But that leaves you: the final exchange student.

And the time has finally come for you to go home.

He looks down at you, your face hesitant as your eyes widen in—what is the look on your face? Sadness? Fear? Anger? A mix of all things above?

"MC," He begins, the words feeling stiff as they come off his tongue. "I know that toward the end, things took a turn for the worse...but I truly did value your friendship in this year."

"And I, Lucifer." The demon relaxes when he sees you open your arms with a sheepish grin, eyes almost as shy and hesitant as the day he'd first met you. Lucifer doesn't waste a second in embracing you, pouring out of his arms all the feelings his pride would not permit him to vocalize.

I'm sorry, he tries to tell you. I'm sorry that things ended this way between you and Diavolo, especially when I know how happy you two were together. I'm sorry that I've had to take his side in this, and I'm sorry you were ever hurt.

And by the way you hug him back, squeezing his abdomen, it feels like you're telling him: I know.

"Is Diavolo not coming?" He hears you ask, tone wistful as you unbury your head from his chest.

Lucifer shakes his head softly, remembering how his friend had been even more unresponsive than usual this morning when asked if he would come to see you off.

"Mammon says he'll come visit," Lucifer remarks gently, trying to distract you. "Asmodeus and Beel, too. All of us will make time to visit you, in the end. You've been wonderful to have...we all feel that way."

Lucifer stresses that one word, trying to emphasize that he was speaking for the collective. For Diavolo. Even if the demon lord wouldn't be here to bid you farewell, Lucifer wants you to know that you've been precious to each and every one of them.

"Thank you, Luci." He hears you giggle, and for once, he doesn't even chastise you for using the nickname. "But it's time for me to go, isn't it?"

The demon sighs.

"It is."

"I'll miss you. All of you," You say, also emphasizing the word. The sentence means more than it seems. It's a quiet plea for Lucifer to tell Diavolo that, at the very least, your heart hasn't moved on.

"I'll be sure to let everyone know," The demon says, giving you just as cryptic a smile before wrapping you in a hug. He makes sure your eyes are closed as he turns into his demon form, summoning his powers to send you back.

At the back of his mind, he suspects that it won't be the last time he sees you. But no matter what instincts lie pooled in his gut, he can't shake the devastating sense of emptiness once you've vanished from his arms and vanished from the Devildom, returned to the human world.

It's where you belong, he tries to reason with himself. A human, among humans.

But deep inside, he knows the truth. And as much as he tries to deny it, his subconscious knows.

You belong with Diavolo.

***

The mark of the paramour is gone.

You remember, as Michael the Archangel had given you his blessing, that there'd been a searing pain in your stomach. Excruciating. Truly unlike anything you'd ever experienced before, though it was short enough.

Somehow, you've managed to pass weeks by without registering the lack of two black characters tainting your (s/c) abdomen, but as you stare at yourself in the mirror, you notice its absence.

Is this the 'eternal happiness' that Michael gave me? You scowl. In truth, you've yet to feel the effects of any revolutionary happiness. If anything, things have been worse than usual, these past few weeks.

"Damn it," You mutter, turning the lamp off. You don't want to see yourself in the mirror for a second longer.

You'd forced yourself out of bed to see the mark—to see the reminder that you once belonged to Diavolo, and he to you. You wanted to remember your time in the Devildom. You wanted proof that it was all real.

It doesn't matter that the characters on your stomach had proclaimed you a false lover, whatever that means. It was a connection to Diavolo. A contract, he had called it.

But even that little salvation has been stripped from you.

You choke back a sob, staring at your shriveled form. How long has it been since you left the Devildom?

Three weeks, says the calendar.

But without Simeon to cheer you up or the demon brothers to keep your mind occupied, it's felt like eons. Even your human friends have stopped visiting you, utterly unaware of the truth.

When you were surrounded by light and love and happiness, it was easy to tell yourself than you were healing from everything with Diavolo. But, looking back, you realize that you'd never been healing at all. No, even on the night you flew up to heaven with Simeon, you'd clung to the hope in your heart that Michael's Blessing of eternal happiness would somehow thrust you back into the arms of Diavolo.

