Warning: Angst, manipulation.

Barbatos had constantly been by Diavolo’s side for the past three weeks. Despite being married, he hadn’t spent a single night with you. You watched him from afar, missing his presence, yet a strange sense of calm kept you from feeling truly upset. Why were you not sad that your husband wasn’t spending time with you? Though you couldn’t answer that question, a series of unsettling déjà vu moments had been haunting you.

Standing near the throne room window, you observed Barbatos and Diavolo’s meeting. Your husband’s expression was unreadable – a mask of perfect composure as he listened attentively. But something about his demeanor struck you as off. The light that usually danced in his eyes when he looked at you was absent, replaced by a cold, distant gaze that sent chills down your spine. You couldn’t shake the feeling that the man you saw before you was different from the one you knew intimately.

Who was the real Barbatos? Was it the devoted husband who showered you with affection or the inscrutable butler standing in the throne room? The more you pondered this, the more uncomfortable you became. Moreover, Barbatos had the ability to alter timelines and outcomes. The déjà vu moments – were they a result of him changing past events to create a more favorable reality? Had he altered your shared moments, erasing any friction or discontent to maintain a perfect image of your relationship? Had your husband used those powers against you?

You wanted to trust him, to believe in the sincerity of his love and the authenticity of your marriage. But the longer you thought about it, the harder it became to fight the doubts. The thought that he might have been manipulating your reality filled you with a sense of betrayal and heartbreak. What had he altered? What had happened in the past? You knew you needed to confront him to clear the shadows that clouded your thoughts, but would he allow you to find out the truth? All he had to do was use his powers to find a new reality and make you forget everything except your love for him.

Warning: Angst, degrading, depression.

Being a human in the Devildom was never easy, especially as the future spouse of Prince Diavolo. The demons of Devildom scrutinized you relentlessly, picking apart your appearance, your humanity, and your weak strength. They mocked your way of dressing, which they deemed unfit for royalty. Every aspect of your body was criticized, and your manner of speaking and laughing was a constant source of ridicule. Even the smallest mistake was subjected to their harsh judgment.

One evening, feeling utterly defeated, you decided to confide in Diavolo. He was your rock, and you hoped he would understand the toll this relentless criticism was taking on you. However, when you told him about the demons’ harsh words, he simply brushed it off. “Do not pay attention to them,” he said with a dismissive wave. “Their opinions do not matter.”

His response stung, but you tried to push through. As the day passed, Diavolo became busier, consumed by his princely duties. Whenever you wanted a moment to talk, he would hand you one of his tasks and ask for your assistance. It felt as though your relationship had shifted from intimate to professional and cold. Just when you thought it couldn’t get worse, the council members proved you wrong.

You stood by Diavolo’s side as the council members openly criticized you. Their words were like daggers targeting your already fragile self-esteem. You looked to Diavolo for support, hoping he would defend you, but he sat silently on his throne. His eyes held a distant gaze as if the criticisms directed at you didn’t matter.

“Endure it,” he had once told you. “You need to learn resilience if you wish to rule the Devildom with me.”

His expectation for you to bear their harsh words in silence and patience felt like a betrayal. You realized that, to Diavolo, your value as his future spouse was linked to your ability to endure, not your happiness or well-being.

Warning: Angst.

Being Lucifer’s significant other came with its own set of challenges. The responsibility of his younger brothers often fell on your shoulders. Whether it was cleaning up after their latest mishap, calming them down from their frequent outbursts, or dealing with the consequences of their chaotic antics, it was an endless cycle of stress and exhaustion.

One evening, after another taxing day of managing the chaos, you were at your breaking point. Seeking some solace, you approached Lucifer in the hope that he would understand and offer some support.

“Lucifer, today was just too much,” you began, your voice tinged with weariness. “Dealing with your brothers and all their chaos is overwhelming. I feel like I’m about to break.”

He paused in his tracks, his expression stern. The Avatar of Pride didn’t say anything for a moment but then broke the silence in a cold vice. “Cease your complaints. You need to learn to be resilient. You are excessively sensitive.”

Your heart sank at his dismissive tone. “But Lucifer, you don’t understand how hard it is. I’m trying my best, but it’s too much.”

