#((not great but i think a reasonable reaction to have when ur concussed to hell and griving the recent deaths of men ur responsible for))

[pctaldrunk]

k i do wanna point out tho...j.gy’s the one that escalated it to Planned and Calculated M*rder. like... you can say that relationship was Unhealthy (tm) and Harmful (tm) to him, but whatever conflict existed there...he also went “ok i’ll m*rder this guy” in the most painful and drawn out way possible in the end as a solution to his problems 

[mewtwo24]

Lucifer I want to hold ur hand

So like...I wrote this eons ago before all the Belphie chapters happened, but I’m still really proud of it? It’s like shortly after Lucifer goes coco-nuts at the end of chapter...12? I think? I came into the game a little late, and then the story took off and this became more of an au given the context

Under a cut bc it is a l o n g boi, as per usual, a little shorter than 2000 words. This is purely fluff hurt/comfort, nothing too heavy or that requires warnings. The MC in this is named Joanna.

Enjoy!

“I don’t know if I’ll ever begin to understand...”

Lucifer’s voice was so quiet, she could only barely make out what he was saying. Her mind was still foggy, still struggling to think beyond the dull ache.

“I never know whether to be impressed by your audacity, or find it foolish. Are all humans like you?” There was a slight huff, something akin to a chuckle--though the prospect made her more sure she was dreaming. His voice was never that tender, and most certainly never so self-effacing. “Perhaps that was a foolish question.” 

He didn’t specify whether that was because it was a good kind of obvious, or a bad kind. And she was too afraid to ask him to clarify--too certain his voice would disappear forever. The last time they had spoken he was beyond furious with her; it was the reason she was on what seemed to be some kind of medical bed. It couldn’t have been her room. Her room didn’t smell like bleach and sterilized dust.

“I know you’re awake, Joanna.” 

Her eyes shot open to find him smiling deviously to her left, hand intercepting the forearm that had instinctively leapt to her defense. She was surprised to find that his grip was gentle; only enough to stop her from hurting either of them.

“That’s one way to say good evening,” he released her arm after checking to make sure her IV was undisturbed. “But I truly wouldn’t have you any other way. Your courage has always been captivating.” 

She assessed him carefully--she wasn’t so delirious that she didn’t realize precisely who it was that landed her in what looked to be a human hospital. The throbbing in her head was no accident, and neither was the ache in her shoulders.

“I suppose I deserve that look.” His brows furrowed, “And I owe Belphegor much for deflecting the majority of my attack. Please, rest assured that I have no intention of directing violence towards you ever again. You have my word.” She could detect no slumbering threat in his gaze, no riddle in the firm line of his mouth. He was serious as serious could be--the most sober demon she had ever met. Her eyes widened when he bowed in that reverent way he always did in the company of the higher ranking demons, onyx hair cascading over his eyes. 

“I imagine Diavolo has already expressed his disappointment.” She laughed when his lips pursed and his shoulders stiffened, a clear sign she was probably right. “I don’t see any need to make you feel worse. Though, I would like it if there could be fewer threats in our exchanges.”

When he straightened he remained ramrod tense, as if he wasn’t sure what to say next. He didn't like being indebted to people, and he liked failing even less. 

And yet, despite everything, she didn’t want him to go. He was the first person to try to ease her worries in this realm--had given her enough information to protect herself, regardless of the situation's tenuous balance. As much as their final confrontation was about his struggle to let go of his haughtiness, it was also about the feelings they had been harboring for each other. She liked him--loved him, even--well aware of all the reasons she shouldn’t.

For all his attempts at guarded distance, he had offered her a great deal of freedom and care in this foreign realm. She knew he was trying, he had simply been a otherworldly being for a very long time; she imagined she had caused quite the uproar in defying him. But somebody had to. If there was one thing she’d learned in life, nothing good came of being entirely untouchable.

“Pull up a chair--that is, if I’m not keeping you from anything.”

Surprise flitted across his face, and it was a wonderful thing to see his honest reaction for a change. Was it because he felt safe with her, or because they were alone? She half-expected him to retreat in favor of making sure Diavolo’s requests weren’t neglected in the time he spent looking after her. For all his insistence of her lowly status, she was sure he felt a great deal of guilt and responsibility for the harm he’d inflicted. 

Despite his considerable strength, he fumbled getting the chair to cross the distance to the bed. She withheld laughter behind a sympathetic smile. Was that a bit of color on his cheeks? He didn’t say anything for a while, eyes trained on the bed.

“Lucifer?” She reached out to touch his pale hand, surprised to find it cool to the touch. Had he been eating properly since the fallout? She hadn't realized what she'd done until after the fact--he had held her hand when she'd revealed she was scared what seemed like hours ago.

“You can’t love somebody and control them at the same time.” He eventually murmured, staring at the hand that was on top of his own. It was entire minutes later that his gaze rose, “I was only just beginning to understand what that meant when you first told me. And perhaps I still don’t understand--not the way humans do.”