But now I have no one to distract me, you think, staring at your hollowed cheeks. You haven't been eating as much, and it's showing. And I can't keep lying to myself that I'll ever end up with Diavolo.

You stare at your reflection, body seeming even more ghostly in the pale illumination of the moonlight as it streams in through your window.

You look dead.

And maybe, in some way, you are.

Can you ever love another as you loved Diavolo? It's impossible, you think, memories of your time with him beginning to stream through your mind.

Diavolo is a man unlike any other. Truly one of a kind, you think, remembering the very first time you'd expressed feelings for each other.

It was a Saturday when you first kissed him.

In fact, it had been Saturday the second time you kissed him as well, and probably the third and the fourth and the fifth times, until weeks later when two of you finally went public about your relationship.

But, in the beginning, Diavolo only saw you on Saturdays.

The man was committed to his plan of uniting the three realms, and he made every effort to make his precious exchange students feel welcome in the RAD. As far as you knew, he scheduled Solomon on Mondays, Simeon on Tuesdays, and Luke on Thursdays with the exceptional Friday—but you were the only one he saw over the weekend.

"Thank you for the tea, my lord." You smiled pleasantly at the man in front of you, wondering how someone so refined and gentle could possibly be a demon.

"Ah, how often must I say it? Drop the formalities, MC. Call me Diavolo!" He exclaimed with his usual ear-to-ear grin. It was a smile that always sent butterflies to your stomach, and you never failed to appreciate the little crinkle in his eye as he smiled at you from across the table.

"Of course, D-Diavolo." The name felt familiar on your tongue—you'd referred to him as such countless times in the presence of the demon brothers—but calling the future demon lord of the Devildom by his first name felt strangely personal as the two of you sat in his private garden, surrounded by flowers and sunshine, not even Barbatos present to intrude on your weekly meetings.

Well, they were called meetings. Diavolo treated them more as an opportunity for two old friends to catch up.

"So, how is school work going?" He asked, feigning interest in your performance at the academy. You knew it was just a ruse, though. Soon enough he would begin humoring his actual interests, asking questions about how you were liking your time in the House of Lamentation, what the family dynamic was like and, of course, there was always the one question he never failed to ask: whether any of you had managed to get a picture of Lucifer's sleeping face yet (and if so, to please forward the image to him).

The two of you eventually got caught up in the questions game, and soon enough, you had taken up his invitation to ask him things as well. It almost felt like the two of you were playing 20 Questions, and you told Diavolo as much.

"20 Questions? A human game? You must tell me how to play, MC." Diavolo's grin was expectant, and you quickly filled him in on the rules. Of course, as soon as he learned them, he decided that he wanted to play with you.

"You have to be truthful in this game?" Diavolo confirmed, raising an eyebrow in suspicion. "And you cannot refuse a question, no matter what?"

"Nope!" You exclaimed cheerily in response. By then, the anxiety you felt at being in front of not only the strongest man in the Devildom but clearly the hottest one had faded, and you were almost teasing in your responses. "Of course, you can always back out if you're afraid of playing, Diavolo."

You batted your eyes innocently at the demon lord, trying to corner him into playing. Your plan worked like a charm.

"As if!" Diavolo exclaimed dramatically, leaning back on his chair and crossing his arms. He smiled confidently as he began the game. "I'll start. MC, how many objects did you help Mammon steal from my castle at the last feast?"

You felt your cheeks flush, not realizing that Diavolo had known about your assistance in Mammon's most recent attempts at thievery. The almost arrogant smirk on the man's face brought a response out of your mouth swiftly as you tried to put him back into his place.

"Three, but Lucifer made him put everything back. My turn: how did you know I helped Mammon steal from your castle?"

"Why, it was the first time he'd been successful in stealing anything from here. And there was only one thing that had changed," Diavolo winked. "You. And now, I'll go. What does the student body think of me, and the student council?"

The questions continued on like that, flirtatious undertones appearing every now and then, until the afternoon sun had gracefully rolled over Diavolo's castle into a sunset in the far west.

