Obey Me! Lucifer's Dream

 a/n: This is a dark and maybe disturbing story. Please don't read if you aren't prepared for that. Lucifer is described as a scary, evil demon in the game, but the Lucifer we see is mostly neutered with some jump scares thrown in. We come to know him as a passionate, prideful demon and the scary bits are mostly hidden. I wanted to bring the evil and dangerous Lucifer out in a safe environment where no one actually ends up getting hurt. The timeframe is just after MC arrives in the devildom and meets everyone, but hasn't had time to get close and develop relationships. 

//

Midnight rolled around again and Lucifer rubbed his temples with gloved fingers. With no sun, day and night had little meaning here, but even so, he had been awake for five straight days, a full two days longer than his normal and it was starting to show. 

Irritably, he signed his name to the latest document in front of him and with a scowl, snapped the pen in two between his fingers. I mean, how much was a demon supposed to take? 

First, there was helping Diavolo with his extra paperwork since Barbatos was on vacation, then overseeing the RAD student council... Mammon playing the fool... and now babysitting the new human exchange student. The last one took an enormous amount of his resources because she was just so damn fragile. He was always having to watch over her, keep lesser demons from devouring her, creating special education for her, and most of all, controlling his own temper so he wouldn't kill or frighten her. Diavolo was firm with his instructions regarding the human, she was to be treated as gently as if she was back in her own world. 

He scoffed, irritation sliding into anger. Something about interworld relations. Really, who cares at all about that. If his time in the Celestial Realm had taught him anything, it was that humans were weak, unworthy of his time, and invited trouble. Trouble was already something they had plenty of, thanks to Mammon. He resented the extra intrusion on his time. Solomon was a different story, he could take care of himself and required very little attention, and as far as Lucifer cared, could stay as long as he liked, so long as he didn't try to cook.

Her face floated into his mind unbidden, and he angrily stuffed the thought away. MC... What kind of a name is MC anyway, he thought. So common, so forgettable. 

He got up and walked to the piano, sitting down in front of the keys, hoping some music could help clear and calm his head. Playing a few bars of his favorite composer, De La Lordo, he closed his eyes and leaned into the music. However, his anger continued to throb and as it did so, his fingers tripped over one another causing a shriek of dissonance that cut through the silence of his office like a knife. 

Irritation exploding, he slammed down the lid to the keys. Even his favorite classical music couldn't cool him down. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw HER face. HER body. HER skin. He didn't understand. He was the chosen one of his father's creations, the strongest, the most beautiful, the most talented, the most intelligent. His burgeoning attraction to something so ordinary sent waves of revulsion and confusion tumbling through him. 

Unable to control his anger and disgust, he rampaged through his office; and only after his curtains and furniture were hanging in shreds with several new vase-shaped holes in the walls did he finally sit down hard in the armchair by his fireplace, leather creaking to accommodate his weight. He knew his brothers wouldn't dare approach his door upon hearing his wrath. Spent, he pushed his sweaty hair out of his face and leaned his head back against the soft surface, eyes closing. 

...squeals in the dark. 

Everything was fuzzy. He shook his head roughly to clear it, but the cloudiness stubbornly held on. Hazily, he pushed through long-limbed bushes that grasped at his hair and clothes into a woody clearing and there she was. Small, perfect, tearful eyes wide, gag tightening into the sides of her mouth, hands tied in front of her. She's naked. A fire to one side, casting flickering shadows that danced across her terrified face. 

His heart started to race and his breathing quickened. This is a dream, he thought. 

Touching his tongue to his upper lip, and then dragging it across the top of his lower teeth, he continued to watch her struggle. He felt dark urges bubbling up within him...he wanted to hurt her. Use her. Feed off her fear. The longer he watched, the stronger the urges became. 