His eyes narrowed slightly, and a hint of impatience flashed in his crimson orbs. “You have developed a propensity for complaining and relying on me for every issue. You must learn to handle matters independently.”

The words cut deep, and you felt a lump in your throat. “Why can’t you just understand how I’m feeling?”

Lucifer sighed in irritation. “You need to be mature and learn to manage your own affairs. I cannot resolve your matters for you.”

As if the conversation wasn’t already painful enough, he glanced at your disheveled appearance. “And attend to your appearance. You look unkempt.”

With that, he entered his bedroom and closed the door as if he didn’t want you to follow him inside. The weight of his words pressed heavily on you, amplifying your already overwhelming stress. Tears welled up in your eyes as you tried to process what had happened. You had hoped for comfort and understanding from the one person who meant the most to you, but instead, you were met with criticism and dismissal.

Warning: Angst.

The memory of the two witches in the human realm haunted you. Their threatening presence, the malevolent glint in their eyes, and mocking laughter had reduced you to tears. They called you pathetic, and in that moment, you felt utterly powerless. Mammon owned them money, but the witches targeted you instead since they couldn’t get to him. When you finally returned to the Devildom, you immediately sought the comfort of your most treasured possession—your grandmother’s necklace.

But as you searched through your belongings, panic set in. The necklace was nowhere to be found. Frantic, you rushed to Mammon’s room, hoping he might have seen it. “Mammon, have you seen my grandmother’s necklace?”

He shifted uncomfortably, avoiding your gaze. “Uh, ’bout that…”

Your pulse quickened as you studied his expression. “Mammon, where is it?”

He hesitated before finally coming clean, “I sold it. I needed the money.”

“You what?” you shouted, disbelief and anger flooding you. “That necklace is irreplaceable! It was my grandmother’s! How could you do this to me?”

Mammon looked defensive and quickly raised his hands. “It’s just a necklace, y’know. I didn’t think it was that big of a deal!”

Your anger flared more at his dismissive words. “Just a necklace? It meant everything to me! How could you be so thoughtless?”

Instead of offering comfort or an apology, Mammon stepped back, his face a mask of guilt and fear. Then, without another word, he turned and ran. You sank to the floor, tears streaming down your face. The betrayal cut deep, and the loss of your grandmother’s necklace felt like a piece of your heart had been ripped away. Mammon’s actions and his cowardly retreat further added to your pain and made you feel abandoned. You had trusted him, believed in him, and he had shattered that trust for something as fleeting as money.

Warning: Yandere-like behavior.

The celebration was in full swing, and everyone was ecstatic about your recent achievement. But in the corner, Levi stood apart, his expression distant and melancholy. It wasn’t that he wasn’t happy for you — Levi truly was — but the pang of jealousy and self-doubt gnawed at him. Why couldn’t he achieve something worth celebrating? Why did he always feel like a useless demon?

Over the next few days, he avoided you, refusing to even meet your eyes or speak to you. He wouldn’t even allow you to enter his room or answer your calls or texts. When he finally talked to you, his voice was filled with desperation and vulnerability. “Do you love me?” he asked, his eyes searching yours for reassurance.

“Of course, Levi,” you replied without hesitation, but you didn’t fully understand why he was asking you this question.

Following that conversation, Levi’s behavior changed drastically. He became increasingly possessive and would not let you talk to anyone else, not even his brothers. His jealousy flared and led to arguments if he saw you talking with them. You tried to understand and accommodate his feelings, but his possessiveness became suffocating.

The more you pushed for space and independence, the more Levi spiraled into darkness. He clung to you with an obsessive intensity, convinced you were his and only his. The fear of losing you consumed him, driving him to extreme measures to keep you close. You were at your wit’s end.

“Levi, you can’t keep doing this! You can’t control who I talk to. This isn’t healthy for either of us.”

His eyes darkened with a mix of hurt and anger. “You’re mine, (y/n). I won’t let anyone take you from me. If I can’t have you, no one else can.”

His chilling words sent a shiver down your spine. The Levi you once knew was nowhere in sight and was replaced by someone consumed by possessiveness and insecurity.

Warning: Angst, Violence.