At the back of your mind, and probably his, too, you knew that you had long passed the concluding mark of twenty in this questions game, but you were too eager to value this rare, extra time with Diavolo to mention such a thing.

And it was then, right when the sun had dipped low enough to kiss the horizon and seemingly light up the ground and every petal in the garden, that Diavolo asked the question that would completely change the remainder of your stay in the Devildom.

"MC, if I asked you to kiss me, would you do it?"

For the first time in perhaps hours, you were silent. Your brain went blank at the prospect of laying your lips on the man you'd fantasized about, and you felt almost dumb as you stared at Diavolo.

After your flustered silence stretched into an awkward one, Diavolo apologized.

"I'm sorry, MC." He stood up, not meeting your eyes. "That was inappropriate of me. Very well, I'll see you next week for our—"

"Wait!" The prospect of losing your chance to kiss this stunning man spurred you into action. "I...I would! Kiss you, I mean. I would kiss you, if you asked."

Your cheeks were aflame, hotter than the setting sun itself as it outlined your body in a perfect silhouette that emphasized all your curves. You felt awkward as you stood in front of Diavolo, barely noticing the smirk spread across his face as he retook his seat, eyes fixated straight on you as you stood in front of him.

"I believe it's your turn to ask a question, then."

"Would..." You swallowed. "Would you do the same for me?"

The words felt stupid as they left your mouth. Stupid and childish and ridiculous. You should have said something better. Something flirtatious. Maybe something sexy? You cursed, hating how flustered the demon was making you feel, but his eventual answer reassured you.

"Yes," He hummed. "I absolutely would kiss you if you asked me to."

Your eyes widened at the answer, and you met his eyes for the first time since he asked you his embarrassing question.

"Do you like me?"

The sentence came out surprisingly clear, words of genuine curiosity and surprise as you asked your question. Diavolo, of course, was still a tease.

"Not your turn, darling," He said, using the playful nickname that would eventually become his most favorite term of endearment for you. "But I suppose I'd like to ask that. Do you like me, MC?"

Oh. Great.

If your cheeks were on fire before, now they were the molten lava-ridden depths of hell itself, burning hotter than anything you'd ever felt before. Diavolo smiled smugly as he placed a single finger under your chin, forcing you to look at him. Only then did you realize just how much larger he was than you—truly a demon, taller than any human had a right to be and more muscular all the same.

His figure enveloped yours as he pulled you closer to him, bringing your face just inches away from his own.

"Because I like you, MC."

And with those words, the last of your restraint vanished, and you leaned forward to capture his lips with your own.

The man responded in full, using his strong arms to ease you into his lap, settling his hands on your waist as he pressed your body into his while the two of you made out. It was a hot collide of tongue and lip and passion as the two of you released all the tension that had built up through the intermittent teasing remarks of your questions game. By the time you were both moderately settled down, the sun had set, revealing the stars above you two.

"A-ah," Diavolo stuttered, suddenly leaning back. "I'm sorry, MC. I don't know what came over me."

You didn't leave your position on his lap, though. Whatever hesitance that had been previously holding you back vanished once you knew Diavolo felt the same way about you.

"Don't be," You laughed, laying a kiss against his oh-so-defined jaw.

"You're bold," He chuckled, bringing up a hand to play with your hair.

"And you're bolder," You swiftly responded, still not having forgotten that Diavolo was the one who had initiated this all in the first place. You stopped at the corner of the demon's jaw, nibbling at the skin.

"A human and a demon have no place together," Diavolo murmured, chuckling as you ignored his words. "Much less, a human and the ruler of the Devildom."

But the moment he had finished his sentence, you'd silenced him with a trail of kisses that ended on his lips, whatever weak protest he had dying then and there as the two of you continued to indulge in each other.

Looking back, you should have taken his words as a sign.

A warning.

You stare at yourself, wondering numbly what Diavolo would think if he could see you now.

I need to move on, you tell yourself. Come on.