Slowly, he raised her hand up to his lips, eyes never leaving hers. “Make a pact with me.” The warmth of his lips and the gentle cycle of his breath against her skin made heat gather in her cheeks. “I want to learn more about this human way of loving.”

“What makes you think I want to make a pact with you? I thought demons couldn’t change.”

She could see him wilt the slightest bit after a spark of indignation, his eyes averted as he lowered her hand. She couldn’t help teasing him a bit--after all the trouble he’d given her to confess his feelings, it was a small price. “For the longest time, it was what I believed. But now I see that it was short-sighted, and self-indulgent.” He sighed. “It was precisely the reason that Belphegor became so cross with me--and Satan, as well. I was so desperate to look after them, to make sure what happened to--" he shook his head. "...would never happen again. I stopped seeing things clearly.”

“And what makes you so sure fear won’t rule you again?” Her eyes were clear; not condemning, but vigilant. She was willing to give him a chance, but he needed to prove that he had learned something from all of this. 

“I’m not.”

“Not?”

“I’m not at all certain. Demons are just as fallible--if not more so--as a result of their strength, their base extremity. I cannot promise that which I cannot foresee.”

When she began to withdraw her hand, his fingers tightened around hers before she could slip away. “But I intend to minimize that concern as much as I can. I imagine under your short leash, things will cease before they ever get to that point again.”

She relaxed when she found his carnelian eyes softly aglow, adoring as they landed on her. It was one thing to hope for such an outcome--it was another thing entirely to see it come to fruition. 

"I'm stubborn."

"As am I."

"I'm a strict instructor."

This earned her a wicked smile. "I should hope so."

"...I'm also mortal, Lucifer."

"And I intend to make you deliriously happy for all the years you will grace this realm. So long as you permit it--it doesn't change a thing."

Her eyes were getting misty. "Are you sure you want somebody as nosy and forthright as me?"

Both of his hands covered hers and he leaned forward--so confident--and stopped a hairsbreadth from her lips. 

"Do you want this, Joanna, as I do? All the good and bad that are to come with it?"

She hadn't been imagining things at all, passion burning in eyes that smoldered to a darker crimson. "More than anything," she breathed. 

His lips found hers shortly after that, gossamer but enough to leave his taste tingling on the surface when he retreated. She had a hard time trying to describe it; she wasn't sure if it was the lingering concussion or the otherworldliness. He reminded her of sunlight in winter, a warmth that tingles and heats you to the very core, her toes curling. He also reminded her of the bonfires--evergreen fueled--that emitted a smoky, spicy aroma into the air. Even the hint of sweetness from roasting marshmallows was there. 

"I am Lucifer, Avatar of Pride. I pledge myself to you, Joanna, that we may be bound by an unbreakable pact." 

She felt the rush that always accompanied bonding to powerful demons, her entire body going rigid with the influx of magic. One of his hands rose to stroke her cheek, and she felt the flicker of their new connection echo from the depths of her bones. 

“That was--”

“Disgusting, Lucifer, what the hell! Haven’t I told the lot of you before she’s my girl? Paws off!”

They both turned to see that Mammon had barged into the room without knocking or alerting anyone, as per usual. Asmodeus and Satan were following close behind with a tired look, though there were signs of delighted amusement in their gazes.

“It’s about time.”

“I’ll say--all that unresolved sexual tension was stressing me out!”

“I’m hungry, isn’t there a single place in the human realm that sells Devildom food, Joanna?”

“Can we hurry this up? I’ve got merch to pick up--they’re going to close soon!”

“Must the lot of you create an uproar everywhere we go--this is a human hospital, keep your voices down!” Lucifer snapped, scowling.

“Joaaaaaaannaaaaaaaa, how could you leave us alone with this grouch for three whole days--ow! What, did you want to put me in a hospital too!?” 

She grimaced at the familiar crack with which a pair of gloved hands struck Mammon’s head. Through their pact she could feel the flickering simmer of remorse in the depths of Lucifer’s heart, and she relaxed back into the bed. He felt a lot more than he let on. 

“Did the doctors tell you anything about my condition?”

“They were baffled in regards to your condition. We told them you, ah, fell down a staircase. They figured it was likely the product of head trauma, but they’ve been watching pretty closely…”

“I see,” she nodded towards Satan.

Lucifer rose from her bedside, not looking any of them directly in the eye. “I’ll see to it that they release you as soon as possible. I trust three days is an adequate recovery period.”

He strode out of the room, silence deafening. She counted to three in her head, wait for it…

“I can’t believe that weenie! We set everything up perfectly and this is how he confesses!”

“Joanna he was beside himself for days, are you part witch?”

“And he says I’m obsessed with Ruri-chan...”

Satan was the one to take a seat at the end of the bed as they chortled and jeered, shaking his head. “I know it may not seem like it, but we really were worried. We’re glad you came back to us.”

“Thanks Satan,” she smiled back easily, “Glad to be back.”