The memory of the chair flying towards you was still fresh in your mind, just another reminder of Satan’s uncontrollable rage. Though Satan had done it accidentally, the thought of the chair hitting you at high speed made you shiver. Lucifer had been furious when he found out and dragged Satan into his office for a severe lecture and punishment.

Later that day, your boyfriend appeared at your door, his expression calm. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I didn’t mean to throw the chair at you. It was an accident.”

You nodded, accepting his apology. “It’s okay, Satan. Just try to control your anger next time.”

The second he heard your words, he sighed in relief. However, Satan’s expression darkened the next moment, and he began to badmouth Lucifer. “That pompous tyrant doesn’t understand anything. Always lecturing, always punishing. He’s the worst!”

“Lucifer isn’t wrong, Satan. You can’t just lose control like that. It’s dangerous,” you sighed.

His eyes flashed with anger at your words. “So you’re taking his side now?” he spat, his voice rising. “You think he’s right and I’m wrong?”

You stood your ground and firmly nodded. “Yes, Satan, you were in the wrong. What you did was dangerous.”

That was all it took. Satan’s anger erupted, and in an instant, he transformed into his demon form. His eyes glowed with fury as he grabbed you and slammed you against the wall, his grip so tight you thought your bones would shatter. Tears welled up in your eyes as you struggled to breathe, and the pain got overwhelming.

“Satan, please stop,” you begged, your voice trembling. “You’re hurting me.”

But your pleas fell on deaf ears as his blind rage had completely consumed him. The pressure intensified, and you cried out in pain, feeling helpless and terrified. Fortunately for you, Beel stormed into the room. “Satan, let go of (y/n)!”

With a great effort, Beel managed to restrain Satan and pull him away from you. The two brothers struggled, their powerful forms clashing, but Beel finally managed to drag Satan out of the room. The noise and chaos terrified you, but all you could do was curl up in the corner, sobbing uncontrollably. You had always known about his temper, but this was the first time it had been directed at you so violently. Did this mean that if he got angry enough, he could take your life?

Warning: Angst, cheating, suggestive, depression.

You had always known that Asmo was a flirt. His charm and compliments were part of his nature, and you had tried your best to brush it off. After all, he was a friendly demon who loved to make others feel special. But for the past few weeks, you had noticed him disappearing at night, and a sinking feeling began to settle in your chest. You tried to deny it, convincing yourself that it was harmless fun. Yet, deep down, you knew what he was doing.

One day, you returned to the House of Lamentation earlier than planned. Without knocking, you entered his bedroom, and your heart stopped at the sight. Asmo was in bed with two other demons, and none of them had anything on. Your boyfriend lay in the middle, his arms wrapped around their perfect bodies. When his eyes met yours, he gave a playful smile without a hint of shame on his flushed face.

“(Y/n),” he said in a seductive voice. “Why don’t you join us? The more the merrier!”

The reality of the situation hit you like a punch to the gut. The “Avatar of Lust” wasn’t just a title – it was the bitter truth. Your heart shattered, and you fled from the room, tears blurring your vision. That incident plunged you into a deep depression. The pain and betrayal you felt were overwhelming, and you found it impossible to care about anything, least of all yourself. You stopped your self-care routines and paid no attention to your appearance. The vibrant person you once were faded into a shadow.

At first, Asmo tried to comfort you. He brought you small gifts and tried to cheer you up with his usual charm, but every attempt he made only led to arguments. You were too hurt to accept his gestures, and he was too proud to understand the depth of your pain. Eventually, the strain became too much. One day, after another argument, Asmo looked at you with a coldness that sent chills down your spine.

“You know, (y/n),” he said, his voice devoid of the warmth it once held, “You’ve let yourself go. I’m not attracted to you anymore.”

The severity of his tone left no room for doubt – Asmo was breaking up with you. The man who had once made you feel like the most beautiful person in the world was now telling you that you were no longer worth his time. You stood there, numb, as he walked away. The realization settled heavily within you: Asmo had never truly seen you. To him, you were just another conquest, another fleeting pleasure.

Warning: Angst.

You checked your wallet and sighed. Feeding Beel and keeping him happy had drained every cent from your wallet. It felt like the only reason you earned money was to feed your boyfriend’s unsatiable appetite. As you slumped on Beel’s bed, you heard Belphie enter the room with a loud yawn.