For the first time since your return, you force your hands to tend to yourself. Your needs. You take a shower, brush your teeth, force a meal into your queasy stomach, and even dress yourself up in one of your favorite outfits.

Yep, you approach this situation Asmodeus-style: by forcing love onto yourself.

And honestly, by the time you're all dolled up, you feel a little bit better. The ache in your heart hasn't faded, but at least you're no longer worn down by oily hair or ugly sweatpants that are two sizes too big for you.

You decide to go for a walk. Get some fresh air. Get ready to return to your life as a normal human, with the moon as your witness.

And when you step out into the night, you really do feel the stinging bite of the cold as it coils around you in the wind, completely different from the last time you were out bare in the night with Simeon.

But you force yourself to take one step forward, and then another, until you're walking. You need this. As you stroll down the streets, gazing mindlessly at the flickering street lamps above you, you remember a little nursery rhyme your mother had taught you: A clear mind and a clear heart, you'll soon be able to make a fresh start.

Will this walk give you the clear mind you seek? A small smile flits onto your face at the thought, and you close your eyes in a quiet attempt to meditate some of the fears in your mind away.

And only then, when you're trying to forget all the events of the Devildom and get back in touch with your human roots, do you remember another thing your mother had taught you: Never walk the streets alone at night.

"Hey there, cutie. Whatcha doin' out so late at night?"

You stiffen, realizing that you've grown far too used to being under the demon brothers' protection at the Devildom. Back there, someone had always been watching over you, from close or from afar.

But you're on your own here.

And it seems that you'd forgotten that.

"I'm going home," You respond stiffly, not even turning around as you continue walking forward. You increase your pace.

"You don't wanna stay and chat with me?" The voice asks, creepy as it is intimidating.

"Leave me alone."

Perhaps you should have gone with a more polite way to decline the presence of whatever man is behind you, because the moment the hostile words leave your mouth, you find that he's moved faster than you can process, practically shoving your face into a wall as he grips your two hands behind your back.

"You're feisty, aren'tcha?" The voice laughs, and you feel a hardness press against your back. No! You want to shout, knowing all-too-well what this man is about to do. You can smell the liquor on his breath, disgusting and heavy. You begin squirming and resisting even more, opening your mouth to scream only to be met with the feeling of metal on your stomach. "Scream an' I'll cut your li'l belly open."

Diavolo! You shout in your head, wanting him, needing him to come to your protection. You feel tears begin to run down your cheek as the man grips your thighs, hands slowly sliding closer and closer to where you'd only permitted Diavolo to go, when his weight is ripped off your body altogether.

You hear the sound of screaming, punching, kicking, and you can't bring yourself to turn around. "D-Dia—"

"Shh," Your savior cooes, at your side in an instant. And you know it's awful, but when you recognize the sound of Lucifer's voice instead of your lover's, that only makes you cry harder as you sob into the demon's chest, choking out "thank you for saving me" over and over again.

Lucifer consoles you awkwardly, petting your hair until your tears have ceased.

"MC, I need you to come with me."

You nod your head, standing up and expecting Lucifer to lead you back to your apartment. But just as when he sent you off to the human realm, he simply wraps his arms around you, and you feel the familiar wave of magic wash over your senses as you cross back into what can only be the Devildom.

"W-why did you bring me back?" You ask, when you realize where you are. You stand up, wanting to run out of the room, out of these bedchambers where you've spent so many nights and mornings with your lover.

Suddenly, all memories of what had just happened with the man in the alley dissipate, and the little progress you've made in trying to move on from Diavolo completely fades.

"Fix him," Lucifer says, voice flat. He nudges you forward, and you don't need to turn around to know that he's already used his magic to leave the room.

Carefully, you approach the pile of blankets that you're so used to being buried under, only to find your half of the bed empty.

And the other half filled.

Your eyes widen as your gaze takes in the sight of Diavolo.