His fingers curled up in tight fists at his side. How good it would feel to let go...stop controlling himself for once. Stop doing what everyone expected of him. Just be free. Free to hate. Free to rage. Free to destroy. The passion was too intoxicating to resist. With eyes closed, he let the anger take him. Roaring, he exploded into fire, white-hot flames threatening to sear his bones to ash. His handsome face melted into a horrific ghastly caricature of its former self. Pain as blackened wing tips burst through the taut skin of his back leaving bloody and ragged holes around them, pain as one curled horn ground its way free of the top of his head, then the other. Pain as his bones stretched to make him larger, thicker, new muscles pulsating with power. Pain as his claws burst from his fingertips impaling themselves on his palms as he ground his fists with rage. All was pain and he drank it in like a man dying of thirst. His transformation complete, he throbbed with energy, heat, and rage. 

The poor girl had yet to see him emerge from the darkness, but emerge he did, at last, a red glow upon the ground and an earth-shaking tremor heralding his arrival. Her already widened eyes, bulged from their sockets. Too scared to make a noise, strangled whimpers were all that emerged from around the gag. 

Standing tall in all his terrible glory before her, her fear increases his desire. 

He frees himself from his pants and masturbates furiously. He can't remember how long it's been since he touched himself like this, with an anger and intent. Or at all, for that matter. Passion had all but dried up for him after his fall from grace. Life had become controlling his brothers and the mundane of Diavolo's paperwork. It felt good just to feel anything again. 

Sadistically, he chuckled lowly. His beautiful, terrible eyes narrowing, he lets loose his enormous hard cock, where it hangs heavily erect against his leg, waiting. Her eyes follow its movements and he revels in her horror. She knows what's going to happen and that she has absolutely no way to stop it. 

Even through her fear and almost as a betrayal to herself, she can't help but feel a supernatural attraction to him, his power, his beauty. He can sense it as well, and it increases his disrespect for her. It's only too easy, he thought, arrogantly. She can't help but want me, even if I'm going to hurt her. Stupid human. So weak...so insignificant. Disposable.

That last thought ignited his lust to new levels. Here was a toy he could abuse with no repercussions to his conscience. She wasn't worth consideration or care. Since she was beneath his respect, he could be himself completely. 

Dark excitement pushing him forward, he took a quick step towards her, and she cringed backward against her restraints, desperate to flee. 

"It's no use trying to escape, little one," he said cruelly, his soft words contradicted by his harsh tone."Escape doesn't exist for you anymore. You're mine. "

Her screams echo throughout the woods, full of terror and ecstasy. 

Hours later, the screams fade as a long howl rises. The girl's mangled body lies still on the ground, every orifice stuffed full and dripping, blood on the ground. Her face is quiet, eyes glassy with rapture, expression frozen in terror. He'd never seen anything so beautiful. 

His violence finally satiated, Lucifer stands with his bloody cock dripping, drenched in sweat and other fluids, parts of himself slipping back into human form. An unexpected warm rush fills him as he looks at her, and impulsively, he leans down and tenderly kisses her cooling cheek.

At the touch of her flesh, his eyes open and he is back in his office chair. His grandfather clock lets him know morning has come.

The chair lies in ruins around his outline, he had transformed outside of his dream as well. He shifts in the chair and his pants catch against him uncomfortably, sticky, full of his cum several times over. He feels an overwhelming sense of release, of a long-overdue itch scratched, a boiling tea kettle that has let off its steam. Feeling powerful and confident, he rises to clean himself and get ready for the day. 

Later

"Once again, Lucifer will be providing you with your lessons and general protection this week," Diavolo said conversationally to the girl. All three of them were sitting in Diavolo's office, sipping tea kept at the perfect temperature by Barbatos's careful attentions. The girl hesitantly looked over her teacup towards handsome Lucifer, remembering his obvious irritation the week before. 

"I'm at your command," Lucifer said silkily, cooly polite. He showed none of the irritation from before, and in fact...looked perfectly content with his extra duties. 

For a second, she thought she heard something odd in his tone...what, she wasn't sure. 

She glanced his way again, and shivered as she saw he was watching her...a faint smile on his lips, red eyes glowing.