“What’s wrong?” He sleepily asked.

“I’m broke,” you whispered. “I spent all my money on food for Beel.”

Belphie scoffed and plopped on his bed. “You should have been prepared. The House of Lamentation is broke most of the time because of Beel’s appetite. But you do know that he can’t control himself, right?”

Frustration bubbled up inside you, and you snapped at him. “Then why don’t you use your money to feed your twin?”

Your words started an argument; your voices echoed through the halls, but you were too caught up in the heat of the moment to notice Beel entering the bedroom.

“What’s going on?” Beel asked, worried.

Belphie wasted no time and replied, “(Y/n) was complaining about how they were broke because of your need to eat. They want me to use my money to feed you, so they don’t need to feed you anymore.”

The older twin’s eyes were saddened as he glanced at you. “Is that true, (y/n)?”

You wanted to explain yourself clearly, but your words came out jumbled and defensive. “I just…I didn’t mean it like that, Beel. It’s just been hard…”

Belphie cut in, his voice mocking. “See, Beel? They can’t handle it. Maybe they’re not worth your time.”

“Shut up, Belphie!” you snapped.

For a moment, Beel’s eyes widened in shock, but the next, they hardened. “Don’t talk to him like that again, (y/n). Leave!”

The weight of his words hit you like a punch to the gut. “Beel, please, I didn’t mean-”

“Just go,” Beel interrupted, his voice breaking slightly.

Belphie smirked in satisfaction. “You heard him. You’re not worth his time, and he deserves better.”

Tears blurred your vision as you turned and fled to your bedroom, your heart heavy with regret and confusion. You collapsed onto your bed, the tears flowing freely now. The pain of the breakup and the argument weighed heavily on you, and you cried yourself to sleep.

Warning: Angst, spoiler from OG.

You sat on the edge of the bed, pouring your heart out to Belphie. Your voice cracked with each word as you recounted the emotional turmoil you had recently in the past. It was something deeply personal that you had never shared with anyone else. When you finally turned your head to look at him with tear-filled eyes, hoping he would understand, you saw him fast asleep. Frustration boiled inside you. How could he fall asleep when you were sharing something so important? Tears rolled down your cheeks as you shook his shoulder, but he remained oblivious, lost in his dreams.

The following week was supposed to be special—a date you had planned with Belphie for your first anniversary. You had looked forward to it all week, imagining how wonderful it would be to spend time with him. But the hours passed, and the meeting time came and went. Belphie didn’t answer your message or pick up your calls.

Somewhere in your heart, you worried something had happened to him, but your mind already knew why. A quick check of his room confirmed your worst fears: he was still asleep. The carefully planned date ended in disappointment, leaving you feeling neglected and unimportant. Later, when he finally woke up, he muttered a half-hearted apology for missing the date. His words lacked sincerity, and he clearly didn’t understand how much it meant to you.

A few weeks later, you found yourself in front of an enraged demon who hated that a human was in Devildom – a hater of Diavolo. Panic surged through your veins as you fled and desperately dialed your boyfriend’s number. The phone rang endlessly, but he never picked up. Your heart pounded in your chest, fear gripping you tighter with each passing second. With no other options, you called the older brothers.

They arrived in time to help you before the demon could hurt you more or kill you. Exhausted and shaken, you returned to the House of Lamentation, your body aching from the ordeal. You headed straight to Belphie’s room, your emotions a tumultuous mix of fear, anger, and betrayal. As expected, he lay in bed, barely awake. Even after he noticed your tear-streaked face, disheveled hair, and minor cuts on your skin, he remained lying down.

“What’s wrong?” he asked calmly, his voice lacking genuine concern.

That was the final note. Your emotions broke, and you yelled at him in a cracking voice. “I almost died today because you wouldn’t answer your phone! I was in danger, and you were just sleeping!”

“Sorry.”

A weak apology was all he could offer, and the next instant, his eyes shut again. He was asleep once more. You stood there, stunned and heartbroken, staring at his sleeping form. Did he not care that you had nearly died? The memory of your past death at his hands flashed before your eyes, reminding you of the cruel reality. What else were you expecting from someone who had once killed you? The weight of your disillusionment settled heavily in your heart as you turned away, feeling more alone than ever before.