He's sleeping, thank goodness. You can't imagine that he would ever want you to see him in such an utterly disheveled state: his hair is unkempt, knotted and tangled when you bring a shaky hand to run through the neglected locks. Dark circles have appeared under his eyes, and it's easy to understand why—even Diavolo's current state of sleep looks restless and miserable. A thin sheen of sweat lies over his forehead and his chest, making you wonder whether the man has been even remotely aware of his health, and perhaps worst of all, the expression on his face as he sleeps is utterly distressed.

Remembering how you'd looked when you stood in front of your mirror not one hour ago in the human realm, you feel tears pool in the corners of your eyes.

He looks just as awful as you did.

Your heart breaks, shattering when you realize that these past few weeks have taken their toll on him as much as they have on you. It takes all your strength to choke back a sob as you stare at what was once a proud and happy prince, now reduced to what can only be considered the very personification of misery.

You stare at Diavolo, Lucifer's words flashing through your mind.

Fix him, he had said.

But is such a thing even possible anymore? Your eyes glance over your lover—or should you call him ex-lover?—and out of respect to the memory of the man you loved, you look away.

The Diavolo on this bed is nothing of the demon you remember. He's in pain, in misery.

He's shattered to the core, more broken than even you.

MASTERLIST

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | ✔

Word count: 6.9k

Notes: Uh so there's definitely going to be a part 3 to this xD this part ended up being longer than planned sooo yeah >.> honestly, this whole part 2 was mostly setting up for the big conclusion in part 3 which is why there wasnt as much 1-on-1 action between MC and Diavolo (i really tried with that flashback T^T) but fear not :D All our thirst for daddy dia will be quenched in part 3!

Comment & Like

Next Update: 5/03/20

I do not own the rights to Obey Me! or any of the characters within it.

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starlight-drive-in · 5 years ago

Text

Love Gone By

I told myself I wouldn’t write a reset theory fic, but it is @mmangstweek soooo here we go! For Day 4:Reset / 4th Wall Break

MC doesn't exactly recall all the details of the resets but she gets glimpses into her “past lives” with each RFA member when something triggers a memory, like a smell, or a sound or a certain expression or phrase, etc. The others don't recall them (I couldn’t do that to them XD) she bears the weight on her own while trying her best to enjoy the current “timeline” which in the case she's with Saeran (since he’s currently the last route, but also cuz I’m Saeran trash) and hoping that she won't have to leave him the way she’s apparently had to leave the rest of them.

----

It was hard for her to spend time with the RFA, even with how much she loved them all. It seemed like every time she spent time with them she would “recall” memories of being with each of them. Memories that felt lifetimes away and yet also felt just like home. She remembered what each of them had been at their best, would see flickers of the ideal version each of them had the potential to become. Each time was so hard on her, but how could she ever tell any of them? She couldn’t do that to them, She couldn’t do that to Saeran.

One time she’d been talking with Yoosung about LOLOL. He had mimicked a character with an eyepatch, closing his left eye and quoting a character line when suddenly her face dropped from its jovial expression into one of stark white seriousness.

Suddenly, she remembered how hard he had fought for her, how he had tried and ultimately succeeded in keeping her safe. Her eyes darted across the room for a second, landing on someone else. Was it him who had hurt Yoosung? Was it him who Yoosung had gone through all the trouble to protect her from? The sudden realization of irony nearly knocked the wind out of her.

Her eyes focused again on Yoosung, still going off about new buffs and nerfs in the latest patch. He’s such a passionate person, and she knows he’d go to any length for the right person. She knows because in one universe that person had been her. She remembers evenings in his apartment, filled with impassioned ramblings about different animal’s anatomies, and how fascinated he was with his studies. She remembers walking through the park, hand in hand, smiling.

She remembers waking up, a head of messy blonde hair on one side and a soft grey and white cat on the other. She remembers how hard she cheered for him as we walked across the stage to receive his diploma. She remembers toasting him in congratulations at the party the RFA had thrown for him. She remembers displays of passion in the office of his private practice. She remembers the man he had become with a little love and has to excuse herself to take a walk outside to hide her tears.

And then it was Zen. They were at the debut party for his latest musical. Zen was on cloud nine after a flawless first night. Not even the sight of Jumin entering the room could dull his spirit. As soon as his eyes landed on MC he was bounding over to her, full of energy.

“Jagiya!” He had called excitedly. God, she really wished he’d stop calling her that because every time he did the memories would flood in. Every time he said it was like an arrow had shot her straight through the heart. She almost wished Saeran would pull the jealous card, tell him that she wasn’t Zen’s ‘Jagiya’. But he never did. She wasn't sure if Saeran just didn't mind, or if he just didn't want to cause an issue. Either way, she could never bring herself to ask Zen to stop herself, selfish as ever.

He pulled her into a tight hug and before she could remind herself to hold her breath she was inhaling the scent of tobacco mixed with his cologne that smells like fresh linen. That, combined with the low murmur of the party guests had her right back in the moment of his press conference. When he had unashamedly told the world about her without a doubt of fear for his career in his mind.

She remembers how angry he had been at who she now knows as Saeyoung for not telling him where Rika’s apartment was, she remembers biting the hand that she was holding just a moment ago. She remembers gripping Zen’s waist tightly and speeding down city streets, getting far, far away from the man that now shares her bed. She remembers heated moments in make-up trailers and a completely different bed. She remembers scarlet eyes, just centimeters from her own. With the power to hold for hours, simultaneously terrifying and beautiful. She remembers taunting the ‘beast’ just for the thrill of what would come.

When they separated, her eyes were moist.

“Jagiya, what's wrong?” Zen soothed, immediately concerned.

“Nothing Zenny,” She choked out “I’m just… so proud of you. You did so well tonight.”

Zen chuckled nervously. “Ah. haha Wel, thank you. I didn't mean to move a woman to tears, but what can I say? I guess I'm just that good.”

She giggled, stepped back, and wiped her eyes as gracefully as possible. “Yes, yes, you are.”

Another time she was visiting Jaehee, going over plans for upcoming RFA events. Jaehee had left her momentary. MC figured she just went to go use the bathroom, but when she returned a lovely scent followed her. Jaehee placed down two cups of coffee. Just by the color, MC could tell Jaehee had gotten it just perfect.

“Delicious,” MC commented taking a sip, hoping to wash down the sudden lump in her throat.

“I don’t mean to brag, but I believe I can make quite the cup of coffee,” Jaehee said brightly.

Suddenly a memory of Jaehee swiping a bit of stray frosting from the tip of MC’s nose comes to mind. The Jaehee in her mind giggles magnificently as her long brown locks bounce around her bright, well-rested face. She remembers the way that face had greeted her that morning with a gentle kiss full of love, and a self-realized happiness this timeline’s Jaehee didn’t know.

Suddenly it was MC who needed to take a trip to the bathroom because she couldn’t let Jaehee see her cry. Jaehee had much to worry about, she didn't need to worry about MC too.

For some reason, whenever MC looks at Jumin she feels sad. He’s always well put together, he always keeps everyone together but who keeps Jumin together? Especially now that no one had heard from V since her and Saeran left Mint Eye.

It had happened during an RFA meeting. They had become accustomed to hosting the RFA meetings in the conference room off of Jumin’s office. Jaehee and Jumin were always there, and Saeran was often being contracted to help at C&R as of late, so the location made sense. The subject of this meeting wasn’t a party though. The subject of this meeting was Rika and V.

The RFA was turning over a new leaf, but before they could do that there were a lot of things that had to be explained. Saeran tried his best to piece together his timeline with the rest of the RFA, explaining how he came to be under V and Rika’s care and then eventually just Rika’s care, before transitioning into his memories of the beginning of Mint Eye. Under the table MC squeezed Saeran's hand gently in encouragement, knowing how hard it was for him to talk about this, even if he was getting more used to it.

She glanced over to her other side, where Jumin was seated at the head of the table, the new head of the RFA in V’s absence. Where she was met with a very distraught Jumin, his expression was pained, eye’s closed as his head rested on his left hand, his right hand balled in frustration on the table’s surface.

Gently with her free hand, she had reached out, touching Jumin’s shoulder in concern. He had opened his eyes abruptly in surprise and stared wide eye-ed at her gesture, before fixing his posture into something rigid and more typical of Jumin Han.

A moment later he retreated to his office where MC could see him remove a bottle of brown liquor from his bottom desk drawer and poured himself a glass before sitting defeatedly in his desk chair. She let go of Saeran’s hand and patted him on the shoulder, to let him know she’d be back and that he should continue.

“Jumin?” She had said softly in the threshold of his doorway. “Can I come in?”

He didn’t answer but nodded his head in permission. MC had stood next to him, and leaned her weight against his desk casually. “This is probably a stupid question but, how are you doing?” she asked.

“Nothing I know makes sense anymore, It is as if my head is in knots,” Jumin replied, taking a healthy drag from his glass.

That sounded so familiar. She had heard those words before. Her eyes focused past him to the view of the city from outside his office window, and although she can’t recall ever going to his home, she knows it’s almost the same as the view from his penthouse.

And then she remembers. Days spent in his penthouse, him begging her not to leave, her not wanting to give up on him. She remembers the fear in his eyes, the fear of losing her. She remembers V talking some sense into him, she remembers him on one knee. She remembers V behind a camera wearing a smile as he photographs their wedding. She remembers a honeymoon made for a queen and an agonizingly slow consummation that was so, so worth it in the end. She remembers a small head of black hair and a smile on Jumin’s face that most people wouldn’t even think was possible just before he kisses the crown of his newborn baby boy in her arms.

Jumin keeps everyone together, but who keeps Jumin together? Once, it had been her. She feels a tear well up in her eye as she thinks maybe she can still be there for him, even in this universe. Even if she can’t bring him the joy she once did, a joy that he isn't even aware could exist. She brushes away the tear and steals herself.

“I know all this new information about Rika and V is hard for you to hear. Do you want to talk about it?” She asks earnestly.

His eyes widen in surprise that someone would take a moment to consider his place in this.

Saeyoung was the hardest. Partially because he didn't even have to be there for the memories to come. In fact, she had recalled him before she even met him.

She and Ray we’re sitting across the table from each other in her room when she first arrived at Mint Eye. She had said something silly, she can’t even recall what it was now. That wasn’t what was important anyway. What was important was the way Ray’s face had lit up at whatever it was she had said, the way he laughed wholeheartedly, a brilliant smile gracing his tired face, and then the sudden sense that she had seen that face before, but different? It was like the colors were wrong, but the tired look of adoration he was giving her was the same. The bend of his lips and the way his eyes quirked up on the sides was so familiar it felt like she had known him her entire life, or at least someone who looked shockingly similar. But that didn't make any sense until it did.

She could avoid the faces of the others all she wanted, but she couldn't avoid Saeyoung’s. She couldn’t avoid the sheer fact that Saeran and Saeyoung shared a face. And that sometimes when the light would hit her boyfriend’s face just right when he’d smile just the right way. She’d remember. She’d remember a vastly different version of her current lover - a version that wasn’t her lover at all, but her brother-in-law. She’d remember days in an apartment she’d never been to. She’d remember tip-toeing about the place trying her best not to disturb a certain red-head with glasses. She’d remember breaking down an emotional wall, and a comfortable embrace padded by the many layers of clothes Saeyoung always wore. She’d remember a desperate, passionate night of love-making in which they both ended up in tears, overcome with emotions and fear of what the next day would hold. Not wanting to lose each other.

She’d remember the struggle it was to get Saeran out of Mint Eye, something that seemed vastly foreign to the way he had left on his own in this universe. She remembers hard nights in a bunker that looks similar to the one he lives in now, yet not the same. Holding Saeyoung, reassuring him he was doing everything he could, that he had always done his best.

She remembers when it got better again. She remembers an endearingly-dorky, digitally voiced, proposal that was so him there was no way it was a false memory. She remembers a 3 person family, and a space-themed wedding. Then a fourth person, She remembers holding her newborn daughter in one arm and her husband's crying face in the other as he whispered “thank you” over and over again through sobs.

She remembers 3 heads of red hair, one smaller than the other two, all cuddled together on the couch, having fallen asleep while watching a movie. She remembers a happy heart and a home full of laughter.

And a tear would streak down her cheek, she’d try to hide it from Saeran. But there was never any hiding from him. He’d rush to her and hold her gently in his arms ask what was wrong. She’d blame it on something else and sob into the crook of his neck. He wouldn’t push it. He knew some things weren’t easy to discuss, he only hoped that telling her he loved her and that everything would ok would be enough for her.

And then, there was V. No, not V - Jihyun. In the end, he had done all he could for her and Saeran, had tried to right his wrongs. But at what cost? She hated the fact that he went back to Rika. Every bone in her body screamed for her to stop him from sacrificing himself, to go back and drag him out of there. But there was no convincing V, he was surprisingly stubborn despite his gentle appearance.

The moment she and Saeran had passed over the threshold of that cabin it looked so familiar. She could have sworn she’d been there before, maybe even a few times? But when she mentioned it to Saeran he’s pretty sure that’s impossible. He showed her where they were on his map app and surely enough, she’d never been to this part of the country that she could recall.

Still, everything in there looked so familiar. She already knew where everything was, knew her way around the place, but how? Her eyes settle on the couch, plain by all accounts but again, too familiar.

And then it happened, She remembered. She was sitting here on the floor next to this couch. Holding a hand that was cold and damp as anxiety and fear weighed heavily in the room. Other people were here also, but she can’t recall who. Her fingers carded through soft, silky hair that was a beautiful shade of blue-green. It was V. She remembers taking a walk with him and then leaving, she remembers regretting that decision almost instantly and red hot anger. She remembers a phone call with the man currently sitting at the table in this reality that broke her heart. She remembered decisions that were too hard to make, and then an explosion that made her question everything.

She remembers a hospital and then the image of V walking away from her. She remembers a very lonely two years and the image of Saeyoung crying. And then she remembered an RFA party, the way her heart soared at a familiar voice and then V’s face.

“Please, call me Jihyun now.” He had said to her. The Jihyun in her mind looks vastly different from the man she had met that week in the current timeline. This Jihyun was happy and healthy.

She remembers brother’s hugging and a huge relief. She remembers the face of her current lover marred, but beautiful as ever. She remembers Saeyoung crying again, but this time not in grief. She remembers a proud look on Jihyuns face as he watched the scene, a tear of happiness welled up in his eye.

She remembers a slow, sweet romance between her and Jihyun. She remembers watching him learn to love again. She remembers laughing and slinging paint at each other in his studio and a long-awaited kiss that quickly turned into a wonderful out-pouring of emotions. She didn’t even know V painted…

She remembers Sunday dinners with Jihyun, Saeran, and Saeyoung, in a modern style house with so many windows they didn't even have to turn on a light. She remembers a sense of forgiveness around that table so abundant she gasped. She remembers a small girl, full of energy as she talked about her many uncles. She didn't give birth to her she knows, but she had loved her all the same. She remembers lazy mornings in an unbelievable comfortable bed and Jihyun’s smiling face.

She gasps out loud as a sob had broken over her. Luckily Saeran was busy talking to the intelligence unit and hadn’t heard her. How could she even have begun to explain what she saw in her mind’s eye? She would learn to get used to this in time to come.

She doesn't understand how any of this is even possible, the universe can be so cruel. She loves the RFA, each and every one of them, in a way she can never explain to them. There's nothing she can do about it except support them each in this current world and hope someday another person would make each of them happy the way she had once done. She hopes that all of them can be safe and happy in the end.

She looks over at her boyfriend, knowing this is the best version of him and hopes she never has to see him any of the other ways she knows are possible ever again.

#mmangstweek #day 4 #mmangstweekday4 #day 4 reset / 4th wall break #Ive been working on this for 4 days and im still not sure how i feel about it #mystic messenger #mystic messenger fanfic #mystic messenger angst #yoosung #jaehee #zen #jumin #v #707 #saeyoung #saeran #unknown #mysme

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